Susan Worsey's memories.
click photo to go to my website.
Hi folks,
This weather reminds me of my time at Regis Comprehensive, from September, 1962 - May, 1966, the year we won the World Cup; a good year for sport. I used to have fun in the snow, no staying away from school like they do these days. We used to walk to school when the school bus couldn't get through. Sir Godfrey Cretney was so kind to us when we turned up at 11.am, a good 2 hours late. He gave the order to open up the kitchens and to give us a hot meal and drinks before sending us back home. Yes life at Regis had its ups & downs, but we had the best headmaster before Cancer cruelly Took him from us.
I was once told that i would never find work, in fact i worked for many years until i was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. Even then, i did not let this keep me down, after the initial shock i took up voluntary work in such places as the Compton hospice and the p.a.w.s Animal charity shop in Castlecroft. As for me, i had wonderful friends, some i'm still in contact with via email.
Regis Revisited
(A poem by Susan Worsey).
One September morn back in '62
The old school bus took us to school.
For some who can recall, having to
Push the bus up the Holloway -
For it had as much power as an old battery.
.
The staff, lead by Sir Godfrey Cretney
Were waiting to catch out any offender.
There's Mr. McGregor - a smoker of repute
No pupil was safe when he was around
When taking a quick ciggie behind the bike sheds.
There was Mr. Holmes who was
keen to point out the right tie & scarf
if you were out and about.
Misdemeanors were met with a most
terrifying word: 'Detention my lad!'
not another sound.
There was Mr. English who taught music
Malcolm Marples who sang in the choir.
Miss Jacombs taught maths,
And Ivor Wilkinson - Art & Crafts.
There was Mrs. Bills
Two Mr. Hills and two Miss Bennetts.
Heather Nock, Mr. Norton, Mr. Lister to boot.
Mr. Palin who taught English,
Mr. Christie too.
Then there was Anita Longsborough - olympic champion - she taught some how to swim.
These teachers will go down in folklore
To name them all I haven't the space,
So log on to our website and give us a taste.
Copyright Susan Worsey
This weather reminds me of my time at Regis Comprehensive, from September, 1962 - May, 1966, the year we won the World Cup; a good year for sport. I used to have fun in the snow, no staying away from school like they do these days. We used to walk to school when the school bus couldn't get through. Sir Godfrey Cretney was so kind to us when we turned up at 11.am, a good 2 hours late. He gave the order to open up the kitchens and to give us a hot meal and drinks before sending us back home. Yes life at Regis had its ups & downs, but we had the best headmaster before Cancer cruelly Took him from us.
I was once told that i would never find work, in fact i worked for many years until i was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. Even then, i did not let this keep me down, after the initial shock i took up voluntary work in such places as the Compton hospice and the p.a.w.s Animal charity shop in Castlecroft. As for me, i had wonderful friends, some i'm still in contact with via email.
Regis Revisited
(A poem by Susan Worsey).
One September morn back in '62
The old school bus took us to school.
For some who can recall, having to
Push the bus up the Holloway -
For it had as much power as an old battery.
.
The staff, lead by Sir Godfrey Cretney
Were waiting to catch out any offender.
There's Mr. McGregor - a smoker of repute
No pupil was safe when he was around
When taking a quick ciggie behind the bike sheds.
There was Mr. Holmes who was
keen to point out the right tie & scarf
if you were out and about.
Misdemeanors were met with a most
terrifying word: 'Detention my lad!'
not another sound.
There was Mr. English who taught music
Malcolm Marples who sang in the choir.
Miss Jacombs taught maths,
And Ivor Wilkinson - Art & Crafts.
There was Mrs. Bills
Two Mr. Hills and two Miss Bennetts.
Heather Nock, Mr. Norton, Mr. Lister to boot.
Mr. Palin who taught English,
Mr. Christie too.
Then there was Anita Longsborough - olympic champion - she taught some how to swim.
These teachers will go down in folklore
To name them all I haven't the space,
So log on to our website and give us a taste.
Copyright Susan Worsey
Frank Batkins memories
click photo to go to Franks
memories of Penn, Castlecroft
and Regis.
Frank Batkins Memories
Oh so many memories of Regis. Pushing school busses up the Holloway, The annual cross country run, detention.
Bullying, Malcolm Marples, school choir, Mr Devy's rambling club. Perhaps the one thing that really sticks out in my mind was a comment made to me by a teacher that (A) i would never get a job and (B) even if by some miracle i did, i would not keep it. Well Mr Norton (D), not only did i get a job but i worked for the same company for 42 years until i retired. Following retirement my wife obtained a position in the USA so we sold up and moved across the Atlantic to Coatesville, Indiana, a small predominantly farming community to the west of the state capital of Indianapolis.
