Dear Old Michaelian,

Welcome to the Autumn 1999 edition of "The Mitre", I hope you enjoy it and appreciate, as I do, the hard work that two or three of the committee put into producing this twice yearly publication. This will be the last "Mitre" of the Millennium, and therefore the last opportunity for the Association to communicate with you in this millennium, UNLESS YOU ATTEND, the NOT TO BE MISSED, MILLENNIUM REUNION WEEKEND on 30/31 October 1999.

Already a lot of discussion has taken place over the arrangements. What would YOU, our members, like included so that YOU will attend? This reunion weekend is going to be even better than that of two years ago, held to commemorate the Fiftieth Anniversary of the founding of St. Michael’s.

Too many people in this day and age rely on others to keep things going. Unfortunately, to a certain extent this is true of the Old Michaelian Association. Over the years, dozens of members have made a commitment to keep the Association going. Judging by the number of members we still have, considering the school closed thirty years ago, they have done an excellent job. The current committee are more than happy to maintain the momentum, but a little more support from the membership would help to ensure its continued success.

There are only THREE things that are required of you, the Members.

WRITE an article for "The Mitre". You have heard me say this before. I also repeat that there is no need to worry about ‘grama, spellins or presuntashun’. Just give us the facts and we can find someone to edit it. Make it anonymous if you wish. Remember there is no cane, strap or detention waiting, only much appreciation of your effort!

  FIND a lapsed or non member and get them to join. They wont know what they’ve missed until they try it! Five pounds for four years membership, hardly expensive when you consider that gives you two news letters and a reunion every year.

SUPPORT the reunion. Come along with that newly found OM and be GUARANTEED an enjoyable time. If you are worried about who will be there, give a committee member a call nearer the time and we will let you know who has booked. In any case you will never feel as if you are on your own. ‘Other halves’ are very welcome to join in with the husbands and wives who regularly attend.

In the meantime, enjoy what is left of the summer (!), and as usual we hope this finds you in good health. Also of course, A ‘Happy New Millennium’ to those who we will not see in October.

Bob Hill

Greetings all,

This is my second attempt at producing  "The Mitre" and I trust that it meets with your approval.  The Spring Edition brought forth favorable comments for which my heartiest thanks but there were  some who thought that there were too many "filler" items for which I can only plead "lack of copy"

There is nothing I would like more than to be able to fill each and every page of this august journal with the ramblings, reminiscences and recollections of revered Old Michaelians, but YOU are those revered OM's and YOU are the ones with the  anecdotes and memories, photographs and mental  pictures of an important part of the early life of each and every one of us, be they happy thoughts  or otherwise.

Bob in his letter at the front end of this Magazine has said that he considers it  incumbent on all of us to put "pen to paper" or perhaps  these days "fingers to keyboards" and share those   recollections, believe me it is cathartic and FUN.

You will have seen or may even have completed the crossword on page 10. When you send it to me, YOU ARE GOING TO SEND IT, AREN'T YOU?  enclose a few lines for publication, you would be amazed at the interest that  all OM.s have in the current and past life  of their  peers, their  whereabouts,  occupations and hobbies. Send a current photograph of yourself or any St. Michael's  pictures you may have for inclusion in next year's Spring Edition, these can be scanned and returned to you if you wish.  but why not COME TO THE REUNION AND BRING THEM WITH YOU.  Much merriment and mirth  materialises over the weekend and you would, methinks,  enjoy it.

But enough  from me.  OVER TO YOU!!!!!

Martin

Fridhem was a happy time for most of us.

We had  great fun running up one staircase and being dared to run down the main stairs. This was not allowed in case Mr. Pott arrived with visitors.

I remember with glee the story of two of us pinching a pair of Martha's knickers. We proceeded down the front stairs, one in one leg one in the other, only to be caught by Mr. Pott and Martha. We, of course, went our separate ways, one up, one down and the knickers were no more. We collapsed into fits of giggles, Martha included and Mr. Pott was not amused. At least they were not bottle green like ours. (the knickers I mean!!)

I have had a letter from Clifford Wallington with in the last week reminding me of even more. Fridhem was not at all clean when first bought, it took weeks to sort out but, once clean and tidy, Martha and all the girls move in. We would listen to our kind of music (Juliet Browning permitting!)  One of the boys gave me "Happy Birthday Sweet Sixteen" by Neil Sedaka for my birthday. I still have it hidden away with all my treasured possessions in the house.

