12 minute read
OR Memories
It’s good to take a trip down memory lane…
Jonathan West (Bristowe 1971)
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The invitation to Reunion Day and the notification of the death of John Leach earlier in the year brought back a few memories which I wanted to share. John Leach was Assistant Housemaster of Bristowe, my piano teacher and a very kind man with whom we kept in touch for a while after he left Reed’s.
I left Reed’s in 1971 at the age of 19 having been School Captain for the Autumn Term and Head of Bristowe for the previous year. On leaving, I was the oldest boy in the school and, since I was the second youngest when I joined as a Foundationer boarding in The Close, it’s possible I may have some sort of record as the slowest developer in the School’s history! The then head, Robert Drayson, put me straight into the Third Form as I’d gained a scholarship but I performed miserably in a class who were all at least a year older, but did a little better when kept back a year.
One of the most significant things that happened was a surprise call with a small group of fellow pupils to the study of the Head of Music, John Smith. He asked each of us to indicate which musical instrument we would like to take up for a free trial term of lessons. With no time to think about it, I opted for a brass instrument I had seen in comics that starts in front, coils all the way around and ends up behind you. I mistakenly thought it was called a trombone (later I learned it was a sousaphone) but was reasonably satisfied when presented with something just as shiny with a long slide. My teacher was Laurie Monk who was principal trombonist of the BBC Symphony Orchestra and was unfailingly positive! As luck would have it, the Surrey Youth Orchestra was looking for trombonists. After an audition I was sponsored by Surrey County Council as a Junior Exhibitioner to have music lessons at the Royal Academy of Music on Saturday mornings. This meant I was able to get away with travel expenses paid to London every week and also to Guildford for Surrey Youth Orchestra rehearsals every Sunday.
I didn’t shine academically and had quite poor O Level results. Things took a turn for the better in the Sixth Form. Having lost my way somewhat, the School sent me to an experimental careers advisory day in London where I completed a series of tests and interviews. A career in medicine/surgery was (unexpectedly for me) suggested and I switched subjects to Biology, Physics and Chemistry. I was lucky that this coincided with the start of Howard Robinson’s teaching career at the School since I went on to get a distinction in the ‘Special’ paper at A Level Biology.
The change of subjects and a new direction brought with it a new attitude on my part and I threw myself into every opportunity that came my way. Bristowe, in particular, hadn’t won any inter-house competitions for so many years that Rodney Exton suggested that our motto should be: ‘Never run when you can walk. Never walk when you can sit down. Never sit down when you can lie down!’
In my first Sixth Form year, I was made House Captain of Music and, when Bristowe won its first cup since Basil Green had become Housemaster, I had never seen anyone look so happy and was made a prefect on the spot. Other opportunities, such as being offered the lead in the school play (Ross by Terence Rattigan) and becoming, captain of athletics and cross-country. With some decent A Level results, I earned a place at St John’s College Cambridge to study medicine. Two others from Bristowe (Andy Cairns and Barry Auld) subsequently followed this identical route.
I went on to have quite a conventional medical career training in Obstetrics & Gynaecology at the John Radcliffe Hospital, Oxford. In 1990, I was appointed as a consultant in O&G with a special interest in helping infertile couples at the Royal Devon & Exeter Hospital. I was fortunate to be involved in the development of various keyhole surgery techniques; was a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons of England; a teacher and examiner for the Royal College of Obstetricians & Gynaecologists; a member of the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority’s Licensed Centres’ Panel and founded the Peninsular Centre for Reproductive Medicine, which was the first IVF Clinic in the south-west of England.
Now retired, and still happily married after 42 years with two children and one grandchild, I would hesitate to give any advice. If pressed, I would say to teachers (as someone who has taught many medical students and trainee doctors) that despite every effort in the interests of equality to take the teacher out of teaching, this can’t be done. It’s contrary to human nature. I have been gratified by believing in, giving opportunities to and teaching many budding medics, several of whom were initially thought not to be up to the task by colleagues. I would tell students to try to believe in themselves even if it seems irrational and unwarranted at times, to seek out and take every opportunity that comes your way, to believe you can do it, and to hope that you have the good fortune to have someone who believes in and supports you against all expectations. However, you also need a bit of extra luck as well. I sometimes wonder how things would have turned out if the School had had a sousaphone!
From Oxshott to Charlottetown Peter Yates (Capel 1968)
Back in 1966, the Derby was run on a Wednesday. An excited Paul Whelan (Bristowe 1968) accosted me in the ‘Noticeboard Room’ with a letter just received from his Dad in Canada. It was post-marked ‘Charlottetown’.
‘A horse called Charlottetown is running in the Derby!’ announced Paul.
‘It’s a sign’ I said. ‘It’s obviously gonna win!’
‘We must go!’ Paul exclaimed.
So we bunked off games. Hitched to Epsom. And five (yes, five) lifts later we were climbing over the fence, running past the fun-fair and making for the rails just past Tattenham Corner in the straight. We were late, but the start has been delayed so we stared wide-eyed as Charlottetown led the field past us and on to a famous victory. We had a fantastic view and, having only watched racing on TV, I hadn’t realised you got spattered with mud as the horses raced past. All-in-all a great day out!
We hitched back (one lift!). Missed tea and got a ‘Blue’. They were a long sheet of lined blue paper which were handed out by Prefects. They sheets had to be filled with writing; 10 words a line minimum. As a Third Former, I once copied out from a book about the South Downs which started with the words ‘The village of Clayton…’ I double-inked those words to make them stand out because the prefect who gave me the Blue was called Clayton. I thought I was being very clever. I got another Blue for my troubles!
