Last time I had just got into grammar school. It was one of those places where teachers and pupils (called students now!) all called you by your surname (last name), Grace (inclding the Latin benedictus) was said at lunchtime, there was a cane in the Head's office and discipline was kept by the Deputy Head, Roy McKenzie. Or rather he and his clones. It seemed that whenever trouble was about to occur anywhere, he would pop up out of the ground to put a stop to it. This uncanny knack (or were there really copies of him?) earned him the nickname 'Kenzoid.' There was also Norman 'Butch' Hadley who taught chemistry and is responsible for my path in life, and Dennis 'Griswold' Cooper who taught biology. I'm not sure how the latter came about, but it could be after the police dog in Top Cat or after Clark Griswold in National Lampoon.
I never showed much inclination for writing back then, although my first year English teacher did comment on my report that I was 'talented but lazy.' The place did have its share of ghastly things, like cross-country running, bullies, and Jeremy Smith - and arrogant braggart and Chelsea supporter - who lived next door to me, but it was also where I found my feet in the chess team and with some new friends. One of these was a black lad called Mark Gittens who not only was a better chess player than me, he was the most determined person I have ever met. He was driven to achieve something due to a poor background, and got into Dentistry which was a fantastic feat for him.
Next time: more about grammar school.
Jack Orchison, 7 January, 2014.
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