Kevin Mulqueen's Guestbook

Hugely interesting as an old foleyan 1979-1985
Very interesting to read about these teachers I am so familiar with from my time at OSH. I remember you also though I don't think that I was in many of your classes. I left OSH and eventually joined the RAF where I have been for 32 years now. Loved reading your blog and remember Peter Davies for his chain-smoking. As one of the few given permission to smoke in 1984, he also scrounged fags off me on occasion. Thankfully, I gave up smoking years ago. I also remember there was a 6th form club with a licensed bar! Bet there is not one now. Also it was all boys when I was there and now obviously girls and boys. The OSH website and pictures paint a good picture of a thriving school, will have to go back and visit soon.

Memories
Wow, really nice to read this as I tjhought about him the other day. Great Great teacher tho' as you say a little scary but you couldn't have anything but respect for the man. I can't thank him enough for the mathematics skills I learned and his encouragement to stay on with it to A level. if only I could recall what on earth a simultaeeous equation was, as I do remember spending hours trying to solve them. It would be really interesting to understand what his WW2 exploits were

Memories of my final year at OSH
Hi Kevin, thanks for sharing this photo - I "should" be able to name all the staff on this photo - however I fear the years have made most of them to sink deep into the recesses of my memory bank! I was caned by three I can name - but never by Mr Kruwowski - whom I easily knew from this photo. Yes he was tough - but never cruel - some teachers made an art form out of catching kids doing something wrong - I would swear they did it so they could inflict a good caning on the poor soul. It was WELL worth hedging your hand when Bradley caned you just to see him wince when he followed through and hit his own leg - it was normal to get an extra caning if you did that - I did it once or twice. It was a tough place when I was there - glad it has moved on from those days.. Mike Knight OSH 1960 to 1967

The World Without Us
2007 version: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_World_Without_Us

Foster's bat
Hi Kevin, Our paths never crossed - I didn't join OSH (as a pupil) until 1990. However, I do remember many of teachers you mention, and it's great to reminisce and get a different perspective of them! Also to see how much the school had continued to improved under Chris Potter! As children, we often don't see what's in front of us or acknowledge it's significance (or was that must me)? However, regarding RE Foster's bat in a glass case - there was one in Foster House throughout my time there, downstairs opposite (what was at the time) the Housemaster's office! Thanks for your blogs - and (thanks to another one), I finally know how Sid (sic) Naylor got his name - only 30 years too late...

I was particularly happy to read your article about OSH and to remember some of the teachers i met there in 1967/1968.I was at the time a French assistant at OSH and at the Grammar school down high street in Stourbridge(i have forgotten its name).and I lived in a small but comfortable flat in the school. My next door neighbour was Phil Price and Lance Naylor, Peter Davis, Len Krukowski, Terry Mahon and some others whose names I have forgotten, were boarding resident masters. Tony Kent, who was nicknamed "Kony Tent" by the pupils who had chosen to study the french language at O or A levels , was Head of the French department. I also remember Brian Kennedy who did not live at the school but who sometimes joined us when we drove in Lance's wauxhall Viva, for the exploration of neighbouring pubs.It did happen on the way back to the school that the driver, whoever he was, was invited to blow into the breathalyser. Fortunately he had been reasonable enough to do with a half pint. Very often when we got back to the Staff Room around ten thirty we had a bridge game, and Brian Kennedy who knew a few french words asked:"à qui c'est de bidder?" which had to be understood as whose bid is it? I didn't meet you,Kevin ,but I am very grateful to you for this chronicle of years long gone, for reminding me of the smacsing twelve months that I spent in Stourbridge.It enabled me to meet and get to know nice people and to improve my spoken English mixing with both the teachers and the pupils . As I was at the time only two or three years older than the pupils I could get the" informal" language on the one side and Peter Davis's polished English on the other. I could meet two specific characters : Mr Sheppard and Mr Bartlett . To me they fitted the descriptions of old style characters I had read in British novels. Miss Watson was another picturesque lady who regarded me not as a teacher but as a pupil until somebody in the Oak Room prayed her to mind her own business. Which chilled the atmosphere. It s a long time ago but the memories are still vivid in me. I am 73 years old and after teaching English in Morocco and France I retired in 2008. My wife and I had two children a boy and a girl. Our daughter married an english man and is living in London . We have two granddaughters aged 15 and 11.They are the sunshine in our life but with the strange times we are living we haven't hugged them for too long a time. Thank you once again Kevin and take care. PS How come Terry Mahon is not mentioned in the list of teachers? ,

