Bob

So a slightly different sort of blog this time…

For the purposes of the Portslade Facebook history page, the following is a bit of a bio about my Great Uncle:

Henry George ‘Bob’ Berry was born in January 1919 in Brixton, South London at Hackford Rd, which was just off the Brixton Rd.

As his family grew larger they moved to Camberwell New Rd opposite a park not far from the Oval cricket ground, and from a young age he became very streetwise and could well look after himself in more ways than one in the pre war backstreets of Camberwell.

He left school in 1932 when he was 13 and got a job at Smithfield meat market near the Holborn Viaduct. This meant working long hours, but over a period of five years he achieved the status of ‘Master Butcher’ by the time he’d reached 18.

Wanting to do something different, in 1937 he joined the Army as a private in the Royal Artillery, ultimately serving in many different theatres of war, starting in India, then on to the African desert through to the Gustav line in Italy, and finally on to Palestine to keep the peace between the warring factions there at the time.

Back home in London during 1941/1942 his sister, Joan Berry had joined the Women's Royal Army Corps (W.R.A.C) and was duly posted to Invergordon, Scotland near the Cromarty Firth, and Bob’s youngest sibling Sid (my Grandad) joined the Royal Navy and was part of the Royal Naval Patrol Service (R.N.P.S) based at Lowestoft before being sent overseas.

During the war their house in Camberwell New Rd was bombed out, effectively making the whole family homeless (where their house once was is now somewhere between Bolton Crescent and Midnight Avenue, SE5), but fortunately Bob, Joan and Sid had family on the Sussex coast in ‘Upper’ Portslade, to assist in providing a residence.

They had an uncle called Charlie Berry, and he lived at 77 Southdown Rd, just north of the Old Village. A very popular chap, my Dad was even bestowed the middle name of ‘Charles’ in tribute of him.

Circa 1943 Charlie started a property merry-go-round by additionally purchasing 3 Downsview Rd and effectively renting it to the Berry family, incorporating Bob, Joan, Sid…and of course their parents Henry & Sarah.

Henry George Berry and Sarah Ann Berry (Budgen)

The house was very near to the south side of Broomfield's Farm, at the end of Southdown Rd (which was not yet the complete structure that’s present now).

In 1946, having ultimately achieved the rank of Regimental Sergeant Major, Bob’s career in the Army ended.

Returning to civvy street, he took employment at Greenfields (NOT the removal company), which was a national allotment area in the dip of the Old Shoreham Road where Hove Fire Station is now located. He also had a part time Saturday morning job at ‘Venners’ the butchers in the Old Village.

During 1947 Bob’s brother Sid married Lily Emma Flicker, and their sister Joan married Reginald ‘Jack’ Greed – both couples soon having children (my dad Sid, and his cousin Bobby respectively).

In 1951/52, Sid & Lily moved to 48 Easthill Drive, and Joan & Jack moved to 21 Wickhurst Rd. Not long after they had moved on, Bob took full ownership of 3 Downsview Rd, and in 1954 his parents also moved on (due to failing health) and went to live with Sid & Lily.

Bob wasn’t on his own for long though as he soon invited his friend Phyllis Kirkby (or Kirby?) to live with him. Phyllis was known to the family for a while, and indeed she had a sister called Bertha who lived at 74 Southdown Rd and was a good friend of Uncle Charlie’s.Upon Uncle Charlie's death, another branch of the family (Syd and Lilly Budgen) bought 77 Southdown Rd and rented a room to yet more family (!) – cousin Arnold and his wife Iris.

In 1953, Bob had changed employment again and became a bus driver with ‘Brighton, Hove & District’, soon becoming a regular driver on the 15b route (Patcham to Mile Oak, terminating at Chrisdory Rd) – and this was a job he would ultimately do for the next 30 years.

Bob's bus!

In 1958, one final addition to the first generation of Berry’s born in Portslade came along in the shape of Sid and Lily’s youngest son Christopher, but this joy was short-lived for the family as later that year (October 22^nd) Bob, Joan and Sid’s father Henry George Berry (senior) passed away with cancer. Indeed my Dad relates this as being one of the saddest days of his life as he was particularly close to his Grandad – a man he describes as very caring and loving, and in many ways similar to Bob.