I stayed with Martha during one or two of the holidays. Her Mother had one of the lovely little houses on the front in Hunstanton. There was a balcony out of one of the bedrooms overlooking the sea, it was superb.

After I left St. Michael's, I filled in time working for Derek Ibbotson and his wife, looking after their three small children; now that was great fun, I used to imagine that I was running the four minute mile, I even borrowed Madeline's Great Britain sports jacket to fool some workmen ... it worked!  The surprise on their faces was wonderful as I ran up the street to meet the children, stopwatch in hand, it went off at just the right time!

I then went to Bradford Children's Hospital to do my sick children's training. I was married and Benedict was on the way, then came Nicola and, sadly, a nasty divorce.

My 'knight in shining armour' arrived on the scene in the shape of David; my Parents could not believe their luck, at last I had found happiness. We had Josephine and William rather quickly, a year and ten days between them, but it was a very happy time for all of us.

Martha came to see us when William was about three months old. I began being rather poorly and Martha stayed to help David look after the children. I then had a major operation and radium treatment. Martha was by now our adopted Gran (Nana to the children), she looked after us as her own and eventually, together with her Mother, bought a house in Harrogate to be near us. She stayed here for six happy years. Her Mother then died and she felt that she ought to go back to Heacham where she herself eventually died. I'd like to think that we made her life happy, we have wonderful memories of her which will certainly never go away.

Rachel Golby

Everything hurts - and what doesn't hurt, doesn't work

The gleam in you eye is the sun hitting your bifocals

You feel like the morning after, but you haven't been anywhere

When you drop something and have to bend down twice to pick it up

Your 'little black book' contains only doctor's names

You get winded playing cards

Your children begin to look middle aged

You join a health club, but don't go

A dripping tap causes an uncontrollable urge

You know all the answers, but nobody asks the questions

You look forward to a dull evening

You need spectacles to find your glasses

You turn out the light for economy instead of romance

You sit in a rocking chair but can't make it go

Your knees buckle, but your belt won't

Your back goes out more often than you do

Your house is too big and the medical chest not big enough

Your teeth sink into a steak and stay there

Your birthday cake collapses under the weight of candles

You still think of money in pounds, shillings and pence

Policemen seem younger and younger

provided by Rachel Golby (our thoughts are with David!!!)

One fine day in Ireland, a guy is out golfing and gets up to the 16th hole, He tees up and hooks one. Unfortunately, it goes into the woods on the side of the fairway.

He goes looking for his ball and comes across this little guy with this huge bump on his head and the golf ball lying right beside him.

“Goodness,” says the golfer then proceeds to revive the poor little guy.

Upon awakening, the little guy says, “Well, you caught me fair and square. I am a leprechaun. I will grant you three wishes.” (Of course, as you know a leprechaun is one of those enchanted people in the woods, pretty much like elves and dwarfs, and if you catch one, you’re bound to be fortunate).

The man says, “I can’t take anything from you, I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you too badly” and walked away.

Watching the golfer depart, the leprechaun says, “Well, he was a nice enough guy, and he did catch me, so I have to do something for him. I’ll give him the three things that I would want. I’ll give him unlimited money, great golf games, and a great sex life.”

Well, a year goes past (as they often do in jokes such as this) and the same golfer is out golfing on the same course at the 16th hole he get up and hits one into the same woods and goes off looking for his ball. When he finds the ball he sees the same little guy and asks how he is doing. The leprechaun says, “I’m fine, and might I ask how your golf game is going?”

The golfer says, “It’s great! I hit under par every time.”

“I did that for you”, responds the leprechaun, “And might I ask how your money is holding out?”

“Well, now that you mention it, every time I put my hand in my pocket, I pull out a £20 note ”, he replied.

The leprechaun smiles and says, “I did that for you. And might I ask how is your sex life?”

Now the golfer looks at him a little shyly and says, “Well, maybe once or twice a week.”

Surprised, the leprechaun stammers, “Once or twice a week?”

The golfer looks at him sheepishly and says, “Well, that’s not too bad for a Catholic priest in a small Parish.

I hated school when I was young, It wasn’t that I was against learning, I just thought that I could do the job better than a school!

Living in London gave me the opportunity to learn without school with all its’ wonderful museums, but the authorities thought different and for three years tried to get me to stay with little success I could be escorted to the gates of the school and before you could ring the school bell ..I was gone over the back wall and away. Then some bright spark hit on the idea that If I lived at the school I may stay and in January 1964 I arrived at St. Michael’s and although I was a little homesick I stayed, other than a time when I thought I was in trouble and I ran away and got as far as Ely.

