Mr. G. Sheen,  M.A.

Headmaster  1956 - 1970

WARWICK (DUTCH) HOLLAND (1955 - 1960)

I have many happy memories of my formative years at King's Norton and the many friends I made there. One of my clearest memories concerns Mr. Fawkes, the French teacher, more affectionately known as Fido. Sadly he is no longer with us. As a twelve year old in 1956 I was completely besotted with the 'new' Rock 'n' Roll music and the new young American actors who I used to watch avidly at my local cinema.  It was so easy to adopt the sullen pose and haunched shoulders to live out the fantasy.

I was brought down to earth by Fido. One day he ordered me to the front of the class with instructions to stand in the corner. He said to the rest of the class, 'Here we have a poor man's James Dean!'  My classmates were delighted.  Fond memories!

W. T. COOPER (1956 - 1963)

It was with some trepidation that a group of schoolboys gathered outside King's Norton Grammar School (as it was then) waiting for a coach that was going to take them on a holiday that would stick in the memory of all of them for the rest of their lives. Despite having attended the usual pre-holiday talks etc. few of them understood just what to expect on that holiday.

We had all talked about the Iron Curtain but none of us fully understood the social and economic implications of the phrase. The trip was organised by the late Maurice Burrows and such was his reputation, built up during a holiday to Switzerland two years earlier that there was soon a long waiting list to snap up any cancellations.

The journey to Prague where we were to spend our holiday was long and tiring to say the least. Thirty-six hours by road and rail was enough for anybody to stand, particularly as the continental trains in those days resembled cattle trucks. The journey I remember was broken at Nuremburg where I remember playing football on the platform at 4.00a.m.!  The train then proceeded to the Czech border where it was halted to allow guards carrying machine guns, to board the train and examine everyone's travelling documents most carefully, whilst their colleagues mounted guard in the watchtowers which followed the line of the boundary.

The hotel we stayed at in Prague was comfortable albeit a little spartan by today's standards. We were accompanied on our trips by a young guide who spoke English very well and was at great pains to explain all about life in Czechoslovakia.

Mr. Burrows had organised trips to places of interest, the most notable one was the devastated town of Revnice/Lidice which was razed to the ground by the Germans during the last War. I still have the train ticket dated 20th July 1963 which brings back memories of the awful feelings of death and destruction which hung in the air. A sure reminder to all of us of the futility of war and the effect it has on ordinary human beings.

We also had the opportunity to meet young Czechs taking part in sport. Mr. Burrows had organised a football match against a local youth team. I don't recall winning the match but we made a lot of new friends and were all presented with a red neckerchief, the emblem of Czechoslovakian Youth, together with a badge to be worn on the lapel of our coats.

We also had the opportunity of spending a day in Prague shopping in the main street. This was brought back to me very vividly when a few years later, Russian tanks were seen rolling down the same street to quell the Dubcek regime.

The weather, as I remember it, was hot and sunny, with occasional thunderstorms to clear the air in the late afternoon. (it may very well be that the memory only remembers the good days after 25 years!). One particularly hot afternoon was spent swimming in the river Voltava which runs through the centre of Prague. We had been playing in the water with a ball as boys will, when one boy found it too exhausting but luckily another boy, who had been having life-saving lessons during the school games periods, managed to put the training into effect and rescued the young lad. A good rest and he was soon back to normal again.

I know that Maurice Burrows' reputation for organising trips and holidays has certainly gone ahead of him over the years, and even in recent times it was a pleasure to be taking part in one such trip, albeit a day trip to Boulogne, which were organised down to the last detail and therefore enjoyed by everyone who went.



Taken from "The Eagle" 1987 Special Anniversary Edition.