My Life by Lionel Graves. (Page 35)
Bob Saul was Head, a very nice chap, only fault was that he was too much into the social side and we were always attending parent, country dancing evenings, social evenings, as well as the normal P.T.A's, building our own swimming pool – hard work with spades into the clay soil until one of the parents had the brilliant idea of slipping a tenner to the driver of a mechanical digger working on the motorway or by-pass and it was finished in a couple of afternoons, apart from the assembly of course. Still it was a happy staff, no bitchiness or backbiting and he was well supported. I used to travel by car from Kidderminster and had 5 years there, I think.
I applied for Headships with no success in Worcestershire, one education officer told Bob that I didnt interview well, I knew that I was a complete bag of nerves. I tried Warwickshire and got called for an interview for a small church school at Priors Marston, near Southam. The day I went for interview the car broke down, I got it to a garage and phoned Warwick explaining that I might be late for my interview, I also had oily hands. I just made it in time, but feeling that all was lost and it was just a waste of time and meant just going through the motions. I was completley relaxed and gave the best interview ever and got the job. They even teased me about the rivalry between the Worcestershire and Warwickshire County cricket teams.
We moved in winter, Boxing Day, think the children were at Tenbury, but the snow was so bad and a cold wind, we nearly broke down on Bewdley Bridge. We finally made it via Alcester, bypassing Stratford, then Warwick, Leamington, Southam and Marston. The house was a council house that went with the school and there was no electricity although the MEB and school caretaker had been informed. The neighbours gave us a cup of tea and we went to bed in the dark, huddled in coats and blankets. Neither of us can remember exactly when the furniture van delivered our stuff, but it was a small company, a man and his son, Wrigglesworth from Kidderminster. A few days later the snow got worse and the Welsh Road, called that because in the past the Welsh cattle drovers used to drive their heard of cattle along it on their way to London. Late we changed the Standard 8 for a new mini, the snow drifts were higher than the car on both sides but we could get through. Mrs Aylmer, the school caretaker who kept the place spotless so that you could have eaten off the floors, was very helpful and kept bringing us fruit, vegetables and bundles of kindling wood and leaving them on the doorstep about 6am.
It was a lot to ask of Diana moving to an isolated village of 200 to 300 people when she had always been used to living in a town but she coped marvelously and gave me grand support. We had a good time in Marston, both Jane and Richard attended the school, Jane always claims I was harder on her than any of the others, I suspect she was right. I know she moaned when I confiscated some sweets from her in class and then ate them.
The one fly in the ointment was Mrs Yates the Infant teacher who had previously taught in her husband's Bluecoat school until his retirement. She asked to bring her grandson into school when he was having an extended stay with them. I thought it would only be for a short time but it went on and on and she used to spend more time with him and give him more attention then the rest. I normally did the outside playground duties as I enjoyed it but when this happened I started to work to rule and insisted that they did their outside duties as well. This didn't last long and she resigned, she even contacted the Union and tried to put them on to me, but of course got nowhere.
Mrs French was the Junior 1st and 2nd year teacher, whilst I had the top 3rd and 4th year juniors. She had formerly been Headmistress of Priors Hardwick our neighbouring village school before they closed and we amalgamated. She played the piano for assembly and music lesson, she had a series of old Methodist hymn books, Moody and Sankey I think, but could be wrong and I was always choosing hymns like, “Give said the little stream, Give oh give, give oh give...” and “A little lamb went straying among the fields one day”. We got on well together and she did a good job.
Talking about the Welsh road earlier and the cattle drovers there was another old footpath that we walked the dogs to Hardwick was the salt road where even earlier people, Bronze Age perhaps, used to travel along it heading for Droitwich and its salt pans. The field at the back of our house was a perfect example of the old three field system and the ridges and furrow where the ploughman knocked the lumps of soil off the ploughshares before turning the horses and ploughs can still be seen.
13 Shuckburgh Road, Priors Marston (1964).
Email: Lionel Graves (lionel@graf-tek.com).
Copyright ©2000-2008 L. Graves. All Rights Reserved.
