Author: Mike Spicer

My years at Winbury were a little after those who I met at the wonderful reunion in March 2012 but, by my reckoning, I attended the school for a longer time span than anyone else as, along with three others, we completed our secondary education there to the age of fifteen . I then left to enter the motor trade and my three compatriots all went straight into their family businesses. Perhaps it is a testament to the school to say to this day, some forty-five years later, I have never lost contact with these three and two more who live, one in New Zealand, one in Mexico. One set me up in my own business, two I have shared a house with and one of these I was best man to and another was my best man; all these events many years after we left the school. “How’s that!” as John Spicer would say!

These five aside, I always hoped I might meet more old boys but, despite always living in the same area, it never seemed to happen. So it was with much excitement that I arranged to meet Mike Chapman (one of the two founders of ‘Winbury Old Boys’) in my local for lunch last year. Although I recognized Mike from a picture I knew he would not realize who I was as we had never before met. So, as I introduced myself saying we have never met he retorted with “Well, that’s where you are wrong.” Mike went on to explain that my parents were actually living at Winbury when I was born at the nearby Canadian Red Cross Hospital, and returned to the school after a few days, an event which Mike and some of the other boarders apparently remember. We later moved to No. 1 West Road, which was the house next door but one to the school. So, I never had far to walk!

After attending Elmersley School from 1957-59 it was with great excitement that I started at Winbury at the start of the autumn term September 1959. My elder half-brother Jeremy Barrett had been there since the early fifties and the fact that John was my favourite uncle (largely because he had a nice dog) was the headmaster meant I felt that I knew the ropes and was not in the least apprehensive. My first teacher was Mrs Hankey who taught us in one classroom for all lessons with an endearing compassion which made us all feel very much at ease in a great variety of subjects from sewing on a button, which is quite something for a six year old, to nature study, which involved a number of field trips to Kidwells Park, and asking us to pick up any road kill we might find on the side of the road to feed her pet tawny owl that she kept at home. Shamefully, I never obliged.

Moving up through the years subsequent classes never seemed as much fun, indeed those formative years would be indicative of my adult life; it soon became clear I was, unfortunately, no academic. My sports and theatrical performances were decidedly average, but the highlight of my year, even above birthdays and Christmas, was the school sports day. John had stopped using Stafferton Lodge and instead bought two fields in Bray, where he had a pavilion built. These proved an excellent sports venue, indeed in the sixties the school sports day seemed a little like Royal Ascot with many mums donning large hats etc. A decent tea was provided in the pavilion for parents only. Lemonade and currant buns were provided for the boys outside. Sports Day was my ‘forte’ being the fastest runner in my year for many years. I well remember being put in the senior relay when I was a junior as I was faster than some of the seniors and Mickie Farrell yelling out of the PA system as I came up behind a much larger boy on the final corner in front of the entire school and all of the parents “Come on Noddy!” (this nickname was my only name. Few people I remember actually knew my real name). Halcyon days!

But then tragedy; over the Easter holidays of 1964, my mother died. She hadn’t been ill, there was no warning, the main person in my life was gone. All of a sudden John, together with mum’s brother-in-law, Leslie Dundas (who had previously taught at the school) and his wife Vivienne and my grandmother (on my mother’s side) had a much larger hand in my upbringing. Dad was occupied doing his best to attend to the needs of my heavily handicapped brother, Richard.

But, back after the ‘hols’ into the comfortable and secure routine, Winbury helped take my mind off other things apart from French homework. I seemed to be in constant fear of Mrs Hamersley again asking for French homework.

As most of my pals passed their eleven plus, which I, of course, failed, they went off to secondary school including my best friend Andrew Collins who went to Dover College. Andy still comes to see me and the family when coming home from New Zealand.

I well remember one summer term John announcing one assembly he wanted all boys aged 8 and over to bring in their bicycles the following Thursday. Well it seemed almost the entire school but in reality maybe 40 odd boys brought in their bikes. Now, John didn’t have a bike so I remember he borrowed one from an American lad which was a rather flamboyant American machine with cow horn handlebars. The memory of John - bulky figure, neck tie around his waist, sleeves rolled up leading 40 boys over the top of Winter Hill, which is 6 odd miles from the school still makes me laugh to this day.

During this period we used the swimming pool at Highfield School at the other end of West Road. During one of these swimming sessions one boy got into trouble. In the blink of an eye a fully clothed John had dived in, the boy was saved and all the other boys were highly impressed. But this was John – he really did love his chosen occupation.

On another occasion on a bitterly cold winter morning at play time he noticed the boys who, remember were not allowed to stay indoors, were absolutely freezing so he ordered cook to make, in her biggest pan, several gallons of hot cocoa which he served from the dining room window. I remember she was cursing as she wanted to get on with the lunches but, of course, the boys thought it was marvellous!

Obviously there are many other things I can remember but that would just duplicate the memories of all reading this in all probability. But what I really wanted to say is something Mike Chapman touched upon in his memories of Winbury when he returned to see John in the seventies after he had sold the school. He found the headmaster ‘lost and lonely’. With the utmost respect to ‘Sir’, away from school he had really always been a bit like that but what he really passionately enthused over was his ‘boys’, in particular ‘old boys’ which he constantly spoke of as many of you will remember. John would proudly parade old boys returning to the school during the working day, from class to class. Then it would be lunch at the staff table (hopefully it wasn’t the same food as we were eating). This became ‘de rigeur’ and of course all of the current boys realized that if these guys came back ten and twenty years after they left they must have liked it. This increased John’s creation of a terrific feeling of security and enjoyment for boys at school; how many schools can really match that?

Later in life my school running did stand me in good stead. Between marriages I joined the local running club, became a reasonable club runner competing in well over a hundred running races, eventually becoming men’s captain. Now, at this time they had a rather nice ladies’ captain – Barbara and I were married on Valentine’s Day ’98 and shortly after along came our son Joe who most of you met dressed in Winbury uniform at the 2012 reunion. By the way, at fourteen Joe can run and cycle faster than me now. Joe’s arrival stopped me running but this was replaced by motor racing where I am just completing my fourteenth season of UK Ferrari hillclimb championships. It occurred to me that without those years at Winbury perhaps none of this would have happened!

Mike Spicer - 28/08/2012