In the 1960’s, as well as working on the buses, Bob also had a part time job in a butchers shop in Boundary Rd / Station Rd called ‘Carpenters’, and he worked there for about five years.

Over the years Bob pursued hobbies on three main fronts.

He had a great love of gardening, was a dedicated animal lover, and also he ventured into brewing many homemade beers and wines.

Directly related to this latter hobby, was the fact that he also kept Bees! This resulted in some superb honey from which he made his very strong, delicious and, dare I say it, famous Mead!

As far as pets went (excluding the bees!) over the years he had two dogs (Trixie and Sue), and also had a Siamese cat, who Bob called ‘Ming’.

Ming was very ill when Bob took him in, and was not expected to live more than a couple of months, but with a lot of love and attention the cat survived for a further ten years.

He retired from driving buses in the early 1980’s and enjoyed a peaceful and relaxing life as a homemaker. Always a social chap, whilst at Downsview Rd he made some good friends with many of his neighbours; notably the Gilbey family (who lived opposite) and in particular he often spoke of Ron and Betty Sanders.

Very sadly, Phyllis passed away not long after Bob retired. Typical of the man though, he kept his spirits up and soon enough became friends with a lady called Pat, who remained his companion until his own sad passing in 2001.

Bob in the 1970's

When he died, it undoubtedly created a void in the family – unsurprising given that he was such a ‘larger than life’ upstanding character with immense personality and charm. Indeed my Dad often remarks that he had immeasurable love and respect for him – maybe more so in some ways than he had for his own father, such is the tangled web and intricacies of family life.

My Dad (Sid) and Bob (1990's)

My Dad waxes lyrical about how Bob was a very kind and gentle hearted man, ever sensitive to the welfare of his family, standing by them in his younger days through rain and fire – though he was also as hard as nails to anyone who was not his friend or until he got to know you! He never lost his military discipline, but any excuse for him to unleash his contagious laugh was always welcome. Without doubt as a human being, people would always look up to him.

My own memories of my Great Uncle Bob undoubtedly centre on his positive approach to anything and everything. From as far back as I can remember (I was born in 1975) our family would always pop in to see him every Christmas day morning, when he would never fail to mention that I looked more and more like my mum every time he saw me! He would also often give us a taste of his superb home brewed Mead – and one Christmas he got my brother (aged 5) drunk on his homemade red wine and lemonade… and ALWAYS gave the family children a Cadbury's selection box. In fact, he even bought me my first ever wristwatch and I've never been without one since.

Me and my Great Uncle Bob (1985)

The thing I will most remember him by though was that he was always smiling or laughing. His death was very sad for us all and I think it's fair to say that when he passed away, we lost a special part of our Christmas mornings forever.

The last photo of Sid, Joan and Bob together (2000)

RIP Henry George 'Uncle Bob' Berry - and in fact rest in peace and thanks to them all, the first of the Berry Portslade residents:

Bob, Joan and Sid

(1919-2004)

XxX

The Coca-Cola Saga

Ten years ago this month was the closest I’ve got to my Andy Warhol allocated 15 minutes of fame. 

I don't even LIKE soup..

Back in the Spring of 2005, Coca-Cola had been running a competition with the Football League called ‘Win a Player’ whereby if you registered your contact details daily on a special website you had the chance of winning £250,000 for the football league club of your choice, plus £10,000 for yourself – and more or less I had registered every day.

On Friday May 27^th 2005, I was in a very deep sleep (having returned from holiday the day before and suffering from jet lag) when my mobile phone first rang at 915am, displaying a private number – so I ignored it, and rolled back to sleep. Annoyingly the phone rang again ten minutes later so I caved in and answered it.

A really nervous guy spoke and asked me to confirm my name and which football team I supported…

“Why!?” I asked.

“Because we’re checking if you are the same person who entered a Coca-Cola competition recently”

This sounded promising!

“Oh ok – I’m Aaron Berry, and Brighton and Hove Albion” I confirmed.

“Well congratulations, you are the major prize winner!”

I just couldn’t believe it and I literally started to shake as I’d never won anything like this before!

