I am sure that getting someone's "gowk" provided us with immunity to many a disease when we were kids
Thomas Street, my first memory of the place is the teacher locked me in a cupboard and forgot all about it, at least I hope so, after a long period of silence, the cleaners found me, shortly after my Mother arrived at the school,and I got a clip around the ears , rough justice. As I was innocent of the initial crime ,(talking in class) but the guilty boy had lost his mother that week, so I took the rap. What a school that was. I dont know whether this is true or not but I was led to believe that no one had ever passed the eleven plus from there, judging by the class I was in, I can well believe it , from Mr Price down the school was an absolute shambles .
Locked you in a cupboard? Imagine the outcry if that happened these days. That teachers career would be ended instantly.
Further to eating someone’s gowk (young ones on here should not read this; it may cause revulsion and nightmares) what about chewing gum? How many mouths did a piece of chewing gum go into? In the late 40s when people had nowt and child poverty was commonplace, it was common for someone lucky enough to be chewing gum to be surrounded by kids clammoring to “bags your chewing gum” only to have someone else claim “I bags seconds,” so that piece of gum was thoroughly masticated by at least 3 lads! Even orange peel was eagerly sought after. We finally resorted to chewing road tar - the clean pieces before they were melted down. Teachers warned us it was poisonous and that we would suffer myriad plagues from chewing it. Yet, here we are and as far as I know no one ever suffered because of it.
We had a teacher, at comp, used to park his car in the corner of the yard where kids played. Near to his classroom. Used to drive through the middle of the yard on a morning to get there, kids having to get out of the way because he was never very early. Bloody menace he was. Imagine that now, half the kids would probably refuse to move and threaten to sue. We were scared of him though, different times...
Nope. I’d imagine it would be next to impossible for a left handed to operate one of those sharpeners. Unless he/she went around to the other side of the table and leaned across. Even then it would be very uncomfortable. Left handlers weren’t catered for in those days, in fact, they were frowned upon and forced to use their right hand. (This in the 40s).
thankfully i missed that and was allowed to use my left hand (was a sign of the devil in some places apparently) but sat watching others with scissors cut out with nice neat lines and i wondered why i struggled just to get them to cut, and the messy smudge across every page of writing sometimes had me wanting to be right handed.
My mother was quite strict herself and probably supported the teacher tbh., it amuses me to hear of all this emphasis on mental health these days, its probably progress but I honestly dont know how they would have coped in the 40's.
It's 70+ years since I was at Thomas Street School so I can't comment on the academic qualities but I do remember it being a happy place (perhaps because I associate the place with my first orange) and the only teacher I can remember is Miss Lazenby.
I remember doing all of them from the 50/60's Sandy, l lived up the hills in Catchgate so we were a few years behind the times
I was probably a year ahead of you mate, I remember Miss Lazenby and Mr Greathead, Mr Price was the one legged head master. It was a happy place and happy days. We the Burlinson Gang had great fun running around the place at play time, a run which included galloping up the stairs at one end of the main building, and galloping across the wooden floor stamping our feet in the middle then down the stairs at the opposite end. The noise sounded to us at any rate just like a cattle stampede, a feature of many westerns viewed in the local fleapits.
I remember going into any working mens club dead early and some one would come over and say, you can’t sit there that’s Betty’s seat. Every club had a Betty
Going to the field for a kick about on your Raleigh chopper and using the handle bars to keep your football with you on the journey
Great show. You couldn’t have anything like that these days or you’d be hounded for being sexist. It shows how relaxed and accepting people were in those days. These days you have to watch every word. It seems whatever you say it is classed as sexist, ageist, racist or just ist!
Thats the one, I had forgotten its name, I was only at HL for a few months , as I had to get up about 5 in the morning to get to work for 7.30 , if I worked a half shift I was getting home about 10.30 it was no life for a 23 year old manabouttown. I did not know it at the time but my life was to change dramaticly for the better after being paid off.
I remember the bottle jockeys! The ads were mini tv shows in their own right. Ha’way then . You’ve gotta tell us the whole story now.