After O Levels, Paul and I travelled to Swanage (nice – but not quite Magaluf) and watched the World Cup in Mrs Bomfield’s sitting room (B&B without the Air.) After Sixth Form, Paul and I went our separate ways and lost touch until mutual friend, Mike Ransome (Mullens1968), with whom I had kept in regular contact since School, met Paul at the 1968 Gaudy resulting in us having a reunion lunch at Tattons in Covent Garden. He’d been dining out on the Derby story all those 50 years and had never mentioned me – the cad. Our latest haunt is The Mudlark on the Thames next to Borough Market though circumstances have prevented meeting for a while.
OR MEMORIES
Memories of Frank Anstis Munawar Ali Khan (Capel 1966)
It was when I progressed to Fifth Form science that I came under the tutelage of Frank Anstis as our Physics teacher. It was here we came to know each other; an association which was to remain through the Lower & Upper Sixth Form years, right up to the time I left School.
I became a member of the Science and Astronomy Clubs, eventually running the latter & co-running the former. As Frank was the ‘Chairman’, I was able to spend more time with him discussing and planning the termly programmes for these clubs; this was in a more relaxed non-academic atmosphere, so, I would say, I came to know him better than my other mentors. Although group trips out would often give rise to conversations far removed from institutional restriction, an easy flow of casual wit between him and our entire group.
More than half a century on, while going through the Reeder, I came to know that Frank had settled in the West Country, taking up painting as a pastime, having been semi-tutored by a past Reed’s art teacher, Mr Pickersgill. My association with the latter was through the various School plays he produced; also, perhaps, peripherally with the photography club.
Learning of Frank’s interest in painting, I forwarded an article from a scientific magazine to Sharmaine, regarding a lady artist who uses concepts and discoveries found in Physics as the basis for her artwork. Very kindly Sharmaine forwarded my mail to Frank, which – at last – led to the incredible revival of our networking after a gap of 55 years.
Tony Rigg (Mullens 1951)
My father, Lt Cpl James Rigg RAMC, died at Dunkirk in May 1940, meaning that three of us, sister Sheila (aged seven), brother Howard (aged two) and I (aged five) had lost our beloved parent.
Applications for us to be pupils at Reed’s School were made with the assistance of my godfather, who had connections with the City of London. In February 1943, Sheila was accepted to attend at Greens Norton and subsequently moved to Dogmersfield and I was accepted to Tile House. Our mother found it hard to send her children away, especially to different locations from different train stations all on the same day with the return from holiday being no easier. However, she did very well.
The change from home to boarding was hard to start with but this soon became easier as we were in the company of many other children who were in the same situation. Many friendships were made and teamwork helped us to get through everything that came our way. Tile House was a mansion house with a large garden which was our play area. We had bedrooms on the first floor and meals were eaten in the dining room on the ground floor. I cannot remember where we had our lessons but we had the senior girls help look after us as well as the staff.
I was moved to Totnes in early 1945, where things were different as I was now with the senior boys. This was my home until Reed’s arrived at Cobham in 1946 where all pupils came together. That year Howard also joined in The Close at the age of seven. A lot of detail has been written about Tile House and Totnes in various Reeder magazines as have the changes about the Girls’ School bringing them all back to a permanent location at Dogmersfield Park.
I owe a lot to Reed’s for giving me such a sound education and confidence to live a good life. Taking part in Cubs, Scouts and Cadets was great, helping to show us different ways of doing things. Sport required good teamwork and brought out the best in all of us. I enjoyed rugby most with my school report often making the comment that if I did as well with my schooling as I did with rugby, I would be a first-class scholar. In my last year at school 1951, I was made a prefect to look after the juniors in the Close, walking them up to the main school for meals; this gave me confidence to accept responsibility which was a great help in later life.
One other piece of invaluable advice was given to me by the Headmaster, Mr Axton, in my last term at School when he called me into his study. He counselled that when called for an interview, you create an impression as soon as you enter a room so always have a firm handshake, introduce yourself and keep eye contact; do not try to answer a question to which you do not know the answer and, at the end of the interview, shake hands and give thanks to those that called the interview. This advice most definitely helped me in my working life.
Each of my siblings moved on from School to do well: Sheila left in 1949 to a job in the City. She married and had two daughters but sadly she has died. Howard left in 1954 to also work in the City and married; his a son, Christopher, joined Reed’s 1983 and left in 1990.
I left to work on a farm and carried on playing rugby for the ORs until 1954 when I was called up to do National Service with the Army. I trained to be a radar operator and spent 18 months in Hong Kong, leaving in February 1956 having managed to play rugby for the Regiment.
On my return, I went back to work on the farm and, during this period, married my lovely wife, Maureen in 1959. Rugby continued with the ORs until 1961, when our son, Simon, was born. I have good memories of everyone I played with, including one OR, John Alvey (Blathwayt 1940), who was the first team captain and became a director of British Telecom. Farm life also came to an end in 1961 when I joined the GPO telephone service. The days were spent working and the evenings at ‘night school’ to obtain a City & Guilds qualification in telephony. This training, with the support and backing from Maureen, helped me through 35 years with the company in different departments and several promotions into management.
Maureen and I have two children and celebrated 61 years of wonderful marriage which sadly ended when she passed away in May 2020, a great loss to all of us. It is the family (including four grandchildren – all girls – and four great grandsons) that has kept me going.