I knew just how much of an impact £250,000 would have for the Albion, as they’d barely bought any players over recent years for substantial fees, and I’d now be helping to change that.

Shortly after, I received a further call saying a rep from Coca-Cola would be coming down to arrange details for my signing confidentiality contracts and attending the Millennium Stadium for the Play Off final the following Monday – I’d actually forgotten that another part of the prize was a trip to the Play Off Final where I’d be presented with the winning cheque for the club on the pitch. Exciting stuff!

On the day of the game we (I’d gone with my son’s older brother) arrived at Cardiff for 9am and were greeted by a guy called Chris, who was to be our chaperone for the day. Hilariously he was a Crystal Palace fan, but to be fair he was a top lad and looked after us well, starting with buying us a substantial breakfast at the Hilton Hotel. Shortly after, the then Albion Chairman Dick Knight walked in with the then Albion Manager Mark McGhee, and by this point I was itching to celebrate with them, but it was explained to me that to add to the excitement, the ‘meeting’ between us would be delayed until a more spontaneous moment later at the stadium. Plus apparently Mark McGhee hadn't been told the news himself yet.

At about 1130am we headed into town, soaking up the atmosphere en route to the Millennium Stadium – it was a bit like déjà vu, having done the same thing exactly a year earlier when Albion had beaten Bristol City in the previous season’s Play Off final. My view at the stadium this time was slightly superior though, as we went straight to a hospitality box for a champagne reception. Nothing like the usual £2.50 chips I’d been used to at Withdean Stadium then...

At around 2pm, I was introduced to Clare, who would apparently be fielding all my phone calls and media liaisons. I thought it sounded a bit excessive, but as it turned out I absolutely needed her as I was bombarded with calls and interview requests for several weeks after the event.

Clare soon took me down to the tunnel area where I was stood amongst several West Ham United and Preston North End players/staff that were milling around getting ready for the game.

Also arriving at that time were Brighton and Hove Albion communications / press officers (Paul Camillin and Tim Dudding) who both came over and introduced themselves to us – clearly as delighted about the news as I was!

Clare asked me to change into my Brighton home shirt, and we started to walk down the tunnel – at which point Mark McGhee came jogging up the tunnel towards me... he shook my hand and kept on saying "well done!" continuously – he was absolutely made up with the news! We then headed onto the pitch, and the legend that is Chris Kamara approached me and said “You must be Aaron Berry!? Well done, we’ll be on in a moment!”

Having just met these two football legends that I knew so much about, and suddenly to have them know MY name and be shaking my hand was totally surreal. I might have been 29 years old, but I felt like a star struck child! Albion Chairman Dick Knight then joined us and gave me a huge hug, continuously thanking me and saying “well done!” over and over again - everyone was just so pleased!

At 240pm Chris Kamara led me, Mark and Dick (and the super sized novelty cheque) out to the centre circle and we did the live Sky Sports interview and loads of photos, before me and Dick walked back up the tunnel and did an interview with Paul & Tim in order to get the news onto the Albion website.

We then made our way back up to the hospitality box in time for the start of the match and to have some dinner too, though I didn’t get to eat much and I barely got to see large chunks of the match as I started getting text messages and mobile phone calls galore. Several friends and family had seen me on the TV and others had seen the news across dozens of websites on the internet, and just after half time I started getting calls from local and national press and TV / Radio stations wanting to speak to me about the win. I believe the first person I spoke to was Andy Naylor of the Brighton Argus newspaper, and I recall bursting into laughter during our conversation that all this was really happening!

It was tremendously overwhelming (but in a very good way) and the adrenalin and shock of being so involved in it all just kept me going – I was determined to thoroughly enjoy every moment.

At the end of the match, I sat in the hospitality box and tried so hard to remember all that had happened as it all went by in such a flash. From the moment I won, the people I had spoken to at Coca-Cola and those who had looked after us had been tremendous in making it an experience I’ll never forget. By the time I got home at 915pm I was exhausted but still totally thrilled about what had happened.

