St Andrew's Primary School, Polworth Road, Streatham 1951 To 1957

A Memory of Streatham.

I attended St Andrew's School in Polworth Road, Streatham, from 1951 to c. 1957. I can't say I enjoyed my time there. My mom told me that on my first day at the school I bawled my eyes out and couldn't be consoled. The teacher was a Ms Walters. I hasten to say that I don't think she could be blamed for my tears. The school toilets were disgustingly filthy and had to be avoided unless in extremis.
I remember the following dramatis personae: Mr Collins, the head; Ms Carling, who, it was claimed, rather cruelly, wore a wig; Mr Kennedy, who emigrated to Canada in about 1956; Mr Engles, a balding academic type who could have been cast as a monk, replete with tonsure, in a monastery; and Mr Proctor, the caretaker. The latter was ancient then. He always wore a cap and had a missing front tooth. He was a good sport and always participated in cricket or football in the yard.
School dinners were 'served' in a sea cadet establishment opposite the school. On entering its portals one was struck by the overwhelming stench of stale food and polish. We had to hold hands with one another to cross the road to get to the premises. I remember that one of the girls I held hands with was called Bernadette Gateley. The food, served in containers that reminded me of the ones used to store spent nuclear waste, was organic glop, but, strangely, I liked it, mostly. In particular, the sausages were really good--full of bread and fat!
One of the serving ladies caused mental scars that lasted a long time. On one occasion I used a less-than-clean cloth to wipe off excess gravy from my plate. She shouted, "Don't use that! You'll catch hydrophobia."
Streatham then was rather refined, relatively speaking. (I lived in Mitcham). It had a number of interesting shops: Lyons tea house, which my grandparents took us to on occasion; Tyrell's, selling fabric and clothes; Pratts, which sold general home goods; and W H Smith. Across the road from the latter was the Astoria cinema, decorated with faux Egyptian figures, with a raised platform for the electric organist. I remember being taken there to see the first screening of The Dambusters.
Further up the road, going towards Streatham Hill, was a shop that sold coffee beans, which were roasted on the premises and gave out a most wonderful aroma.

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