The Police took me back as far as King’s Lynn and Mr. Pott picked me up in the Commer at 2 in the morning. The King’s Lynn Police were great, I was given chocolate, soft drink, and ice cream. Mr. Pott was not amused. He did not speak all the way home and he would glance over his shoulder to look at me with the look that only he could give and then we arrived at Heacham. I cannot remember who drove the Commer that night but whilst he was putting it away Mr. Pott spoke to me and told me that I had been silly and that I was wanted at St.Michael’s and he gave me a hug. He never gave me one again and I never saw him give anyone else one but it made me feel special and I had then and still have the highest regard for ‘Uncle Roger’.

My years at St. Michael’s ‘64 to the end of ‘66 I consider as the happiest years of my life I had friends who I still hold dear although over the years we’ve lost touch (maybe I’ll find some of them again at the reunion). And I have memories that will last a lifetime, like trying to get out of sport on a cold Winters day and telling matron that you had a sore throat and then being dropped off the Chieftain bus a Snettisham and walking in the Rubber Macs up to Ingoldisthorpe.

The school was crazy! I loved it. After I left St. Michael’s I spent a short time in the Army before emigrating down-under I had heard so much about Australia from Miss Hayes-Williams that I felt I already knew the place before I arrived . I went into the Nursing profession and after a couple of years I met a ‘sheila’ and got married and had three wonderful sons who are now 27, 21 and one son who drowned when he was 5. I have also adopted another son who is 15 and two daughters 16 and 12 and late May will be a grandfather. Sadly my wife has dementia and requires a lot of full time care

.My career has changed. I was ordained in 1994 in the Congregational Church and pastored a small community church on Bruny Island in Tasmania but I did not believe that I was where God wanted me and after working with the Salvation Army for a while and being overtured by the Continuing Anglican Church I became Orthodox and was ordained last year into the orthodox priesthood, where I have been given a new name, Father Alban.

It is the second time that I have had a ‘name’ change at St.Michael’s I was known as Christopher, When I came to Australia the Hospital where I worked was full of Christophers, Christines, and even a Kris,.. so I started to use my middle name David and in Australia every one knows me as that so if you get a little confused by my “differing” names in October just think of it as very Michaelian. If any of “THE MITRE” readers are down under at any time my home is always open to old Michaelians Best wishes to you all and see you in October.

Father Alban. David McMahon-Winter (Chris Winter)

  Winters At St. Michael's.

The Shooting Lodge had very little heating as far as I can remember, a coal fire in the top Dining Room and one in the Lounge! With the always difficult problem of getting the coal.

The dormitories in the New building were completely unheated as were the two small ones upstairs at the Shooting Lodge and windows were always supposed to be open. Thus any warmth generated was quickly lost.

Ingoldisthorpe was heated by the dreaded water filled oil radiators and God help the boy who let it smoke. As these monsters were the only heat at the school before its role was changed, it was in ones own interest to try and get the things as hot as possible, but there was a very fine line between maximum heat and clouds of black smoke. One was quickly trained on how to deal with and maintain these machines by the boys who was happily relinquishing the task. But never the less they were quite a problem to get to run in a stable manner, and even at the best of times they never really heated a classroom. I think that some of these machines went to The Shooting Lodge in the New Building at some stage. I do remember that some how water got into the paraffin tank in the yard at Ingoldisthorpe. This did cause quite a problem in getting the radiators to light, but it took some while to find the problem and drain off the water in the tank. I don’t think it was ever discovered how several gallons of water got into this tank or who may have been responsible.

On one occasion in the top dormitory at Gresham House some one opened the window rather wider than necessary for the time of year and I found my bed well dusted with snow in the morning and due to the cold this had not melted and was able to be swept off. It is quite amazing that the large water tank in that top dormitory never to my knowledge froze and flooded the house. Many’s the time we have had to get off the bus and push it up Ingoldisthorpe hill in icy weather, and more boys would have to get off to lighten the load and help push if the first attempt failed.

During one bad spell, although I cannot remember which year heavy overnight snow blocked the road between Heacham and Snettisham so it was not possible to get to the school at Ingoldisthorpe. The power was also down and the Range in the kitchen at The Shooting Lodge had to be lit for the first time in years to help with the preparation of meals. Milk was fetched by sledge from the farm near Wadsworth’s shop, but the milk could not be bottled due to now power, so I think it came up pulled by several boys in a small churn.