The next morning on the way to work I was still buzzing! It was part of the local news report on Southern FM Radio (now Heart), and when I got the morning edition of The Argus newspaper, I couldn’t believe how much it was emblazoned on the back page! I collected so many newspapers to keep as mementoes and appeared on both TV and radio over the subsequent couple of weeks, including TalkSport, BBC Radio Five Live and Soccer AM on Sky Sports. I went to Withdean on a couple of occasions to have interviews and photo shoots with Mark, Dick and the all-important cheque, and kindly the club also presented me with a personalised home shirt depicting my win for them – an item which still holds pride of place in my home.

A month or so after the event we signed the player my winnings would buy.

Colin Kazim-Richards from Bury was someone I’d admittedly not heard of before, but You Tube evidenced that he was a talented player capable of scoring spectacular goals. Colin was very friendly and was over the moon to be joining us – he thanked me for making the effort as he felt he may not have been a Brighton player without the club having won the competition. He was generally known by his initials ‘CKR’, but was also very soon was dubbed 'the Coca-Cola Kid’.

I couldn’t recall looking forward to the start of a season as much in years and it seemed nothing could go wrong. And to be fair, for the first couple of months of the season, nothing did go wrong.

It’s fair to say though that this particular story comes in two parts. Part one above, was about as good as it gets – I loved all of it. But part two of the story didn’t go quite so well for a variety of reasons.

Unfortunately the boost of signing CKR didn’t really materialise in terms of team performance, and it seemed that maybe this wasn’t the dream move that all parties had hoped it would be. Something didn’t seem to be right and there was apparently great frustration about the way things were panning out. The team had a diabolical season, save for a couple of stand out moments (a 0-1 win at Crystal Palace and a 2-1 win at home to Leeds United.)

CKR finished as top scorer with six goals (which shows how poor the season was for the team as a whole), but never really got to fulfil his potential.

I was a bit caught in the middle as I could understand the frustrations of fans who felt Colin hadn’t done well or shown enough effort, but maybe there were reasons why.

I posted a few vague references (fed to me from CKR’s advisors) about why he was unhappy on the Albion fans’ most popular internet forum North Stand Chat and got a few understanding responses… but my words also attracted some personal criticism (and abuse) against me because I wasn’t entirely telling everyone every little thing I knew - due to the personal nature of some of the issues though, I strongly felt it wasn’t my place to do so. Maybe staying silent might have been a better option, but I was hoping for a happier ending!

A lot of fans were very sympathetic to me, but one or two were starting to give me as much abuse as they were giving Colin. I offered (on occasion) to discuss matters privately, but most were not inclined to take me up on it. In fairness, many more people after the event were very kind and generous, noting that it clearly wasn’t my fault that things hadn't worked out. At times I felt rather under pressure, and almost longed to go back to being an anonymous fan again.

At the start of the following season (August 2006) CKR was sold to Sheffield United with a sell on clause (which subsequently netted the Albion a further £200,000) so by all accounts the prize win was now effectively half a million quid. The money was still in the club so it hadn't been lost, and I was told the profit was ultimately used in part to purchase Glenn Murray… 

Could do a job...

But the end result of what had been a superb experience was rather sad I guess.

Graciously, the Albion chairman Dick Knight phoned me on the night we sold Colin to explain why he had been let go. The reasons were confidential and remain so - I've still never told anyone about what we spoke about.

I know Dick shared the same disappointment as I did, in that it never really worked out. Dick also invited me to be a guest in the boardroom for an upcoming home game, which I gratefully accepted.

Many people had suggested I should get a season ticket for life as thanks from the club, but hand on heart it hadn't crossed my mind. At the time, the club was hard up enough without giving away further gifts! Had we already moved to our much delayed stadium at Falmer by then I might have considered it, but never whilst we were still at Withdean though.

To help the club I love by winning a substantial sum of money at a time when they needed all the financial help they could get, was reward enough.

Besides, there were greater heroes than me as fans – the likes of Paul Samrah, Liz Costa, John Baines, Tim Carder, Ed Bassford, Roz South and not forgetting the sadly departed Sarah Watts and Roy Chuter (and I could go on with many others) who put in so much time for campaigns to help the club – but it was enough for me to have gained the opportunity in the future to say to my Grandchildren: ‘I was lucky enough to win this and it helped the club keep going on the pitch for a little while’

And look how far the Albion has come since. Marvellous scenes!*

*Notwithstanding this season just gone!

