I Hate Reedham
A Memory of Purley.
My brother and I were sent to Reedham School in 1954. We were there for two years, probably the worst two years of my life, despite being put into care at the age of five and continuing until sixteen. I was known as Mathews 2 or RS 100. Reedham was situated on a hill surrounded by magnificent fields. We were not allowed onto those fields but were restricted to a small tarmac playground. God help any boy leaving that playground. The punishments were horrific. There were about 120 of us. We were kept separated from the girls. Once a year the Mayor and local press were allowed in and they were treated a public relations display of dishonesty to give the impression that this was the normal way. We were all given a brand new shilling to public applause. This was taken away from us round the corner. Punishment was meted out by sadistic prefects. This was either being made to stand facing a wall for hours on end or being slapped across the face. They would call out your name at random. If you answered you were slapped across the face as silence was the rule. If you didn't answer you were slapped for dumb insolence.
Some of the children would wet their beds. They were publicly humiliated by being told to stand up in the dining room; they were called the "water-works". They then had to wash their own sheets in the middle of the playground and the rest of us were encouraged to jeer at them. We were too frightened to refuse.
Two boys once ran away. They were brought back by the police who were assured that they would be looked after and not punished. As soon as the police had left they were subjected to humiliation and terror, being each made to stand to attention in a dustbin in the middle of the playground for hours on end.
I remember sitting an exam, the 11+ I think. We all sat there tapping our pencils and looking blankly at each other. I couldn't even tell you the date as we had no access to radio or newspapers at any time let alone answer any of the questions. I can honestly say that I learned absolutely nothing in those two years.
There were other, even worse things, that happened which may not be appropriate for this site.
I was taken out of there in 1956 and sent to Reading to a lovely, well run school called Kennylands.
I'm sorry be so dismal but I thought these events were worth mentioning.
Add your comment
You must be signed-in to your Frith account to post a comment.
Add to Album
You must be signed in to save to an album
Sign inSparked a Memory for you?
If this has sparked a memory, why not share it here?
Comments & Feedback
I wonder if what we saw and suffered broadened our preception, and deepend our indignation.
Our beautiful mom was ill ('p.t.s.' from war, she would 'freeze' in oblivious trance). Have no recollection, nor does twin Jen, of what happened prior, but, cos no father, Reedham was perfect LG solution.
First memories, 1963 autumn, begin at breakfast, seeing my sis seeing me across the dark-panelled dining room of benches and long tables, a yellow line down centre separating boys from girls- brothers from sisters. Brothers were escorted to sisters for 1/2 hr supervised visit after 'tea'. Twice weekly, after cook's baking the girls were dutied to 'buttering' the bread, with a pinkish fatty spread. Bread was big part of the diet, come day 3 or 4 the edges would be blue. Breakfast was porridge and bread, I vaguely remember 'membrane' slithers of bacon. Among main-meal highlights were corned beef and potato 'hash', and cheese and potato 'bake' your 1" thick portion would measure 4 x 4". The masters were malicious. 'Cummings' (a skinny Scott) took pride and pleasure in demonstrating punishment.
I could not understand what was going on, what the place was, or why we were there, but knew it was wrong. I ran away, it was dusk, I remember walking north, across Croydon airfield, sunken lights overgrown, towards the nearest place I knew; Sutton. (We had, by our mother's power, lived at 'The Dormers', No 1 Devonshire Avenue.)
I was looking for the police station, hoping Jen could be rescued, or mum found. They took me back of course, but not before bringing me a fragrant supper of fish an chips.
Don't remember the punishment.
By my time, Reedham had moved 'senior school' learning to mainstream school in Purley Way. I cannot imagine how worse it would have been before then.
The 'Reedhams' were not welcomed or treated nicely by pupils.
I remember, first day before bell, being up against the wall held by a 4th-former and baying crowd, hell-bent on expressing their superiority- I fought back, pent-up and angry as we all, was 'arrested' and, with the perpetrator, marched to Headmaster, who prescribed 4 strokes each. 'Open' school was a saviour, sometimes, heedless of consequences, I would 'miss' the morning coach and walk, and reach a phone box to dial 100 and reverse charges home.
Mum got better, Jen got ill an I got lucky, bitten by a dog. (a mother, protecting her babies).
Children with mothers were allowed a visit, or outing beyond the gates once a month. I'll never forget glimpsing her cream R8 climbing the drive through the trees. Jen was not allowed to join us, or even see mum, confined to the on-site hospital. On our return mum wanted fresh flowers for Jen, we called at a nursery. While knocking the door, the mother dog grabbed my ankle- oozing red jelly on the car floor. Mum took me hospital, 4 stitches one side, 6 the other, then 30 miles home to Farnham Royal. Jen followed end of term. Then, 'til mum's sudden passing '69 we lived in Heaven again.
Apologies for digression, Ash the events you encapsulate with articulation are more than worth mentioning.
xjam