Cheshunt

A Memory of Cheshunt.

Yes Valerie - I too have a similar memory of the day I walked home from Cheshunt Secondary School on my last ever day. The sun was always high over Grundy Park during the summer months, and shone down directly onto your neck and head as you walked up Windmill Lane to the Old Pond.

That memory of the sun burning your skin as you turned out the gate, looking back for the last time, really made me think back - perhaps fondly, now - to the days spent at that wonderful old school, now tragically, long since demolished. What a travesty that decision was.

The council have now indicated that, "..[it] was, perhaps, short sighted, in hindsight.."

So true. It was a real gem, and I miss the school very much, as well as lament the removal of an architectural icon.

I remember Mr Gimber, the metalwork teacher, smoking like a chimney in his little office, with yellow fingers and a full ashtray every time I went and spoke to him. Excellent teacher though, and ran the school kart team (of which I was a member), and an all round cool bloke.

Another memory of those days - although not quite so PC these days - is the sweetshop on the corner of Newnham Parade, selling cigarettes singly for 6 pence each to us school kids. Even when wearing our uniforms!!

Now, Cheshunt uniform was a green blazer in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd year, and then in your final years you wore a black one. So it was pretty easy to tell who the young kids were - just by the colour of their blazer.. Knowing that you would think it would be impossible to purchase the aforementioned contraband wearing a green blazer.. But it wasn't. It made no difference at all, and meant that there was always a mix of green and black blazers producing a cloud of smoke behind the gymnasium at break times, at least until the senior master Mr Clarke came out and told us all to put the ciggies out and move on.. The greens got an order mark on their record - the blacks got told to just clear off and stop encouraging the young ones.

Tesco Home & Wear, now long gone, the Clarkes Shoe Shop in Lynton Parade (with the space age foot measuring machine!), also long since gone, and playing in the paddling pool in Grundy Park, which was right in the middle of the park, in front of the caretaker's hut and tennis courts. This was all demolished and cleared to make way for the new swimming pool around ten years later. The sports centre was tacked on a few years after the pool had opened, some time in the 1980s/90s I believe.

And lastly, whilst on the subject of swimming pools, I remember fondly the long hot summer of 76, with a couple of my brothers and our Dad walking down to Cheshunt open air swimming pool at the bottom of Windmill Lane, the other side of the railway line - seemingly every Saturday to cool off in the huge, deep pool.

The open air changing huts, with a saloon door as your modesty protector - unisex of course - was never a problem. People didn't care really, they just made do. Men, women, children, parents, babies.. If the little saloon door was closed - it meant you were busy. No one came in. If it was open, then that little room was free to use. As it was a saloon style door you could tell anyway, as the feet were always visible under the door.

No lockers either. You just took your belongings and placed them on the grass next to your towel. This was your base for the afternoon. Sunbathing, swimming, buying an ice cream from the pool shop, and kicking a ball around on the grass if it wasn't too crowded.

Sound idyllic? It was. Simpler times, and no one cared about any of the things that wouldn't be allowed today. Nothing was stolen from the towel area, and no-one batted an eyelid about the semi-open unisex changing rooms. Not even the girls.

On the way home, the riverside café sold hot dogs and Panda pop cherryade..

Ahh, it brings back so many memories. Very sadly, the pool closed in the late 70s due to upkeep and maintenance costs. The land was redeveloped in the 1980s. The riverside café also perished within a year, as the main passing income had disappeared. The little old house, which housed the café, was demolished a short time later.

I truly wish now, that I had a time machine. I would visit Cheshunt just for a day, in the summer of 1976, and relive it, just once more..

Memories.