I never really had much contact directly with CKR after the day he signed for us. When he left, he spent a season with Sheffield United before moving to Fenerbahçe where he played (and scored) against Chelsea in the Champions League. Kindly he sent me a signed Fenerbahçe shirt and his Dad also offered to fly me out to see a game in Turkey – I didn’t go, but nonetheless it was a very generous gesture. CKR went on to play for the Turkish national team as well as Toulouse, Galatasaray, Feyenoord and Blackburn Rovers – though his appearance for the latter against Brighton at The Amex in 2013 brought about some contentious issues to say the least.

Overall it was a strange saga, but I would not have sacrificed winning the competition as it was such a great experience, and ultimately helpful for the club. On top of that, in later years the win got mentioned in a couple of superb books (MadMan and We Want Falmer) which I was absolutely made up by.Overall it was definitely one of the best happenings of my life. 

As for the £10,000 I won… well it may sound boring but I mainly cleared my debts! The rest of the money was spent on taking a family holiday in 2006, paying for my brother to have the same laser eye surgery I’d had and buying a huge freezer and a food processor. All of which left me with just about enough spare cash for a KFC bucket and a bottle of Southern Comfort!

Simple pleasures!

Cover Up

Last year I watched the ITV series ‘Cilla’, which documented the rise to fame of ‘our’ Miss Cilla Black.

Very good it was too, with Sheridan Smith absolutely nailing the titular role. In particular she delivered some faithfully tasty cover versions of Cilla Black’s most famous songs, including ‘You're My World’ and ‘Anyone Who Had A Heart’... which prompted a discussion about the quality and merits of cover versions.Can the cover ever be better than the original? Is it even allowed to be considered so?It’s probably fair to say that MOST of the time, the original is indeed the best, but that’s not to say that there haven’t been some amazing covers, because there have been some belting good attempts.In fact there are some absolute standards recorded over the years that people probably have no idea were actually covers themselves, such as these randomly selected tracks:

The Beatles ~ ‘Twist & Shout’ – originally by the Top Notes

Blondie ~ ‘The Tide Is High’– originally by The Paragons

Elvis Presley ~ ‘Hound Dog’– originally by Big Mama Thornton

Cyndi Lauper ~ ‘Girls Just Want To Have Fun’– originally by Robert Hazard

Beach Boys ~ ‘Sloop John.B’– originally by Carl Sandburg

Natalie Imbruglia ~ ‘Torn’– originally by Ednaswap

Soft Cell ~ ‘Tainted Love’– originally by Gloria Jones

Righteous Bros. ~ ‘Unchained Melody’– originally by Al Hibbler (Vocal version)

Aretha Franklin ~ ‘Respect’– originally by Otis Redding

Nilsson ~ ‘Without You’– originally by Badfinger

Just a few examples of songs that the above artists arguably made their own, but that actually belong to someone else…

So to answer the question as to whether the original is always better than the cover or not, surely it has to be each song on its merit.

Whilst not an extensive list, below are some of my favourite covers that I think offer something different and maybe better than the original:

How Deep Is Your Love?

Originally made famous by the Bee Gees, covered by Take That

You Showed Me

Originally made famous by the Turtles, covered by the Lightning Seeds

Always On My Mind

Originally made famous by Elvis Presley, covered by the Pet Shop Boys

I Think We’re Alone Now

Originally made famous by Tommy James & The Shondells, covered by Tiffany

And a special mention to Flawless

Originally made famous by The Ones (and in part Gary’s Gang), and not so much covered by George Michael as lyrically enhanced. The original was more of an instrumental, until George had a crack at some words for it. Love it! >

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do – Part 2

So Part 1 looked at the transition from Primary to Secondary School – fast forward 5 years and 1992 brought to a close my compulsory education years.

Over those 5 years, as is the case for the vast majority of teenagers, I’d built up some incredible friendships destined to last, with both individuals and as a group alike. So much so that during our last year, we’d extended not only to simply meeting at the park or sleepovers, but  to also going out for full blown meals in Brighton. How very grown up!
The irony is that now I can't actually afford to go out as often as we used to back then!

