Thoughts of Schoolboy and Man submitted by
John Brewitt (1963)
On
my first day at Ecclesfield Grammar School in
September 1958, I entered an unfamiliar,
somewhat intimidating, new world. Earlier days
at junior school now seemed a distant, cosy
memory. One recollection of our first assembly
in the Lady Mabel Hall was of seeing Mr Harrison, the headmaster, for the first time.
(He was already well-advanced into middle age
and stayed for just that one term before
retiring at Christmas).
All the children’s names were read out, one
by one, in alphabetical order. We were then
directed to our classrooms. People in my class
who are on the contact list include John Barraclough (1963), Christopher Birkby (1963),
Peter Breen (1963), Joyce Clarke (1962), Peter Carney (1963) and Gillian Cauldwell (1963).
Our position in the alphabet meant that we
formed part of class 1A.
Our classroom was quite new, some five years
old, in the block adjoining the Lady Mabel
Hall. We were in the first room on the
left-hand side of the corridor that led from
the hall, opposite the kitchens. We were
seated in strict alphabetical order and the
desks were arranged in neat, regimental rows.
At dinner times the desks were converted,
quite ingeniously, into dining tables before
reverting to normal at the end of the meals.
We were quick to learn that one advantage of
our classroom was that the teacher for the
next lesson could easily be seen walking from
the old block. They would normally come out of
the main door but it was not unknown for more
devious members to come out of the side door
near the gymnasium. This gave us less warning
but our key vantage point minimised the
element of surprise, allowing time to cease
any untoward behaviour.
In particular, I vividly remember our maths
teacher, Mr.E.A.Hayes, who was known as ‘Gabby’,
although I don't recall the reason for this.
In stature, he was not particularly tall, but
he seemed to me to be an imposing figure. What
little hair he had left was cut short with
military precision and was almost white.
Invariably very smart in appearance, he
sported a short, trimmed moustache. Gabby wore
a black gown over his suit, as did all the
other teachers, and this seemed to add to his
air of authority.
Mr Hayes was not a man to be trifled with -
indeed he, and others, seemed to rule by fear.
Warnings signalling his approach would usually
be - “Look out, Gabby’s coming.” No-one
dare speak in his lessons unless they were
asked a question and woe betides anyone who
was foolish enough to conduct their own
private conversations or to laugh unduly. Such
folly would bring quick retribution, as I
found out on one occasion.
Gabby seemed to be in his element in the
classroom, especially when he could illustrate
something on the board. He had a king-sized
wooden protractor, which was used to great
effect to construct various geometric shapes.
This was employed in conjunction with an
equally jumbo-sized T-square, with which he
delighted in constructing right-angled
triangles. However, his pièce de résistance
was a larger-than-life pair of compasses which
he frequently used to describe various arcs
and circles. All these gizmos were produced
with great aplomb from a large rectangular
black leather case.
Gabby relished the opportunity to enlighten us
about 2.pi.r and other formulae. We
were brainwashed with his formula for solving
quadratic equations. Any former pupil worth
their salt can probably complete the following
sequence: ‘ x equals minus b plus or minus
the square root of b squared………...’. I
recall that Gabby was almost beside himself
with glee as he demonstrated the proof of this
equation.
We were issued with precise instructions for
the correct completion of our maths books.
This would even extend to telling us the
precise line of the exercise book which should
be used for the starting point when
constructing a diagram. The instructions were
explained so meticulously that even a fool
would have had difficulty in misunderstanding.
Gabby would then patrol the classroom looking
at a random selection of books to ensure his
instructions had been complied with to the
letter. Nothing would escape his eagle eye.
Compliance would bring a satisfied smile to
his face. Such was the nature of the man.
I understand that prior to teaching at
Ecclesfield Grammar School, he served as a
Major in the Army during the Second World War.
Then, following his retirement from teaching,
he lived to be well into his nineties before
taking his place in the great staff room in
the sky.
The teachers of today bear no resemblance to
him and the schools may well be poorer for it.
He was a product of a very different age.
Whether or not he would have survived in these
days of political correctness is a contentious
issue.
Last Saturday, I was passing the school and
decided, on impulse, to drive into the large,
new car park, which was formerly used as
tennis courts. After walking in the deserted
grounds for a few minutes, I saw the renovated
1931 main building and the refurbished Lady
Mabel Hall. It was with some regret that I saw
that my old classroom had been demolished,
memories and all. On its site stood a far
superior modern building. Somehow, one does
not expect to live long enough to see this
happen! As I made my way back to the car, I
could not help wondering what Gabby would have
made of it all.