Memories of Maurice Bradley, or "Brad"
I met Maurice 62 years ago. I was on a work experience assignment at an accountancy company in West Bromwich when he came across from his firm in Birmingham one lunchtime to chat with a friend of his who was my mentor. He promptly enlisted me into his circle of friends and came down to see me in Cambridge where I was a student. He drove me out to Ely Cathedral where we could explore his passion for ecclesiastical architecture. I often thought I should instead have showed him round Cambridge to introduce him to the College architecture. We remained friends and he took my future wife and me, and several of his Sutton Coldfield circle, off to the Lake District one wet Easter for camping in Langdale. We went on several climbing long weekends subsequently and remained friends for the rest of his life. He would often come and stay with us in London on his visits to the theatre for plays and operas. I was always impressed by his determination to expand his knowledge and he never complained about his lack of formal education, which clearly had been denied to him by his deep working-class background. His appetite for knowledge and improvement was voracious and insatiable: he was never without a very serious book to read, including as I recall Gibbons Decline and Fall. And he could sit down and sight read a piano score without mistakes, playing the opening of the Waldstein sonata and the Goldberg variations on my keyboard. But my abiding memory of him is of his indomitable toughness. He never seemed to be tired from the hillwalking, and at the end of the day would cheerfully fold himself into his van and cook a three course meal, all the while singing songs to defeat any possibility of depression at the grim weather outside. It was all the more surprising to see his sturdy frame begin to decline and his legs to weaken in his later years, and to see him becoming somewhat frail. He had great gifts for enjoying the mountains, for literature and the dramatic and visual arts, and was a true intellectual. But his greatest gift was for friendships, which he kept up assiduously over his and our lifetimes, and by doing so enriched the lives of many of us over the decades.

A great godfather
Lovely words about a true gentleman. "Uncle" Maurice was my godfather and a frequent, quiet visitor to my parents home and will always be part of my childhood and adult memories - the pipe he gave up every year for lent!

A wonderful man
Thank you for taking the time to write this piece. Maurice was an adopted Uncle to me. He is greatly missed. He shares a birthday with my youngest son. I will always remember him fondly.

A whack or two
I was slippered (two strokes) by Doc Holliday for talking after lights out in Founders. We always talked for a bit after lights out, but this time it was really late for 3rd formers, pushing midnight. I though it was reasonable at the time. I also took two strokes off Mr Tustin. However, we had a sport: In the lessons of a particular teacher, who I think it would be better to remain nameless, we would often bate the poor teacher until at some point he gave someone the slipper. On two or three occasions i was the one to get the slipper. There was some kudos for being the one to push him to breaking point. How cruel we were. As for Noote, by the time I was in Heath in the Vi lower perhaps he had given up his bat, as I don't think anyone was whacked. He did occasionally still give out alcoholic drinks in his study. I fondly remember the diversions where we would side track him in a lesson and debate some subject, sometimes until the bell for the end of the lesson, at which point he would profess annoyance that he had been side tracked. I now believe he very well knew where the time was going. In any event, it was much more useful to have lessons in reasoning than having an RE lesson. If anyone is wondering, Noote was called Noote from the character in All Gas And Gaiters. Probably because he taught RE and perhaps there was a very slight resemblance. However having seen the picture of Adolf, it is very easy to see how he acquired his name.

Putting names to the faces
Left to Right: Back Row: ??? / Noot (the legendary Peter Davis) / Mr Tustin (he taught Digging) / Doc Holiday / Pixie Price / Lettuce / ??? / Ying Tong (Mr Longstaff) / ??? Middle Row: Randy Roulette / Matron / Rango Rutter / Denis Haggett / ??? He taught art / BO Kennedy / Sid or Nutty Naylor / Staff / Staff Bottom Row: Kenny Issacs / Kruik / Harry / Is this Ray Milner? (other name withheld) / Spud (to be replaced by Adolf the following year) / The Grinner / Occus / Staff / Cud / Dosey Wood / ??? I think he taught maths.

I lived in London Street
Hi - I lived at 44 London Street from 1947 to 1953. Not sure when my parents lived there. Dad, Reg, worked for the owners of the property Kinghams the wholesale grocers.