I recall one night going for a birthday meal at the Marina for one of the girls and during the course of the evening it significantly snowed. I say significantly, it was about an inch (a man's inch), but at the time it had been years since the last snowfall, so some of us ended up walking back towards Brighton throwing snowballs from the beach, which seemed a bit surreal at the time!

Fish Dandruff

The last few months at school were fine, though for me absolutely carried a sense of impending endings – which I found a bit confusing as to how I ought to feel about it. Would I be friends with these people forever? Would I ever see them again? Did they even want to keep in touch with me anyway!?

All these considerations were set against a backdrop of imminent GCSE exams. Shamefully, I barely revised at all – mainly as no matter how hard I tried to revise, it seemed that the more I read (and re-read) my books and notes, the less confident I became. I did alright in the end though, with my best result being attaining the highest grade in German that a male had achieved to date at the school. Wunderbar!
I'm sure it’s been smashed since...

May 8th 1992 - Our last day before taking exam leave !
It was quite emotional for some, and we all dressed up for the occasion but by and large looked pretty terrible – such was early 1990’s fashion.

Many girls (and probably some boys) were seen to cry – seemingly in the misplaced belief that they would never see any of their friends ever again. Whilst the final assembly party was in swing, I joined a few of my best mates on a final tour around the deserted school to say goodbye to the ghosts. Albeit this was a little bit daft, as I was coming back to same school the following September to the in-house Sixth Form!

However that day really did feel like the definitive end of my schooling. Like my time at Primary School, I had mostly enjoyed Secondary School too. I had made the best friends and enjoyed some fantastic laughs along the way, and barring one or two notable exceptions, most of the teachers were pretty good too.

And, certainly initially, the end of school didn’t totally mean the end all friendships. Primarily with my male friends, we were together virtually every day of that prolonged summer (due to exam leave etc) – I didn’t own a bike, but I borrowed one belonging to my friend’s brother, and we cycled all over the place at all hours of the day and night just talking about everything and nothing, girls and football, school and music, starting a band, drinking, Winona Ryder etc.

I really don't care that she was once a shoplifter!

It was a hot summer and it was one of the only times in my life that I got anything like a decent tan!
Rather belatedly I also finally grew a bit taller – earlier in the year I had been a stunted five feet three, but by the time I started Sixth Form, I’d towered to all of five feet nine!

It’s fair to say though that many friendships through school association did in fact disintegrate from this time, and I guess that’s the way it is meant to be. You don’t live with your parents forever as you eventually outgrow most of what they can provide for you, and it’s the same for your school mates. By the time you get to 16, there’s less and less you have in common with them apart from the fact that you have to be in the same building as them up to that point.

My step daughter recently passed up the idea of having a big 16^th birthday party (not my fault!!) on the basis that she is very focussed and particular as to who her friends are and likes the fact that it’s a smallish group. I think that’s probably a realistic and sensible approach.

I’m in my 40^th year now, and although I don’t still have any kind of regular contact with ALL those who were in our school group of about 9 close friends, I happily communicate with those who want to still be part of my life, and know that with one or two of them, we often resume our friendship as if we’d only been at school yesterday, which is a nice state to be in.

Musical interlude time again: I've gone with the Number One for the week in May I technically left secondary school (for exam leave)

Two years later, and it really was the last year at school! I had been quite looking forward to my Sixth Form years, as I had this illusion that it would be a great last hurrah for my school days.

Lower School, turned Sixth Form, turned entirely new school now

It wasn't!

The last few months at Sixth Form were a drag and I was sadly pleased when it had all finished. I’d enjoyed some of it, and had bonded in some new friendships with people I had not known so well before, but from very early on it felt like my heart simply wasn’t in it. I had genuinely enjoyed 99% of my school years, but during the last year I just felt I’d had enough.

I got bored with the work and coupled with the fatigue I was feeling all the time (I had Glandular fever and Anaemia), I was in no right mind to want to go to university. I’m sure it probably showed in my work as towards the end of my final year, one teacher absolutely (and unnecessarily) ridiculed me in front of my classmates, which totally wiped out any confidence and drive I had left.
After that humiliation, I had classmates that I didn’t really know that well come and offer sympathies because of her attack.
Given that I train and teach people for a living now, as my teacher for several spells between 1987-1994 she really ought to have known how to get the best out of me a lot better than how she attempted. It’s unfair to say that she alone ruined my lasting memory of school for me, but she didn’t help bring the curtain down on a happy note that’s for sure.

