Kevin Mulqueen's Guestbook

St Lukes
Bell never rang on the hour it was manually worked and only rang when a service was on.The picture titled st lukes before Donnington Road was built is wrong as the road and some houses were there before church finished it is yhe same at the top but bottom is different

I remember playing you at Chess
Hi Kevin, I was a pupil when you joined the staff at OSH. I personally spent my first three years in Founders Block, but as I was at the start of my fourth year when you joined, I had just moved across to Maybury block. I remember I played chess, and very much remember playing the girls high school in the library. You used to invite me up to your flat for games of Chess, and to listen to your santana records. You would also give me glasses of your home made beer (which If you did nowadays, you would probably be arrested as some sort of pervert for). I later found out that you gave me and others the cloudy third rate beer rather than pour it down the sink. At the time I was there I didn't notice it as an old fashioned, sinking organisation, although on reflection reading your blog I can see that it was. I do remember trying to get away with as much as possible, baiting and winding up the teachers, trying to push them as far as possible but not cross the line. If you got beaten, it was better than lines, and to be honest lots of the teachers weren't that good at it. Peter Davis, very flamboyant but it didn't really hurt, we would have a laugh and a fag afterwards round the back of Heath block. Ray Milner on the other hand, I wouldn't say he was a bully, but very strict, very shouty. He didn't resort to beating pupils very often, because we were all terrified, as he was probably the hardest hitter. I only got that once , and didn't really want that again. I must have got beaten by Peter Davis at least ten times whilst I was a pupil there. I remember that we were often bored so would resort to mischief to amuse ourselves. Impersonating the teachers was a favourite, I remember doing you, Mr Krukowski, Joe Haggett (Shunny you and I are going to fall out if your not careful), and finally Cud Bradley (A disgusting horrible man, and a genuine peadophile). I remember your first day we had you for English that morning, after the class, discussing what we thought of you, we talked of your accent, and I said in my impersonation of your burr, "he's not a teacher, he's a fucking farmer." I think you may know where your nickname came from. Oh by the way in my day it was Sid Naylor (Smokers investigation department). I remember bumping into Joe Haggett one holiday and he ponced a cigarette off me. I managed to ponce one back off him every few weeks at school. I must have had forty back for that one fag. Being taught by you, I remember reading Brighton Rock for 'O' level, and particularly where Pinkie makes love to Rose, the scene outside the window being described as a tall chimney belching out white smoke. You attempted to explain that it was a phallic symbol, whilst we innocently claimed we had not idea what you were talking about. You made several attempts to explain none of which we apparently got (we would telepathically pick up on a piss take), so that in the end you just blurted out, "he's just shafted her alright." another victory for us there. To be fair to you do you remember the fun we all had (you included) to find ways to claim that the character of Little Swills in Bleak house was one of the key protagonists, making up utter rubbish about him to amuse ourselves. You are right in many ways we have fond memories because we always hanker after our lost youth, but they were carefree days, where the summers seemed much longer and much warmer (well they were in 1976). I have fond memories of living in that school with my friends, but for me personally, it was probably connected that I did not have a brilliant life at home, so even in the school holidays, I would often stay with relatives and friends so as not to be at home. I used to look forward to the start of term, just to get back to the stability of school life, being with my friends, and most of all teacher baiting (much like goon baiting in the POW camps of WW2). I'm sure I could write my own blog about much that went on at OSH, and the times we had, would anyone be interested I wonder. Fondest memories. Trevor Smith (pupil at OSH 1972-1978).

Rose tinted glasses - tinted from the blood splatters of corporal punishment.
OK, perhaps not, but in todays world of headline grabbers. I was there from 76 to 81 (ish) I ended up back at OSH this weekend (Easter 2022) for a wedding reception being held in the great hall, and as one does, head straight for google as soon as work goes quiet. Coming across your pictures first and then the article, it brought back many wonderful and terrifying memories. You did teach me English for at least one year and I have always stated that you got me into the world of Science fiction novels, though whether this is true, I cannot be sure. Interesting to hear your take on other teachers, because when one is 11 year old 'day boy' coming from a working class family, that school and all its teachers and senior students were fairly intimidating, including your goodself who I recall as reading to us, swaying to and fro from one foot to another (not forgetting those side burns). I lived 2 doors down from ‘Pixie’ Price and would babysit his two boys (neither went to OSH) and I am pretty sure he was best drinking buddies with JCB who along with Laurie Benge you don't mention here (though I will read again to be sure after work). In fact Laurie Benge is the one teacher I always wanted to meet again as he was my form master for all 5 years and it's not till afterwards you realise that you'd like the opportunity to thank various people you meet in your life (or tell the opposite sometimes). I have been back to the Old Folyeans meals perhaps half a dozen times over the last 30 years (where have those years gone?), and thus met a few of the old teachers. I understand that Len Krukowski has only just gone into a home, how old he is, one can only marvel given the story he would tell about how it’s a miracle he’s here at all and the line jumping saga of a concentration camp his parents did. I adored Ben Kirton and had I of listened to his warnings about the idiot I was becoming, my life may have taken a different direction earlier than it did. I still recall his stories of being in the RAF and bombing of Peenemunde in WWII (whether true is another matter), shaming me for being seen over the park with a girl who was wearing my school scarf. Pretty sure Haggett knew little about Mathemetics but was in fact a grocer as he would frequently talk about apples and oranges. Too many of the Teachers there were bullies and or tired of teaching, frequently taking out their frustrations on the young vulnerable kids.

