St John's Open Air School, Turpins Lane

Hello Jeff. I remember you. I have a mountain of memories from my years at St. John's. I am on Facebook. Get in touch if you care too.
All the best. Brian Lowdell

Do you remember James Coyne

I remember lots about the school because they are fond memories all good none bad

There must be someone out there I was the school comedian and sc goalkeeper

I remember you - and most of the others in class 2, though not your comedy. I admired your watercolours of racing cars and the like that were often displayed on the wall at the back of the classroom. Art, English and music were my favourite subjects. We would sing along to a radio broadcast for schools called 'Time And Tune', (The 'East Indiaman' was my favourite). Second class had two tables, either side, at the back. One had curio stuff, such as an Ostrich egg on it. The other had, amongst other books, illustrated pamphlets for Breakspear College, a Catholic seminary of the Salvatorian order, and a dog-eared copy of 'The Big Book of Football' that had photos of famous players with which we amused ourselves by drawing on and adding to. Someone, (maybe Thomson) turned Billy Bremner into a soldier with a tin hat, backpack and rifle. It looked really funny. Eventually all the pictures in the book were amended in humorous ways. I did a few.
There was also a table of typewriters at the front of class that we could mess about with.
Some of our classmates were: Robert Boor, whom I sat next to, Michael Howsam, Terry Thomson, John Coleman, Adrian Ryan; Two Rogers, Donovan and Faulkner; Two Royston's, Upson and Hopson; Two James Coyne's, (yourself, and another whom the nuns re-named Patrick). Michael(?) Finneran, Terry Elgey, Peter (?) Griffiths, Walton from Middlesbrough, Collins from Manchester, Mark Edmunds, 'Three Humps' Humphreys, (remarkable for his white hair and jet black eyelashes), Andrew (?) Jeremiah, Ken Green, Martin 'Minto' Flint, John Berry, Jeff west, and some others that haven't come to mind yet. Robbie Jittubugh a West Indian lad was with us briefly. We were called to assembly one morning and told that he had been killed in an accident. Him and this mate had been scrumping apples and a wall fell on them. The way the nuns reported it though seemed more a cautionary tale, as what can happen if you do bad things..
I revisited the school ten years ago, on my 65th birthday. I was offered lunch. (it was pretty ropey stuff, nothing like the quality of food we used to get). One of the nuns then offered to take me to visit Gilmartin, who was then living in the Victorian terrace (snakes Lane?) opposite the school. In his living room I noticed he had one of the antique illustrated prints of London that used to hang above the piano in class two above his fireplace. We had a cup of tea and spent a fairly uneventful hour, with mostly him and the Nun chit-chatting. He looked in remarkable shape for his age, around ninety I guessed. He said he remembered me, which was unsurprising as I had once thrown a banger over the wall of the lodge where he lived with his family at the time. I got six for that, delivered by a reluctant Mr Murray, as Gilmartin said he couldn't trust himself with meting out the punishment, as he wouldn't hold back and might have seriously injured me with the cane, (or the golf club handle, whichever was easiest to his hand). Murray was so intent on the job that he forgot to keep count of the strokes he'd given me, stopping to ask; How many is that? I truthfully answered four sir. I was caned regularly by Gilmartin, as were so many others. Judge, another assistant housemaster, was an unpleasant Northern Irishman who didn't hide his dislike of us kids. He invariably wore a long, grubby rain mac and hob nailed brogues. You could always hear him coming. I was relieved when he left the school to get married, but not happy that the nuns forced us to contribute to buying him a tea set as a leaving present. He was replaced by the aforementioned James Murray, from Southampton, a more intelligent and kind man, who took an active interest in us. He would talk music with me and liked Jazz and going uptown to shows. He let you keep the change if you went down to the corner shop to get him a pack of 'Guards' cigarettes.