severnside gull
Well-known member
I went to HCGSFB in the sixties.
So few good memories.
I’d have happily torched it
So few good memories.
I’d have happily torched it
Hmmm.........recollections may vary.Yes, on reflection he was alright. Ross was the Latin God, though. Brilliant teacher.
Which recollection do you contest? Ross or Williamson?Hmmm.........recollections may vary.
Agreed. Major RHJC Ross. He pushed his subject such that it became the one you focused on above all others. Explains my grade A taken 1 year early too.Yes, on reflection he was alright. Ross was the Latin God, though. Brilliant teacher.
Tabritt was deputy head and during lunch once I stopped to talk to a mate who was on his dinner table. As I was a skinhead at the time he decided to stand and berate me to a stunned silenced dinner hall calling me a guttersnipe. He also managed to flex his cane across my buttocks on another occasion. We didn’t get on.Hove Grammar School for Boys was located nearby. According to my memories of my school days.
I hope the mural with Tabritt and other cane-wielding psychos is intact. Or burned to dust. One or the other. Fence.
Grade 3* taken 1 year earlyAgreed. Major RHJC Ross. He pushed his subject such that it became the one you focused on above all others. Explains my grade A taken 1 year early too.
Great story . I seem to remember my class called Williamson, 'Smiler', as in, with a big grin: "I'm sorry boy, but I have to cane you!"There was a twat who taught RI (religious instruction - pompous old bollocks more like) who threw chalk. Can't remember his name. Jack was a notorious prick who, fortunately, didn't teach me. Thomas and Bennett taught me maths. Prick, and lazy bastard, respectively.
One amusing recollection - one lunchtime, one of my pals opened a window of the music hut (our class room - 3L probably) to shout at a smaller boy, using the voice of Poxy Baxter, "Go down to the head master's office". At that very moment, said Poxy had manifested from around the side of the hut, en route to somewhere (probably to inspect a cadaver round the back of the squash courts), black cape flailing in the wind.
"No, you go down to the headmaster's office!", he ejaculated*.
I am afraid to admit that I sniggered. The boy in question, now age 66, occasionally goes to the Amex and we meet up once a year at the Swan. I must remember to ask him how Williamson greeted him. A nice cup of tea and a Bourbon biscuit, I'll wager. Yes.
*Channelling the opening line of one of the Billy Bunter books. Seems apt.
Mr Ross was great, my favourite teacher really - he was also my form master for a year. Intelligent, passionate, amusing and fair (Ross, not me). Only he could make Caesar's Gallic Wars seem worth knowing at all.Yes, on reflection he was alright. Ross was the Latin God, though. Brilliant teacher.
We went to Hove Park (I left in 1989), but lived ‘at’ Blatchington Mill. In Frant Road, literally the last house, immediately next to the gates of the school.We were in catchment area for both Blachington Mill and Hove Park, I was pleased my mum picked Hove Park as the uniform was blue and the upper school was close to the Goldstone ground. Left in 1998 to do a HND in computer science at Brighton technical college. Happy days
I went HCGS for girls, left 1970,after A levels. I wonder how many of the boys from the grammar school, that I used to fancy, are on NSC, but I don’t know their alias
I didn't know we were even allowed to TALK to each otherI went HCGS for girls, left 1970,after A levels. I wonder how many of the boys from the grammar school, that I used to fancy, are on NSC, but I don’t know their alias
De Bello Gallico.Mr Ross was great, my favourite teacher really - he was also my form master for a year. Intelligent, passionate, amusing and fair (Ross, not me). Only he could make Caesar's Gallic Wars seem worth knowing at all.
Just realised I made a mistake in my post I meant to say I left in 1988 not 98 so we were there at the same time, obviously younger then me so I wasn’t going to talk youWe went to Hove Park (I left in 1989), but lived ‘at’ Blatchington Mill. In Frant Road, literally the last house, immediately next to the gates of the school.
A lovely description of Mr Ross there .De Bello Gallico.
"I'm not here to teach you facts. I'm here to teach you to think"
As he slid down in his chair, talking, eyes closed, till all you could see was the top of his head.
Never shouted. The class always silent. Visions of spears, fortifications and battle tactics in our minds.
Great days (some of the few, to be fair. The young religious Chemistry teacher, Chrone (?) hated me, and mocked my slovenly appearance, tie at half mast, and long hair (and attitude). After I got a A in chemistry O level, he blanked me for two years. That level of pettiness, snobbery and parsimony started my inexorable shift towards the left of the political spectrum. From each according to their abilities (and recognised for that). Talent should be spotted and nurtured. It's what I do now. Thanks, Chrone, you miserable ****. I won.
I left in July as you started in September.I went HCGS for girls, left 1970,after A levels. I wonder how many of the boys from the grammar school, that I used to fancy, are on NSC, but I don’t know their alias
Chrone (Krohn?) absolutely recognised talent when he saw it. He picked me for the school cricket team and I never looked back!De Bello Gallico.
"I'm not here to teach you facts. I'm here to teach you to think"
As he slid down in his chair, talking, eyes closed, till all you could see was the top of his head.
Never shouted. The class always silent. Visions of spears, fortifications and battle tactics in our minds.
Great days (some of the few, to be fair. The young religious Chemistry teacher, Chrone (?) hated me, and mocked my slovenly appearance, tie at half mast, and long hair (and attitude). After I got a A in chemistry O level, he blanked me for two years. That level of pettiness, snobbery and parsimony started my inexorable shift towards the left of the political spectrum. From each according to their abilities (and recognised for that). Talent should be spotted and nurtured. It's what I do now. Thanks, Chrone, you miserable ****. I won.
Ross was the only person who could have dragged me kicking and screaming through Latin o-level. I think the class bought him a silver tankard (or something similar - it was a long time ago) at the end of the year in recognition of his teaching - we wouldn't have done it for anyone else.Yes, on reflection he was alright. Ross was the Latin God, though. Brilliant teacher.
That depends if you stayed for the 6th form…Just realised I made a mistake in my post I meant to say I left in 1988 not 98 so we were there at the same time, obviously younger then me so I wasn’t going to talk you