I remember
I did French O level, taught by Dai Evans. My French, such as it is, has a welsh lilt. He is one of the few I remember.

I woz there
I was there from Sept '62 until april '66. I was in 1C,2C,3C but because I was going to leave at Easter'66 I had to go into 4D to give someone else a chance. I remember most of the teachers you mention. Paul Hodder was a year below me, in the same class as my brother Don. Other teachers I remember was Mr Grinter P.E. Mr Archer aka Sturmey. (cycle gears) Mr Cooper History aka Hank because he wore glasses similar to Hank Marvin. He offered to teach me the clarinet after classes but all I wanted to do was play football. Fool! When I started school meals, I was put on the same table as Bingo and "fitzy" and became mates with them. They were a year older I was. Sadly Steve died in a cycling accident soon after leaving school. I only knew a couple of grammar boys. Steven Harvey who lived opposite me in Southcote Lane and Philip Baker. I really enjoyed reading your account of the school at that time. Excellent.

Happy Days
Again happy memories of my childhood in Reading. I attended St Michael’s Primary School in Tilehurst Having been a border line11+ attended E.P Collier School in Caversham. Oh Happy Days! Thanks Kevin for the memories

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good article

Mr. Stebbing
This article brought back memories of my 3 years at BISC. Mr. Stebbing was my eng language teacher all 3 years. What has stayed with me about him is how beautifully he gifted us the English language… he made it artistic and robust at the same time. And his handwriting was classy! I’m pretty sure he joined us for a few badminton sessions after school where I saw a different relaxed , jovial side of him. All in all I’m in gratitude of him and only wish the best in his soul journey!

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Bob Wood had a lasting effect on my life.
Hello Kevin, I really enjoyed your piece on Bob Wood. I remember him vividly as my English teacher at Oldswinford (1963-70). It's a peculiar fact that I have remembered him more than any other teacher, for good reasons. He created in me a lifetime's excitement with books, and also with the physical act of writing with a fountain pen. His reading aloud of 'King Solomon's Mines' had me enthralled. I couldn't wait to get to class to hear the next chapter. His love of Keats became my love of Keats too. I adored 'Cider with Rosie'. His odd facial twitching in class was endlessly parodied by the students, of whom he seemed only incidentally aware. He and Peter Mansell have remained with me all through my adult life, and fed my intentions of becoming an artist and musician. Bob had the most beautiful italic handwriting and would annotate our essays at length in his large red gorgeous characters, very carefully and slowly rendered. I loved to watch him write. He had a variety of pens for this, each yielding a different result. Peter Mansell introduced me to classical music. He played his record collection during art classes, and as a career artist, I do the same, thanks to him. He was also an excellent watercolor artist and that also became my medium. I was pushed out of the arts and into the sciences early at school, but my real education was already in place. As an aside: My daughter is a professional writer and artist, and in a way, thanks to those two characters.

Neighbours 1981 to 1983
Hello Kevin, we were neighbours to your mum from February 1981 to November 1983, having bought number 34 from the the son of Mrs Wiggins after she had passed away. We paid £17,250 for it and it was a stretch for us to obtain a mortgage for it. Our house was a mirror image of yours, and when we moved in it was un-modernised- still having an outside toilet, and a small bathroom upstairs. Rather than build an extension to the rear to house a downstairs bathroom, we removed the dividing wall between the rooms above the kitchen and installed a full bathroom there, so we had just two bedrooms. We then knocked the outside loo into the kitchen, bricked up the door and installed a window in the end wall looking out into the garden- I say garden, but initially it would have looked out into the ramshackle lean-to shed that had been built up close up against your mum's bathroom wall. When we removed this shed, it exposed the wall of your mum's bathroom which was not in the best shape. We wondered if it had been built when the shed was already there as it had not been pointed properly on our side. We spoke to your mum about this, and our builder rendered it for her. When we moved in there was a structure at the end of the garden made out of curved corrugated iron sheets that was being used as another shed. We wondered whether this had been an Anderson shelter. Anyway we cut that up and replaced it with a wooden shed. We can only remember there being one apple tree in our garden when we moved in and it produced a poor crop of not particularly nice apples, so we removed that too. Your mum was very friendly to us from the start, and gave us her old washing machine when she upgraded to an automatic one. It was a hot tub with an agitator and used to jump across the kitchen floor when in use, and had an electric powered mangle on the top. It was a great boon to us at the time as it saved us going to the launderette at the bottom of the road. We well remember your cat Monty as having a very powerful stare- when we first moved in he scared the life out of us when we opened the curtains to the rear sitting room to find him sitting on the window sill. On the other side of your mum's house at the time we lived there was John Wyeth's motorcycle repair shop. He was a friendly guy and would give me advice and help with the various old bangers I drove when they refused to start. At weekends there would often be large number of bikers hanging around outside his premises, but they never bothered us. We have fond memories of the first house we bought together in Hatherley Rd and my wife Tracy shed a few tears the day we left. Thank you for your interesting account of your early life "next door" All the best Paul