Memories

My comment about facebook on Araminta’s blog set me off on a bit of a reverie. (Slow day at work. Finished one project, bit of admin, trying to psyche up for the next substantive bit of work, failing at the moment.)

The second school I attended* was St Andrews C of E Primary School in Uxbridge. My father was in the Royal Air Force and the church and school was just across the road from the main gate of RAF Uxbridge. (The road there has since been rebuilt and the school is now behind a block of rather boring flats.) Because we were a service family, the list of schools I attended never fits in the spaces on forms where you have to ‘list schools attended – not that I fill those out these days. Apart from the odd stand-out detail, most of my recollections of school days are fairly hazy – I wasn’t really that interested, bright but lazy, that’s me, and the friends of my childhood and youth were drawn from the ranks of the other service brats marooned with me on various RAF bases in the wilds of different parts of England.

I do, however, for some strange reason, remember rather a lot about that first school. I remember the names of all of the teachers, except one, but I have a very clear mental picture of her, also. I passed through the hands of Mrs. James, Mr. Smith, Miss Carpenter and Mrs. I-don’t-remember-started with A. The headmistress was Miss Jones and the crossing warden was Mr. Kirby. The school was divided into houses, Raleigh, Drake, Frobisher and Hawkins and I was in Raleigh which meant I wore a red sash on sports days, half-holidays and other festive occasions – still under rationing way back then, so no actual school uniform.

I also have fairly detailed memories of the buildings, the playground, the classrooms, though whether they are entirely accurate or not is probably debatable, and the number 607 Uxbridge – Shepherd’s Bush trolleybus**. Digging a bit harder, I can remember a surprising number of children from the time, including Sally, the Friends Reunited girl and my first love, Patty, the West Indian girl who always smelled so nice because her mother bathed her every day, unlike the once-a-week rest of us. I also remember the first time my heart was broken when her father was posted. Sniff. (She was another service brat – I got used to the partings, as we all did.) She was the cause of my first disciplinary offence when I popped another little boy on the nose for trying to dance with her in English Country Dancing. 🙂 (“Smelly Freddie,’ the lad was called – bit like ‘Pigpen’ in the Charlie Brown cartoons.)

Back then we could walk from Uxbridge to Hillingdon through open country, crossing the River Pin (I think,) on a pipeline of some sort over the river, though there was a perfectly serviceable bridge not far away; no ‘Elf ‘n safety snoops in those halcyon days, and apart from ranging far and wide in the country, the highlight of the week was the Saturday morning matinee at the ABC cinema; thruppence to get in and thruppence for a drink on a stick, and then a shoot-out back through the town with either six-shooters or ray-guns depending on whether the serial had been been Hopalong Cassidy or Flash Gordon.
There’s tons more, but I’m sure you all have some paint you would like to watch drying…

* First was Northwall Road Infants School, in Deal.
**Jeez, isn’t the internet great – checking memory for the number and sure enough, here it is 😀