I cannot, in all honesty say i loved everything about Regis, i suffered some bullying from both certain staff and certain pupils although i dealt with it in my own way as i have dealt with my deafness through the years. To this day i do not think most of it was done for any nasty reason, it's just that the perpetrators simply did not understand. Some aspects of school life such as the dress code, left me with an inferiority complex, coming from a poor family my parents found it very hard to keep me kitted out and there was an air of superiority from certain pupils whose families were obviously much better off and could afford second uniforms etc. For this reason i am in two minds about school dress codes. One thing i can say i enjoyed were school dinners, anyone remember concrete and pink custard? The only day there were chips served was on a friday with fish. Funny but the decline in standards seems to go hand in hand with the decline in school dinners. We were never served turkey twizzlers or anything like it, our meals were wholesome, nourishing and for the most part very tasty and made in the school. I can still see those large jugs of hot custard, the bread and butter pudding and the large aluminium trays of stew. Does anyone else remember warming crates of school milk on the radiators? This was ok until someone failed to remove them if not drunk. It did not take long for them to begin to turn green. Conversely if they were left outside in the snow the milk would soon turn to ice leaving a one inch gap between the bottle and the aluminium cap. Also the House assemblies, in my case Trent the science block became the hall and we all stood in the corridors whilst Mr Coomber lead assembly. I hated, and still do, maths. Despite almost super human attempts by Olive Jacombs to instill some semblance of maths into my head, i just could not take it in. So much so i used to skive off for almost any reason when maths was on the timetable. Trainspotting was far more fun. Besides this i had another problem, following meningitis i was found to be partially deaf. The powers to be had long insisted i wore a hearing aid and it got to the point at Regis where i simply would no longer use it. Mr Norton used to think it was great fun in class to tap the aid and ask me if i was "tuned in". I got so fed up with him i stopped using it. I later turned it into a radio by adding a few small components. The radio worked well but needed an antenna so after i got hold of some fine wire i rigged a portable antenna on top of one of the shelves in the library. It worked well as all i had to do was clip the antenna to the aid for it to work. I used to listen when i had free periods. I never recovered the antenna so it must have still been there when the library was converted into a staff room. Shades of stalag xiii lol.
Getting away with things
I was not built for sports i either did not enjoy it or simply didn't understand the rules so i had to think of a way out. I knew that the only way out of sport was either something extremely painful such a a leg in plaster or a letter from your parents saying you had some extremely nasty, virulent or simply god awful complaint. Now this letter had to be believable so i came up with the idea of inserting spelling mistakes. This would cause the teacher to question the letter to the extent of asking you to spell the errant words. Of course once you spelt them correctly they had to believe the letter, games over. Sports teachers must have thought my parents were very ignorant.
School busses.
As previously stated, the school bus run was a bit of a joke. The driver was ok, he was locked in his cab, safe from the hands of unruly urchins like us, however the clippies were a different matter. They formed two groups, the kind ones and the Wolverhampton corporation transport (WCT) branch of the Waffen SS. They were always on the lookout for errant teenagers trying to dodge the fare. To this end several ploys were employed including chewing a ticket from the day before as they would never want to handle it to check it closely and hiding between bags, between the seats. Both of these methods worked (sorry WCT i owe you at least 1 shilling and 6 pence). The busses themselves were a joke, the corporation had a batch of very old Guy motors busses that in any other situation would have gone to the bus stop in the sky years before but which were kept for the boroughs school runs. Most of the journey tended to be fairly uneventful if a little on the slow and shaky side, however if the driver did not pick up sufficient speed or the bus was slightly overloaded when it turned into the Holloway at Compton then it would grind to a halt somewhere near the old church hall that stood on the right as you went up. As pupils we were not really worried about been late, after all it was not our fault was it? Anyway once the bus stopped we generally used to pile out and either walk up the hill or push the bus if we were feeling energetic. Can you imagine the health and safety people today? they would be up in arms at the thought of teenagers pushing busses up the hill.
Woodwork & metalwork.
Does anyone else recall Dennis Devey's attempts to turn us into carpenters? I made the only rafia topped three legged footstool in existance, a guitar that bent double when tuned and other items about as useful as a chocolate teapot. The smell of horse glue or was it cascamite? used to linger in the wood work room. Mind you metalwork was no better situated in a temporary classroom behind Trent block, it used to smell of oil and other noxious fluids such as the stuff used to cool work down when grinding or cutting.
memories of Penn, Castlecroft
and Regis.
Frank Batkins Memories
Oh so many memories of Regis. Pushing school busses up the Holloway, The annual cross country run, detention.
Bullying, Malcolm Marples, school choir, Mr Devy's rambling club. Perhaps the one thing that really sticks out in my mind was a comment made to me by a teacher that (A) i would never get a job and (B) even if by some miracle i did, i would not keep it. Well Mr Norton (D), not only did i get a job but i worked for the same company for 42 years until i retired. Following retirement my wife obtained a position in the USA so we sold up and moved across the Atlantic to Coatesville, Indiana, a small predominantly farming community to the west of the state capital of Indianapolis.