The power was off for about 2 or 3 days which made school work very difficult and home work at night almost impossible. I seem to remember lots of walks and helping people in the village dig out drives and paths and also help push local motorists out of ditches as the roads were almost untreated for a time.

The winter of 62/63 was the worst as the sea formed pack ice which froze over several days round the pier legs and cross members so that as the tide came in the whole end section of the pier was dragged out of the ground and collapsed in a tangled heap as the tide when out. It was never to be the same again but is was quite a difficult job climbing over the pack ice which was 4 to 6 feet high in places at the high tide mark to actually see the power of the tide and ice and the damage done.

I remember the water mains in the villages were frozen in a lot of cases because of the weeks of very heavy penetrating frosts, and I think that we only played games once or twice in the whole term. This was almost unheard of.

For some reason I had to drive on of the cooks to Ingoldisthorpe before breakfast presumably the bad weather and I know that at the time there were dormitories upstairs, but I am not sure which meal the cook was going to prepare. However I happened to go into the scullery where the coke boiler was busily heating water for showers and washing etc. and used the hot tap. To my horror I got a jet of steam and no water. I shut down the boiler and told one of staff to try and reduce the heat but not to turn on the taps. I rushed upstairs grabbed a boy out of bed and told him no one was to go into the shower room under any circumstances. It was then necessary to go up the step into the roof and find the tank and as I had suspected the ball cock had frozen shut and the tank was extremely low in water. With some difficulty I managed to get the thing unfrozen nearly suffering frost-bitten hands in the process and get the water to run. It was then a tricky operation to get some water back into the system without causing the boiler to explode, as I had to run between the roof and the scullery to check on the heat of the boiler and slowly reduce the pressure in the hot water taps. Having got the system safe the poor boys was still on duty outside the shower room with not the slightest idea of what was wrong. Had anyone turned on a shower they would have been very severely scalded by the pressure of steam that had built up.

Geoff Kimberley

NASA TESTS   or   SOMETIMES IT DOES TAKE A ROCKET SCIENTIST.

Scientists at NASA built a gun specifically to launch dead chickens at the windshields of airliners, military jets and the space shuttle, all traveling at maximum velocity.

The idea is to simulate the frequent incidents of collisions with airborne fowl to test the strength of the windshields.           

British engineers heard about the gun and were eager to test it on the windshields of their new high speed trains. Arrangements were made, and a gun was sent to the British engineers.

When the gun was fired, the engineers stood shocked as the chicken hurtled out of the barrel, crashed into the shatterproof shield, smashed it to smithereens, blasted through the control console, snapped the engineer’s backrest in two and embedded itself in the back wall of the cabin, like an arrow shot from a bow.           

The horrified Britons sent NASA the disastrous results of the experiment, along with the designs of the windshield, and begged the U.S. scientists for suggestions.            NASA responded with a one-line memo:

First Impressions Of St. Michael's

May 1957 and my Parents disappeared through the porch to inspect St.Michael's, leaving me outside Ingoldisthorpe Rectory in the car, with instructions to exercise the dog whilst they were away.

Having taken him someway up the road to Shernborne, I returned to find the car gone. Fortunately the eastern boundary of the front garden at the Rectory had exceedingly old and large diameter trees and I was able to conceal both myself and my embarrassment from the inquisitive gaze of pupils for an hour or more until my Parents returned (without Roger, thank goodness)

They explained that Mr. Pott had leapt into the Hillman and shot off through the gates for Heacham before they had reached their car and there certainly wasn't time to consider my whereabouts if they were not to lose the Headmaster completely.

My first experience of Roger's speed, and the wind whistling round the exposed school building called St. Michael's.

Ian Dupont

THE WINTER OF 1962/3

I was still at the ‘Academy’ when it struck, sleeping in one of the small dormitories (eight dorm, I think it was) in the New Building at the rear of The Shooting Lodge. The New Building has gone now, I wonder what interesting things were found by the demolition workers when it was dismantled. The stories about it will live on all the time there are Old Michaelians to keep them going.

Back to the Winter of ‘62/3. Several things stick in my mind. There was the snatching of all the extra blankets you could put your hands on. At that time the best thing about Army Cadets was the great coat! Then there was the HEAVY Mac, sorry Mr Pott, black mackintosh. I also recall that Corona bottles were at a premium, I think I had three or four being used as hot water bottles, well as hot as the water in The Shooting Lodge would permit. Finally, we still had to have AT LEAST ONE window open.

The daily journey to Ingoldisthorpe was an epic in itself. On some days the Double Decker could not get through early in the day and so we walked. For what seems days now when the bus did get through we all had to get off and pushed the thing up Ingoldisthorpe Hill!

