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Dear Old Michaelians, |
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We have to announce the death of two Members of the Old Michaelian Staff. Miss Mary Bone, who died in December and Miss Anna Godfrey who died in January
Courtesy of Lynn News 11 December 2001. MISS ANNA GODFREY. ADDRESS BY SIMON POTT Remembering a Dear Friend.
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Miss Hayes-Williams (Peg) |
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ON A RATHER blustery autumnal day that was forecast to be very wet but fortunately held off, the ladies of Shanklin and Sandown Golf Club played a medal round in the inaugural Wight Motors Challenge Trophy. Playing three shots under her handicap of 33 with a good score of net 69 in spite of very windy conditions, the overall handicap winner was Mrs. Felicity Cole. Apart from retaining the trophy for one year, Mrs. Cole also wins a round of golf for two at The Old Thorns GC Liphook. Longest drive was won by Lyndsey Burden and nearest the pin on the ninth was Mrs. Cole. Some fun prizes were awarded to the lady with the highest medal score, Jill Swallow and Amanda Wade, who won a hole-in-one on the temporary green on the ninth (sadly, not in play) and the longest putt sunk on the 18th green of 40ft went to Flip Cole The ladies donated their entry fees on the day and a raffle donated by Wight Motors raised funds to purchase toys and games for the newly built children's ward at St Mary's Hospital. |
Many thanks to John Haslett who sent the following by e-mail. Martin this brings back a few memories from way back.
I'm talking about Hide and Seek in the park - The corner shop - Hopscotch - Butterscotch - Skipping - Handstands - Football with a stone, an old Coke can or a football in desperate need of pumping up - Jumpers for goalposts - Swapping bikes - Fingerbobs. - Beano, Dandy, Buster and Twinkle - Roly Poly - Hula Hoops - Jumping the stream, building dams - The smell of the sun and fresh cut grass - Bazooka Joe bubble gum - An ice cream cone on a warm summer night from the van that plays a tune, chocolate or vanilla or strawberry or maybe Neapolitan or perhaps a screwball with the bubblegum at the bottom - when curly wurly's were as long as your arm and wagon wheels as big as your face. |
Memories of Early St
Michael's Revd. John Maurice Ashworth,
BA Rector of Boughton 1937-48. Taught English and I think French. He taught from the outset of the School until he left in 1948 to become Dean of Trinidad where he remained for 6 years. He was a large and powerful man and I well remember him reading to us "A Tale of Two Cites” giving each character a different voice. He had a young daughter at the School. |
Life before St Michael’s |
Simon sent me this extraordinary letter he has received from Omar Holcomb and wondered if it would interest OM’s. It makes fascinating reading. Dear Mr. Simon Pott, Please permit me to introduce myself and, at the same time, apologize for this abrupt intrusion. I am Omar Holcomb, of Fremont, California. The occasion for this intrusion is that I searched the Internet earlier this evening for the name "Roger Percival Pott" and was taken to the web site for St. Michael's School. There I learned that the Reverend Canon Roger Percival Pott, of fond memory (mine), had passed away in December 1992. The Reverend Mr. Pott was my headmaster in 1937 and 1938 at the Yokohama International School in Japan. At the web site, I found a group photograph which included his likeness and which verified to me that the St. Michael’s Mr. Pott was the selfsame person as the Yokohama International School's Mr. Pott. At that time, I was in what in America would be the second and third years of high school there. Through the years I have thought often of him, for he was a remarkable man. At the time, he still was unmarried and had his quarters in the same dormitory as the students. We had meals with him in the dormitory and at the school. During the luncheons in the school gymnasium, he played classical music on the phonograph and compelled silence among the students so that they could experience the full effect of the music. That experience laid the foundation for my life-long appreciation of the classics. He was a tall and handsome man and often walked in the mornings along the Bluff in Yokohama from the dormitory to the school. To say that he walked at a rapid pace would be an understatement. We boys walked along with him much of the time and tried to match his pace. Inevitably we were left behind. All my life since, though, until the present, I too have been a rapid walker - and I attribute my good health to that exercise and to Mr. Pott. My school friends and I were with him in the summers of 1937 and 1938 when he ran the school's summer hostel near Karuizawa, in the Japan Alps. There I benefited from the fencing and tennis lessons which he provided, as well as the exercise occasioned by the long bicycle ride between the hostel and the town of Karuizawa. Those days under the supervision of Mr. Pott were the happiest of my adolescence. Having found the information about his passing, and that he had a son, Simon Pott, I felt the urge to send you a few words of my memories of him. He must have had a rich and worthy career between 1938 and 1992. If you should feel inclined to send me an email sketch of his career after I knew him, I would indeed welcome it. Sincerely yours, Omar Holcomb. |
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Paul Hodge Writes |
Many thanks for your letter of the 17th July. It was waiting for me on my return from five weeks of archaeological sites in the west and north of Ireland (3, 800 miles).
