South Weald School 1959 Ish

A Memory of South Weald.

The old school was still in the village - the toilets seem to be well remembered - how I hated those. The old school for me smelled of those tablets of paint which were used in art class, for dabbling. That smell mingled with warm heated milk in winter - when the little bottles were brought in to thaw.
I recall a top and bottom playground - there was some demarcation which I don't any longer remember.
I think I started school in the new building - and then moved to the older one. Certainly I recall the walk between the two - I noticed recently that the brick wall (on the left as you walk between what was the old post-office and the new school) is still the same. I remember counting bricks and looking for the 'burnt' ones.
Hard to remember friends. Jonathan Bennet I recall, whose dad owned Bennet's Tools. His sister, Susan, and Kay Barbrook were older friends. Jane Freshwater, Catrina Ramsay, Robert Wilford - if I think hard probably there are others.
I think I was a pain at school.
I hated the dinners and spent manys a happy dinner time being trapped in the dining room, while someone or other looked over me waiting for the food to be absorbed. Classics involved that species of mashed potato reminiscent of chewing gum when not properly re-constituted. And thick custard and chocolate sauce.
Christmas's were fantastic - the nativity play of course in the church. I graduated to being allowed to move a screen aside (hidden behind it of course, with another labourer) but never made it to a speaking part. I was chronically shy at that time - so probably this was a good thing. All was presided over by the (to me at that time) rather scarey Rev McAllister.
Of teachers, I recall Mrs Rogerson, and especially her handwriting lessons - and of those, especially her instructions related to scribing numbers - she had myriad stories of paper boys unable to deliver their wares because of badly written numbers. Mrs Davies was lovely - living in Hillside Walk, just round the corner from our house in South Weald Road.
Mrs Lyons I remember and Miss Christie.
I was given the cane on at least one occasion. Once, I admitted to talking when actually I hadn't. I dont know why I did that - must have been a latent masochistic streak - or rank stupidity. It lead to a visit to Mrs Rogersons office, hands stretched out and thwack. Worse for the ego than the nerves, no doubt.
When I was quite small, I regularly created a fuss - and my dear and lovely father would walk me up to school across the fields, before the Brentwood bypass was built. All this because of missing Mr Tiffin's coach. I seem to remember Wendy Crane's mother as the parent keeping us in check on the coach as I think of it.
Other random recollections: the bell outside the school hall in the 'new school' that I recall being installed. We used to take turns to toll it to bring kids in - was it after lunch? And then queing outside the classrooms waiting to go in after the break times.
Perhaps not school related - but the 'cubs' had the run of Colonel Laurie's barn somewhere across the fields and near to the manner house. Great times climbing in amongst the bales.
The beautiful conker tree in the middle of the island in the middle of the village - and the autumn games of conkers. Can't do that now I think.
Funerals stopped the playing in the old school playground - all the kids brought inside and made quiet - one day for my dear Uncle Edwin, a favourite, lying in that churchyard still.
Like many kids - my early memories were of the terror of parental abandonment. I suspect I was a wimp. My later memories more tolerable. I was far from a model pupil, but South Weald School was in truth a beautiful place with caring teachers - and not a half-bad place to spend a few formative years. I cannot resist returning when I am anywhere close - just to say hello.

---

---