I cannot, in all honesty say i loved everything about Regis, i suffered some bullying from both certain staff and certain pupils although i dealt with it in my own way as i have dealt with my deafness through the years. To this day i do not think most of it was done for any nasty reason, it's just that the perpetrators simply did not understand. Some aspects of school life such as the dress code, left me with an inferiority complex, coming from a poor family my parents found it very hard to keep me kitted out and there was an air of superiority from certain pupils whose families were obviously much better off and could afford second uniforms etc. For this reason i am in two minds about school dress codes. One thing i can say i enjoyed were school dinners, anyone remember concrete and pink custard? The only day there were chips served was on a friday with fish. Funny but the decline in standards seems to go hand in hand with the decline in school dinners. We were never served turkey twizzlers or anything like it, our meals were wholesome, nourishing and for the most part very tasty and made in the school. I can still see those large jugs of hot custard, the bread and butter pudding and the large aluminium trays of stew. Does anyone else remember warming crates of school milk on the radiators? This was ok until someone failed to remove them if not drunk. It did not take long for them to begin to turn green. Conversely if they were left outside in the snow the milk would soon turn to ice leaving a one inch gap between the bottle and the aluminium cap. Also the House assemblies, in my case Trent the science block became the hall and we all stood in the corridors whilst Mr Coomber lead assembly. I hated, and still do, maths. Despite almost super human attempts by Olive Jacombs to instill some semblance of maths into my head, i just could not take it in. So much so i used to skive off for almost any reason when maths was on the timetable. Trainspotting was far more fun. Besides this i had another problem, following meningitis i was found to be partially deaf. The powers to be had long insisted i wore a hearing aid and it got to the point at Regis where i simply would no longer use it. Mr Norton used to think it was great fun in class to tap the aid and ask me if i was "tuned in". I got so fed up with him i stopped using it. I later turned it into a radio by adding a few small components. The radio worked well but needed an antenna so after i got hold of some fine wire i rigged a portable antenna on top of one of the shelves in the library. It worked well as all i had to do was clip the antenna to the aid for it to work. I used to listen when i had free periods. I never recovered the antenna so it must have still been there when the library was converted into a staff room. Shades of stalag xiii lol.
Getting away with things
I was not built for sports i either did not enjoy it or simply didn't understand the rules so i had to think of a way out. I knew that the only way out of sport was either something extremely painful such a a leg in plaster or a letter from your parents saying you had some extremely nasty, virulent or simply god awful complaint. Now this letter had to be believable so i came up with the idea of inserting spelling mistakes. This would cause the teacher to question the letter to the extent of asking you to spell the errant words. Of course once you spelt them correctly they had to believe the letter, games over. Sports teachers must have thought my parents were very ignorant.
School busses.
As previously stated, the school bus run was a bit of a joke. The driver was ok, he was locked in his cab, safe from the hands of unruly urchins like us, however the clippies were a different matter. They formed two groups, the kind ones and the Wolverhampton corporation transport (WCT) branch of the Waffen SS. They were always on the lookout for errant teenagers trying to dodge the fare. To this end several ploys were employed including chewing a ticket from the day before as they would never want to handle it to check it closely and hiding between bags, between the seats. Both of these methods worked (sorry WCT i owe you at least 1 shilling and 6 pence). The busses themselves were a joke, the corporation had a batch of very old Guy motors busses that in any other situation would have gone to the bus stop in the sky years before but which were kept for the boroughs school runs. Most of the journey tended to be fairly uneventful if a little on the slow and shaky side, however if the driver did not pick up sufficient speed or the bus was slightly overloaded when it turned into the Holloway at Compton then it would grind to a halt somewhere near the old church hall that stood on the right as you went up. As pupils we were not really worried about been late, after all it was not our fault was it? Anyway once the bus stopped we generally used to pile out and either walk up the hill or push the bus if we were feeling energetic. Can you imagine the health and safety people today? they would be up in arms at the thought of teenagers pushing busses up the hill.
Woodwork & metalwork.
Does anyone else recall Dennis Devey's attempts to turn us into carpenters? I made the only rafia topped three legged footstool in existance, a guitar that bent double when tuned and other items about as useful as a chocolate teapot. The smell of horse glue or was it cascamite? used to linger in the wood work room. Mind you metalwork was no better situated in a temporary classroom behind Trent block, it used to smell of oil and other noxious fluids such as the stuff used to cool work down when grinding or cutting.
Ivor Beecheys memories (as told to Frank Batkin)
Ivor told me many stories before his untimely demise about his time at Regis (usually over a few pints in the Great Western). Amongst them was a story of Mr Macgregors office. Now Mac was renown for his no nonesense attitude towards anyone caught smoking tobacco (there was nothing much stronger at school in those days apart from the odd bottle of Woodpecker, no permissive society for us). Mac would remove the offending cigarette with one hand whilst striking the offender. The strange thing was though, as anyone who ever went in Macs office can testify, the air was always thick with tobacco smoke. Ivor once said you didn't need a ciggie, just go and see Mac in his office. Another one of Ivors stories was about Mr Christie. Mr Christie had seen many years of service with the Glasgow police before taking up teaching quite late in life. Ivor tells how he would often ask one of the girls in class to go to Mrs Walligora and ask "for a glass of water". As i said earlier i miss Ivor greatly, we would often sit over a pint or three in the Great western reminiscing over our school days, Wolverhampton as it was or other juicy gossip. Ivor was not the only Beechey to attend Regis, his elder brother Peter was in my year. Peter was a member of the footy team (see photo).