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Reflections of an Old Man |
My name is John Tanner I am an American who’s father was in the U.S. Air Force at Scunthorpe R.A.F. station when I went to St. Michael’s during the 1957-58 school year. Some of my fondest memories of my 3 year stay in England was at St. Michael’s, the nightly walks to Gresham House in the Mac and Sou'wester, the stops at the fish and chip shop on the way and back to the Shooting Lodge in the morning for breakfast and then to school in the Double Decker bus or the Shooting Break. After I got on the internet I spent years trying to find out about St. Michael’s the only thing I found out that it had closed and nobody knew anything about it. Through a fluke I was contacted by an old boy and told about the web site it was one of the happiest days of my life when I was able to find it. The people I met and went to school with. I see the pictures of the Reunions on the web site but if I met you walking down the street I would not know you. Because in my mind you will always be young and that’s the way I remember you. John is in regular contact and can be found at jgnt@hotmail.com At the moment he is undergoing surgery to give him a new knee and we wish him well. Ed. A plea to all those of you who have e-mail but have not let us know the address. |
One Eye. . . . .
. . .One Ear
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The long walk when the bus would drop us off outside of Snettisham to trek to Ingoldisthorpe seemed to be an unthinkable distance especially when it was raining or snowing and when on a summer Saturday afternoon one said that you were going to walk along the beach from Heacham to Hunstanton and back it was akin to going on safari. Then I came to Australia! Here distance is vast and comments like "well sport, I think I'll go and visit the neighbours, it’s a couple of hours drive or so I'll stay overnight”, are commonplace and towns can be hundreds of kilometres apart. I'm in one of the more 'densely populated ' areas and after you leave our little town population 1200, it’s only 60 kilometers to the next town. My son lives in Perth which is 3000 kilometers away, that’s about the same distance as London to Moscow or Hammerfest, or Ankara or even Reykjavik .My son says "Drop over for a couple of days" and I bloody well might because Australia's like that. Perhaps that why as the saying goes, they’re a weird mob. not as weird as when I arrived 33 years ago but still WEIRD. I would like to give you an example. In 1970 I was in the Northern Territory and I was working for a family who entertained the Northern Territory Administrator. And he related a tale of a pub on the road from Darwin to the Alice .It was run by a little old lady who was very mean with the shekels The refrigeration which was powered by a diesel generator was only put on for an hour in the morning and with the temperature in the high 30s (on a cool day) one had to be early to get a cold beer. It so happened that one hot afternoon the Northern Territory Administrator was travelling to Tennent Creek and his Party stopped at the pub for refreshments. They were aware of the beer being a little on the warm side so they opted for TEA! Well old Ma had never had anyone ask for tea in her pub before but she found an assortment of old cracked cups brewed a pot of tea which she plonked on the table along with a dirty bag of sugar and a huge spoon. One of the aides asked for milk to put in the tea and old ma scratched her grey head, muttered some common Aussie words relating to his birth status and shuffled into the kitchen where in full view of the distinguished party picked up the cats bowl and emptied the milk from it into a beer jug and delivered it to the aide. One of the great characters of Australia who are sadly fast disappearing. In my travels and work I have met and had the privilege to know many such characters and maybe the characters that I knew at St.Michael’s unknowingly prepared me for a life among the Strange and Wonderful. So dear Michaelian’s I salute you and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. As a postscript.... If you plan to visit Australia's beautiful Northern Territory don't worry Ma's old Pub is long gone and a world class 5 star tourist resort stands in its place. But if you order tea, DON’T ASK FOR MILK...just in case. |
David McMahon Winter (in the Antipodes)
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This guy was lonely, and decided life would be more fun if he had a pet. So he went to the pet store and told the owner that he wanted to buy an unusual pet. After some discussion, he finally bought a centipede, which came in a little white box to use for his house. He took the box back home, found a good location for the box, and decided he would start off by taking his new pet to the bar to have a drink. So he asked the centipede in the box, "Would you like to go to Frank's with me and have a beer? " But there was no answer from his new pet. This bothered him a bit, but he waited a few minutes and then asked him again, "How about going to the bar and having a drink with me? " But again, there was no answer from his new friend and pet. So he waited a few minutes more, thinking about the situation. He decided to ask him one more! time; this time putting his face up against the centipede's house and shouting, "Hey, in there! Would you like to go to Frank's place and have a drink with me?" A little voice came out of the box: "I heard you the first time! I'm putting on my shoes. " Jill Baxter. |
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It was autumn, and the Indians on the remote reservation asked their new Chief if the winter was going to be cold or mild. Since he was an Indian Chief in a modern society, he had never been taught the old secrets, and when he looked at the sky, he couldn't tell what the weather was going to be. Nevertheless, to be on the safe side, he replied to his tribe that the winter was indeed going to be cold and that the members of the village should collect wood to be prepared. But also being a practical leader, after several days, he got an idea. He went to the phone booth, called the National Weather Service and asked, "Is the coming winter going to be cold?" "It looks like this winter is going to be quite cold indeed," the meteorologist at the weather service responded. So the Chief went back to his people and told them to collect even more wood in order to be prepared. One week later, he called the National Weather Service again. "Is it going to be a very cold winter?" "Yes," the man at National Weather Service again replied, "it's going to be a very cold winter." The Chief again went back to his people and ordered them to collect every scrap of wood they could find. Two weeks later he called the National Weather Service again. "Are you absolutely sure that the winter is going to be very cold?" "Absolutely," the man replied. "It's going to be one of the coldest winters ever. "How can you be so sure?" the Chief asked. The weatherman replied - "The Indians are gathering firewood like crazy"! Mike Smith Internal Revenue Service Theme Song |
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OLD MICHAELIAN ASSOCIATION Old Michaelian’s attending the 2001 Reunion included |
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ululated
uttering's of an erring editor I apologise that this edition is somewhat late, The pressure of not working is poor for productivity!!!
Good to hear from them and we hope that they may join the OMA. |