I know we always got good (?) food all through the bad spell, thanks to the ladies who did the cooking. I am sure they only struggled to keep going because they thought more of us than we ever gave them credit for at the time.

In five years at the school this was the only time that I did not have to look for an excuse not to play games. I remember Mr Pott shouting “No games today. Get your Wellington boots and Mackintoshes on and walk to Dersingham and back along the back road”.

Provided you could keep warm, the chalk pit was the place to dodge into to rest a while until the more energetic passed by on their way back.

In this same winter myself and an amazing character who shall remain nameless convinced the blacksmith at the bottom of the footpath in Ingoldisthorpe to make us some primitive ice skates that we could strap to our shoes. If I remember correctly the only other thing he did for us when we popped in on the way back from PE in the Church Hall was to nail our gym shoes to the floor! How many of you (boys) remember Mr Rudd and his slipper?

We then went skating at 10.30 at night on the pond in the field behind The Manor Hotel. Returning about an hour later we decided a hot drink and a bacon sandwich would be great before retiring. Just as the bacon was smelling good, headlights appeared coming

up the road. Would they turn in to The School? They did. It was too late to do much, if we hid the evidence there was still the smell which would give us away. We waited for what seemed hours for the inevitable. Eventually the kitchen door opened, and simultaneously as the light went on a voice said “What’s going on here then?”. Relief! It was Cliff Wallington, a teacher at the time, but at least we were going to dodge the worst! Thanks Cliff!

Other things from that winter were pigeon pie. Made from the poor birds we found frozen to the ground in the field next to the rectory. Who of the kitchen staff made the pies I cannot recall.

Then there was the sea at Hunstanton, frozen out to beyond the end of the pier (alas no more). When I tell this story now nobody believes me until I show them the photographs. Did anyone really walk out on the ice to the end of the pier?

For several years I've been blaming it on advancing years, poor blood, lack of vitamins, air pollution, saccharin, obesity, booze, dating and another dozen maladies that make you wonder if life is worth living.

But now I know that it isn't that!    I'm tired because I'm overworked!

The population of this Country is 51 million 21 million are retired that leaves 30 million to do the work...........

There are 19 million still in school that leaves 11 million to do the work...........

Of these 2 million are unemployed and 4 million are employed by the government that leaves 5 million to do the work............

1 million are in the armed forces which leaves 4 million to do the work.........

3 million are employed by City, County and Borough Councils leaving 1million to do the work.........

there are 620,000 in hospitals and 379,998 in  prisons leaving 2 people to do the work..........

you and me and you're sitting on your  rear end reading this?!?!?!

No bloody wonder I'm tired!!!!   

                      ( provided again by Rachel  (tempus fugit) Golby, )

            I was brought up and lived in Addington near Croydon until I was 10 and my
parents separated. My Father went to Oxford and my Mother to Maidstone, somehow details of St Michael’s came to the attention of my Father and after some discussion via my Godmother it was decided that sending me to boarding school would solve many problems, as I was being shunted around between various relations.

            So after Easter in 1956 I was duly kitted out and sent to Heacham Station for my first contact with Roger. The various school items of Uniform were produced by Roger including the infamous black rubber mac. The 12 dorm at The Shooting Lodge was where I started and the use of black mac and boots was made clear from day one.

            Although it was very heavy going I stuck at it in spite continued problems at home which continued for years, and in fact my parents had no direct contact with each other whatsoever except via my Godmother and then me, to the time my Father died over 20 years later. During my school years I had to decide when I would visit each parent during each holiday, so as to cope with the logistics of getting kit ready for the next term and receiving and dispatching the trunk to and from school by PLA..

            On leaving school I was offered a job as a Research Assistant at the Dept. of Forestry at Oxford University. This was started as a three year research project to find the best sort of plant cover for a water catchment area around reservoirs. It was also necessary to find out how much a tree drinks, and this proved to be quite a tricky number. Putting a plastic bag over a 40 foot tree in the middle of a wood and connecting the necessary machinery to the power supply caused some problems and a few very nasty moments, especially if the wind got up or heavy rain fell while a monitoring section was in progress. Not only did the power supply to part of Oxford fail due to the load we were drawing on one occasion but the special plastic bag blew away in the wind. As this was extremely expensive we had to chase it in the Land Rover round Oxford to recover it, happily fairly intact. The test site I was dealing with in the main was in Yorkshire on the Moors above Hebden Bridge, which was very handy for commuting and it was there that I discovered that rain did not fall but went horizontally so it was impossible to stay dry.

