How I got to Grammar School

Now we are starting to get to some proper memories. Because of Mum and Dad’s jobs, it was always the job of other children in the street to see me to school until I was old enough to do that myself. Eardley Road Primary led to Eardley Road Junior – a school which still exists. I have to say that my memories of those early years are very sparse because I was not a great one for School. My interests always seemed to lay elsewhere in hobbies etc. However there are a few events that are clear in my memory. 

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The hanging of Derek Bentley. This was a famous case where a policeman was shot by Chris Craig, who because he was under age didn’t get a death sentence even though he pulled the trigger. His partner, Derek Bentley is reputed to have shouted ‘Let him have it Chris’ or similar. As he was of age, he was sentenced to death. None of this is anything to do with my life except that I remember walking to school on the day of the hanging and discussing it with my friends.

All along Fallsbrook Road on the way to school, the gardens had low walls around them. I could walk nearly the whole length of the road without touching the pavement!

Practising for the school sports, I and a friend (I think David Usher because he lived in Credenhill Street which was on the way from my house to school) entered the three-legged race. We spent every morning, lunch and evening running the length of the route home in three-legged mode. Unfortunately, I can’t remember where we came in the race – actually, I can’t even remember the race.

I appeared in the High Court in The Strand as a witness when I was around 7 years old. I remember my Dad taking me to the court. I can also remember that the Lord Chief Justice was the judge. The case was all about a lad in our street who had jumped onto the back of a Wates furniture van that was parked near our school. The tailgate wasn’t properly fastened and he fell badly to the ground and, I think, broke a leg. The parents sued Wates (they owned a large furniture store near to the school) and thus we all traipsed into court. My Dad intervened when I was called and explained my age so I didn’t have to give evidence. I believe that the case was thrown out – some difference to nowadays where the parents would have been awarded a large sum in compensation.

Don’t run after eating a Banana – my Mum was insistent that physical exercise within 30 minutes of eating a banana was tantamount to instant death. I used to go home for lunch most days and on one day, I had a banana for my lunch. I realised I was late for school so ran all of the way back. Once there, I remembered Mum’s entreaty and was convinced that some time that afternoon, I was to die!

I was what they call nowadays – a latchkey kid. From about the age of 7 I had a front door key and would let myself in after school as Mum would be at work. At this time, she was working in the Cafe on Mitcham Lane and used to bring me home a treat of a Blue Riband bar. I still get them in my lunch pack nowadays. Around that time they removed sweet rationing, which had been in force during the war. I remember being able to buy a stick of bubble gum without a ration coupon. In latter years, Dad would give me some money each week to go to the sweet shop and stock up on sweets for the week. Maltesers and Merry Maid chocolate toffees were my favourites.

At school, I did my usual and just fiddled along. I have never been particularly keen on sports and my attention span, if I have no real interest, is short to say the least. Hence, I never really stood out. I did make prefect – but my job was managing one of the cloakrooms both morning and night. I always seem to be able to grasp enough to muddle along and my ability in Maths is greater than most so I tended to get by. 

With a mixed school, I had friends of both sexes but can only remember the names of a few of them – John Hardy, David Usher, Susan Dilly, Chris Cripps are the only names that come back to me now. The two other boys that went on to the same school as me were never my friends so there as no real continuity there.

In the playground games were much more vigorous. Being in short trousers, the joys of picking scabs off the knee is something that modern children will never get to enjoy. I remember one game which involved throwing a tennis ball across the width of the playground over everyone else’s heads – we called ‘bunging in goals’ 

My best friend didn’t go to my school but did live in my road. Now, roads in those days were very quiet places. I don’t think that anyone owned a car in my street when I was below 11 years of age. There was little through traffic and the only real thing you had to avoid was the baker’s horse and cart. There was also no fear of letting you child out to play. 

Hence we played:

·         Cricket using one of the lamp posts as a wicket.

·         A form of football where each of us had a goal. This goal was the short bit of fence between to adjacent gates so the game could accommodate many players. Choosing which goal to go for had more to do with like or dislike rather than the opponent’s skill.

·         Tennis up and down the road

·         Flying paper aeroplanes. Mum’s women’s magazines were the best for this. They were a large sheet and firm glossy paper. No messing around with darts for us – real folder flying aeroplanes.

·         Fishing – well putting a ledger on the end of a line and practicing casting up the road.

When the football became serious, we would move to the bottom of the road where there were a whole series of lock up garages in blocks of about 20. Each of these had an entrance and was self contained so we could play a serious game of football there. The last garage block in the row was built in a circle so you could go round and round. We used to race scooters etc. there.

Our last two serious enjoyments are both of that period and would be impossible today. Firstly, we would go round to the Forge (a working forge at that time), clamber down the side of it so that we could play on the railway embankment. No-one ever thought that we would get too close and it was never suggested that we shouldn’t do this! 

Secondly, in Eastwood Street there was something that we called ‘The Wood Yard’. It was actually a place that repaired wooden beer crates and returned them to use. The place was full of piles of crates. We used to get in after they closed and burrow into the piles and make camps. What the workers made of hollowed out crate piles, we never knew or minded. It never occurred to us that the piles might collapse – neither did it to our parents as we were never warned off. There were two benefits of this being there. One was that there was always a supply of scrap timber and also a supply of beer bottle tops. The barmen used to take to top of the bottle in the crate and let the top fall to the bottom. None of this namby pamby chilled stuff in those days. 

The wood and the bottle tops came in very useful: Homemade scooters and what we now call go-carts – we used to scrounge a couple of wheels and some nails and use the scrap to make a scooter. The shiny bottle tops were nailed all over in decoration. At the top end of our road there was a steep hill down past the shops so that was ideal for nearly killing ourselves as we came off onto the road at the bottom in a go-cart that had little effective steering and no brakes!

I remember playing with upwards of 10 kids in the street but my special friend was Keith Deadman who lived on the other side of the road much further down. As mentioned earlier, he went to the Penwortham Junior School but somehow we hit it off. His relations came from Wallsend in’Geordie’ country and their accents were really strong. 

The 1953 Coronation was a high point at that time. We didn’t have a TV so we went to the house of someone who did. Other side of the road and about 20 houses down but I can’t remember their name. As a result of missing that Coronation, Dad took me to The Radio Show, that was on each year at Earls Court. He chose a Cosser TV that was ITV ready. I seem to remember that we had a lot of trouble with this TV. We did vist The Radio Show every year for a while. In the process of our fist visit Dad acquired a Cosser notepad. This didn’t seem to important until some year later he gave it to me full of the autographs of many of the top cricketers. It seems that his work (still at Newington Causeway at that time) had some nets in the top floor and all of the major touring teams, including the Australians used to go there to practice. I still have that notepad!

Back to school for now. I can only remember two of my teacher's names – Mr Howes who I had in the fourth year. The previous year I had an Australian - Mr. Shepherd. He did, however, teach me the proper name for a Duck Billed Platypus – Ornithorhynchus – although I have to admit to checking that on Google just now. I also played harmonica in the class band - our best tune was 'Under the bridges of Paris' where I did the oompah bass.

Needless to say, I scraped through my 11 plus and hence was off to Grammar School. Now this is how you get your son into the best (and one of the oldest) grammar schools in south London. 

1. Have a brother that went there
2. Have a father that went to the same school as the headmaster.