I pushed on through though until the exams were done, and pointedly I set up the Alice Cooper classic ‘School’s Out’ to play on my walkman as I left the school and walked down Portslade High Street for the last time following my final exam.

It was time to go out and earn a living...

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do – Part 1

A fairly pivotal few months lie ahead for two of my children. My son is making the step up from Middle to High School (or in old money, Primary to Secondary), and my step daughter is imminently about to embark on GCSEs and the move to College / Sixth Form.

I can’t help cast my mind back to when I experienced the same events myself, back when every summer seemed to be a long and hot one, and my biggest concerns had absolutely nothing to do with money!

I left Primary School on July 22nd 1987, and I doubt I could have enjoyed my time there any more if I tried. The teachers were 99% tip top and the same went for my classmates. On the last day of school, my favourite teacher gave her goodbyes and put it to us that we should come back and visit the school in the future – not necessarily the next term, or even the next year, but in years to come. And I did so in 1999, 2007 and 2009, and I actually found it quite an overwhelming experience (in a good way!)

Primary School - clearly NOT in July 1987

Here's another photo I took earlier...

And as is my wont, I have to include an obligatory music gesture! For this blog it comes in the shape of the song that was Number 1 the week I left Primary School:

Whilst it was sad to leave, I didn't sense any particular feeling of loss, as every member of my class was going to the same Secondary School anyway. So come the third of September 1987, we all moved up the ladder.

Told you I had blond hair!

I personally found the step up to be immense. I think that coming from a relatively small village primary school with barely 150 students in the entire school, I was now amongst more than 150 students in just one school year. I’d gone from being the fifth oldest in my last school year, to being about the twentieth oldest in this new place. I recall getting horrendous 'flu just a few weeks into the first school term. In fact I actually felt a bit voiceless, having drifted into the mass of numbers somewhat, not that I'm an attention seeker! Much.
*cough*
No-one believes me that I'm actually painfully shy!

Looks appealing doesn't it!?

I also had a bit of a rough start as I was selected in a class with not one of my male friends from primary school, and just one female. I got on really well with her, but being rather shy (seriously!) I needed a bit more of a comfort blanket than that. Most of the class seemed to know each other and were on the whole friendly enough, though one or two were crueller than they needed to be. Thankfully I found a couple of people who went out of their way to be incredibly friendly and helpful to me. They put in so much effort to get to know me during those early days which I was incredibly grateful for. I've never forgotten that and to this day I am pleased they are still amongst my circle of friends.

In spite of their great efforts though, both me and my female friend (with all due respect to each other) were still unhappy and craved friends that we were more familiar with. With the aid of a phone call from my Dad, a meeting was instigated with our terrific head of year, and he went through all the student class lists to see what arrangements he could make to help us. Thankfully there was a supremely easy swap which suited us both. My new tutor group was great from the get-go, and some of the children I met over those early weeks became lifelong friends, although there was one guy who seemed determined to exercise his height advantage by starting to bully the children of a smaller stature – namely me. He just gave me so much grief for the first month or so, such as literally shoving me out of the way for no reason and physically trying to intimidate me at every opportunity. It came to a head when I had just had enough of it all. I challenged him to meet me on a Saturday at a local park to ‘sort it out’. I managed to get the support of many of my new classmates, as they too had got fed up with his antics.

As it happened, I didn't go to the park. Maybe it was fear and I just bottled it, but I just thought that he wouldn't show up either. Come the following Monday though I walked straight up to him in front of his mates and bluffed: “Where were you then!?”... He countered with the same. Both of us claimed to have been there, smiled to each other and left it at that, and he never gave me any aggro again!

So all in all, once the minor issues had resolved themselves, it was a relatively easy transition, and one that I reckon my son will cope with well enough. Mainly as he’s far more confident than I ever was!

In Part 2, I’ll have a look at leaving Secondary School, which is a slightly different ballpark!