Concordia

Concordia Winter 2021

49

Hilles House 1958

Amazingly, Jeff had taught when the school was still in Charterhouse Square. My other mentor from that time was Robert Blackburn. He was an inspirational teacher who had come to MTS to teach History but, somehow, found time to introduce a group of us to J.M. Synge’s wonderful play, The Playboy of the Western World . We read it aloud, with Robert (an Irishman) taking the part of Christy Mahon (the Playboy ). Robert explained to us that Synge had spent three summers out on the Aran Islands (off the West Coast), where he had learned Irish and had got to know how the locals talked. I resolved that, some day, I would go out to the Islands myself and, decades later, Mary and I did indeed go out to Inis Mór, where I said a silent “thank you” to Robert’s memory. Robert’s first wife (sadly, she died young) was Norwegian and it was probably through her that Robert also found time to introduce us to Ibsen’s play, Ghosts , thus beginning, for me, a life-long love of Ibsen. Unfortunately, I was never taught by John Steane, (though I saw him after I left MTS). He was another inspirational teacher. I don't think I fully appreciated at the time that I arrived in 1953, the War had only ended eight years previously. Having said that, Armistice Day was always a very impressive occasion, with Masters who had fought wearing their uniforms and with the Head Boy, in CCF uniform standing to attention in front of the Memorial as we filed out of the Great Hall.

Hilles House Prefects 1958 Robert Blackburn seated left and “Joe” Hodgetts seated right

There was little careers guidance in those days. If you were on the Arts side and thought likely to get to university, you were simply told to apply to Oxford. I remember being given the Oxford University Gazette and told to pick a College! I had been taught by Paul Grundy and knew he had been at an Oxford College with a strange name – Brasenose – so that was what I chose! It turned out to have been a brilliant choice for people who wanted to read Law. To finish on a humorous note, in the spring of 1963 (when the snow on Boxing Day lasted for three months), I walked to the bus stop one morning, to find the unmistakeable figure of Miss Wheater (head of catering when I was at MTS) already there. I said, politely, “Good morning, Miss Wheater”. She looked at me and said “Were you one of my boys?” When I said that I had been, she immediately said “It wasn’t my fault; they never gave me enough money”. I did my best not to laugh, as the food was, indeed, truly dreadful!

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