Reminiscences

During quiet periods in my work as I sit in front of my PC 155 miles North East of Aberdeen, half way between the Shetland Islands and Norway, I sometimes reminisce on my school days, I find it easy to transport myself back in time to my childhood and the early days at St. Michael's. At that time there were only about thirty of forty pupils at the school and a curate was still living in the 'Old House', a Mr. Taylor, not Henry but another Mr. Taylor with his wife and I believe daughter. His accommodation included the notorious 'bathroom' and the two rooms upstairs overlooking the courtyard and down stairs their kitchen was the pantry, this was about 1946. 

During the war years the grounds of the rectory were neglected and overgrown, shrubs and trees had grown out of hand and the area that eventually became the playing field was a lovely wilderness. This area originally had a grass tennis court and an orchard and was crisscrossed with numerous paths along which a small boy could easily be ambushed or get lost on a damp foggy autumn day. 

During break we were free to build dens, make fires, climb trees, make bombs and indulge in a host of other activities that would be unthinkable in a school playground today. Fires were a favourite; built from twigs, leaves and fallen branches and now whenever I smell smoke from burning autumn leaves I am jolted back in time. After one summer break the Nigerian boys returned to school with a number of .303 shells, these could be exploded by attaching a loop of string to the top and bottom, a few quick swings around the head and a sharp blow against a tree would produce a very loud bang. After two or three explosions Mr Taylor was flushed out of the staff room and told the boys he didn't think their game was a good idea, they should stop, or someone might get hurt, I may add the shells were not blanks!

About 1950 I remember seeing a large bulldozer being unloaded from a low loader on the top road and to my amazement this was driven over the bank and into the school grounds. Immediately the driver set about demolishing everything in sight and headed for one of the beautiful old beach trees. At this point a large person, with cassock flowing and on a mission, came round the staff room corner of the house, headed for the scene and only just managed to save the tree but not before the bulldozer's blade had taken a slice out of the bark. Within a few weeks the area was cleared of trees and scrub, levelled, sewn with grass and soon in use as the sports field complete with running tracks, long jump, cricket pitches and flag pole. 

Break time was announced by the ringing of a bronze ARP hand bell but does anyone remember the original bell that hung on the outside of the house? This was rung at the end of break by a prefect hanging out of the window half way up the stairs. I remember watching Caroline McKullock doing this and when she saw me she stuck her tongue out! 

Prefects were assigned the task of keeping radiators filled with paraffin and although these were fitted with fuel gauges a lot of paraffin ended up on the wooden floors. Couple this with the fact that during break time a number of pupils were known to haunt the cellars lighting their way with candles I often wonder how the school was never burnt to the ground! The smell of burning candles, now there's another flash back and if Tony is reading this I still have 'The Key'! 

The arrival of the film projector was another landmark. I remember seeing Mr Tatler, the Latin master, carrying it into the school and wondering what it was. (I believe Mr Tatler left the school to join the BBC religious broadcasting department) The next day at lunch Mr Pott stood in his usual place between upper and lower dining room and announced the school had obtained a new film projectors, a Bell and Howell, one of the few new machines of its kind available in the country, it cost he said as much as a motor car and we must all take great care of it, as we all know that machine came to feature in the lives of everyone who attended St. Michael's. 

Frank Dixon