My Memories - By John Newman,  1968 - 1973

Dear Kings Norton (Grammar - as it was) School for Boys,

 The school has long stood in my memory as a testament to failed chances and wasted time.  I must stress that these sentiments are a consequence of my own lack of effort and the "must try harder - can do better" world into which my teenage years descended.  However, time has a habit of softening the most bitter memories and I can now look back at the years between 1968 and 1973 more objectively.  So let me begin ....

 It all started with the 11 plus exam ... or did it?  My father was born in Ashmore Road, Cotteridge, in 1914 and attended a relatively new Grammar School at the time - Kings Norton Grammar School.  He was very proud of this association, albeit his academic achievement would not launch him into a world of high pecuniary reward and public recognition.  However, his time at the school did affect his son's three choices of school - post 11+ exam - many years later.

 Acceptance into KNGS was greeted with great delight within our household.  I was not a willing participant in this celebration.  The imposing red brick building which dominates Northfield Road filled me with foreboding.  It's George V exterior exuded an atmosphere of impending suffering and torment to which I was an unwilling offering.  Clothed in a belted gabardine "mac", long trousers (my first school pair and a hard fought battle to have these it was too!), a woolly blazer two sizes too big and a school cap stuffed into my mac pocket (I refused to wear the horrible thing), I fearfully approached my fate.

 The inside of the school compounded the exterior impression. A living museum to Birmingham industrial might.  Dark wood and wrought iron, shinny pastel paint, white ink-wells in desks on ski's, fierce looking gentlemen in black flowing gowns clicking with studded heels down cold tiled floors, grease-proof toilet paper and cracked carbolic soap.  This was a scene from a Charles Dickens novel and I was entering the work house!

 Upon reflection, the school offered - and probably still does - a first class education.  It was an offer that I refused.  The one thing that sticks in my mind like gum to the seat of your trousers, is my class register.  This oratory was religiously recited twice a day for most of my time at KNGS.  The names tumble back through my memory, consciously unbidden, whenever school is mentioned in conversation.   "Adams, Blagg, Cartland, Cole, Daxter, Dodds, Fergus, Fewtrell, Gething, Hussey, Jennings, Kemp, Lane, Mathews, Meadows, Moran, Newman, Osborne, Phoenix, Quinton, Rogers, Smith, Thornton, Weir and Wilkinson".  Greetings to you all (should you ever see this).  I hope your time at KNGS laid a firm foundation for future success.

 The names of teachers are easier to recall than the subject matter they diligently tried to impart.  "Fingers" Bailey (Geography), "Fred" Vane (Biology), "Howard" Stockley (Physics), "Cecil" Hartley (Music), "Wotten breath" Mr Watton (Art), "Mongy" Jack (Latin), "Pick Nose" Osborne (French), "Kipper" (French), "Creeping Jesus" Harry Whiteman (Latin and RE), "Mal" Burgess (PE), "Daddy" Cole (TD), "Jonnie" Roe (Woodwork), "Taff" Jones (Ancient History and Latin) and others who slip my mind for the moment.  Gentlemen - thank you.  You implanted in me a vision of "what should have been" had my attitude and motivation been different.  A vision that is fortunately finding reality in my own children.

 My own experience of KNGS was not pleasant or successful but it was influential.  May it continue to influence many more generations in a positive and enjoyable fashion.

 Yours sincerely,

 John Newman, Saudi Arabia,  j-snewman@awalnet.net.sa