            After about two and a half years I started to look for a permanent job as this was due to finish in about 6 months. As it happened the research continued for at least another 10 years but at the time I was not to know that. Having done some research I applied to Lloyd, Westminster and Barclays Bank’s, Westminster never even replied but after interviews and medicals I was accepted by both Lloyds and Barclays. Lloyds told me I might be sent anywhere and Barclays told me there was a position either in Oxford or Kent. As I knew more people in Maidstone and my Mother and relations lived in the area I plumped for Kent. My first branch was Strood on the Medway and I started at the bottom making tea and doing all the grotty jobs even though I was a late entrant at 21 it made no difference at all. Everything was done by hand in those days, no machines, so you had to be able to add up a page of figures in your head and get it right. I was next sent to do 18 months at Heathrow Airport, this was a plum job as you had to be very accurate with a till and able to think on your feet as all sorts of problems were likely to come up especially at weekends and during the night.

            Having helped train up the next shifts to man the counter at Heathrow I returned to branch work in Kent. One was moved about, at a moments notice sometimes to do various jobs and gradually I gained higher grades until being selected to move to the banks Inspection Department for Internal Audit and Fraud. This was again a plum job and difficult to get into but someone must have thought my face  would fit.

             Although based in London I was working almost entirely in my old region, which was very unusual and I was only the second person to do this although it became quite common once this new approach had been tested out. I spent just under 4 years on Inspection and although much of the work was mundane it was a very useful experience, as it taught me what to look for when I was posted as a Manager on leaving the Department. During my time on the team we uncovered all sorts of fraud and fiddles both from the public and staff, which in some cases took months to sort out and trace every entry on an account, so that we had enough evidence to involve the police and get a conviction. The job also required great tact as some Managers, who were of a much higher grade than me, did not always take too kindly to being told that they were not doing as good a job of running a branch as they thought. Although I did have lending experience I chose to stay in Operations and was thus made an Operations manager when I left Inspection.

            As an Ops Manager you are expected to know and be able to do anything and everything as far as daily life in the branch was concerned and this made life fairly interesting and pretty hectic on many occasions. I started with a branch of 20 staff and worked up though 3 branches until I had 150 staff, the more you have, the more eyes you need in the back of your head as well as a 6th sense of what is going on around you.

            I was then transferred to Regional Office as Assistant to the Financial Manager, this section dealt with IT matters in Regional office and Income and Expenses throughout the region in minute detail. The Region covered from Dartford to Worthing being all Kent and Sussex, and part of Surrey. The section reported directly to The Regional Directors who needed to be kept up to date with the progress or not against targets on a monthly basis and as there were some 3000 staff in the region this was a very busy section with deadlines that had to be met. This also meant training branch staff on the use of PC’s for use as administration/ business tools which was only just being introduced rather than a time consuming paper based system.

            Then I was in charge of replacing all the branch accounting machines in the region on a rolling programme which took about 7 months to complete. I sat on a number of Bank wide committees on various subjects and then dealt with customers Region wide as the Customer Service Manager which was dealing with complaints and sorting them out, often at considerable cost to the branch concerned who had not resolved the problem in the first place. Finally I was appointed as Regional Operations Manager which covered all technical and admin. matters relating to the building and the 250 plus staff who worked in it. Also I was responsible for all legal and technical matters raised by all the branches in our region which included fraud both by staff and the public. In one instance it was necessary to have a photo put on BBC’s Crime Watch to find out who they were, it was successful and the person was sent to prison for 2 years.

            When it was decided to halve the number of Regions in the country to save costs and staff as ours was to be merged with South London I opted for Voluntary Redundancy having done 30 years. This was agreed and I supervised the merge and closed down our building and left 31/12/95.

            Subsequently Jean and I bought a property in Cromer, Norfolk to do it up and do Bed & Breakfast with 3 double rooms en suite. The renovations took about 8 months for the inside to be up and running as the property was a wreck, although with character having been built in 1910. We ran successfully for a year until we were made an offer we could not refuse, so we moved to Wroxham where we now are. We still do B & B with one double room and Jean continues with her bespoke Picture Framing all of which gives us enough with my reduced bank pension to keep body and soul together. So life goes on without the great stress of work and at last one can actually enjoy what we are doing, which has made a huge difference. Being an only child St Michael’s taught me to be independent from an early age, and to have consideration and respect for others which is sadly lacking these days where the attitude is often “what’s in it for me”.