My Memories of the Beginnings of the
Technical High School
Lorna Eedes (now Lorna Selby) has sent in some of her
recollections of the very beginnings of the school. They cover
the period when it was all very new, and the "Tech" was neither
understood, nor was it running with a full complement of staff.
She has sent two recollections, one about arriving at the school
for her first day, and the other about being one of the first to
enter the sixth form.
A Blast from
the Past - a former student looks back to THS earliest days
I remember the Technical High School from its distant beginnings.
In fact, being in the second intake of this ‘new’ school, I can
remember some of the very first students from the year before me,
like Christine Short and Christine Rush, whose sister Edwina was in
my class. Apart from appearing on the school photograph, where
are they now? I am quite sure few people will remember me
since I developed in later years into the class ‘swot’. Anyway,
here’s how it all began for me.
That dull September morning in 1947, among a cluster of nervous
11 year olds I passed through the impressive doors of our new school
on St George’s Avenue. I personally knew nothing about the
place, except that it was the same as the next door Grammar School
with the added virtue (in my mother’s eyes) that it included
practical & commercial subjects – ‘Just think, you will always be
able to get a job’. As we followed Miss Wilkinson, School
Secretary, along the corridor that morning I noted with alarm the
large glass display cases, a complex model ship in the first one,
and privately felt it was unlikely I would ever achieve such skills.
From the start I loved that school; partly because it was to be
the first time I would stay in one school for more than a year.
We 11 year olds were leaving behind the sad grey war years and sad
single ladies who taught. In this one long corridor of rooms
we were to spend five Technicolor years with lots of fun, interest
and hard work too. We were mixed up in our classes, boys and
girls, usually about 25 to a class I think, except later when we
split for our specialist subjects. We had a wonderful mix of
teachers with individual characters, styles and accents. Miss
Catlin (warm and encouraging) and Miss Stanford (calm and elegant)
were models of what we girls might aspire to; my attempts to imitate
Miss Stanford’s gliding manner of walking affected me for years.
The male staff were mainly young, some showing through their tics
and mannerisms the stresses of past service life. And Mr
Howard, headmaster, the quiet and unsung hero who created that
school watched over it all.
The first year was hard. We were all similar in ability and
competitive and it wasn’t till the second year I began to feel a bit
more confident, especially in new subjects like French which
suddenly ‘clicked’, to Mr Tomkins’ surprise.
In our mixed groups, eg history and geography, we girls were
always streets ahead of the boys and at times we almost felt sorry
for them. I can see now the impassive Mr Johnson entering the
classroom, launching into his topic with dead-pan expression, all
the time gazing at a point on the wall just above the head of the
middle person on the back row. He would continue talking and
looking at the that same point while threatening particular class
members (usually a boy) without changing tone or speed, so we knew
he had exceptional powers of observation.
Staff were probably as anxious about what was expected at ‘O’
level as students were, since it was a new system taking over from
the old School Certificate. I don’t know when exactly
‘Commercial’ students started shorthand, bookkeeping and typewriting
classes, perhaps in the second year, but they went badly. We
behaved outrageously with the hapless male teacher (on loan I think
from the College), making his life a misery and us learning nothing,
until things came to a head (or should I say, ‘the Head’).
Possibly in year 4, Mr Howard decreed we would not be allowed to
take ‘O’ levels in Science (no more tales from Taffy Newell about
Richard Burton/Sybil and that other woman Elizabeth) or in Art (no
more exciting mornings in the Art School). We were really
disappointed but it was our own fault. That time must now be
given over to extra study in commercial subjects to compensate.
Fortunately, a new and charismatic male member of staff (ex
sea-going steward and qualified secretary) managed to persuade us
shorthand was the best of all subjects, closely followed by
typewriting and bookkeeping. Through his skill we came to
thoroughly enjoy them and the school was saved from embarrassment
when the ‘O’ level results came out.
Sixth Form –
What Sixth Form?
Although we did not understand it then, the early 1950’s was a
special time for young people. Optimism was in the air. New
opportunities were opening up that had never existed before for
ordinary working-class youngsters. All the school staff, even
the caretakers, constantly urged us to think about staying on to do
further study, since scholarships and grants now meant anyone could
get a University education if they had the ability. This
enthusiasm was infectious. Although plenty of my classmates
could have easily done ‘A’ levels, in the end I was the only girl
from my year to turn up at school in the autumn of 1952 to join the
6th form.
But where was the 6th form? Studying ‘A’ level English meant
joining a disparate group of part-time Technical College students,
in a remote part of the building, taught by one of their own staff.
At least Mr Wright taught the French, and Pip Harris Geography.
I disliked spending so much time working alone, and felt no part of
any group.
When it was discovered I needed ‘O’ level Latin in order to do
French at university, there was general consternation - no Latin was
taught in a school like the Technical High. Eventually, Mr
Lewis, (a Phys Ed teacher), ‘volunteered’ to teach me. He was
something of a magician because, on the basis of a couple of hours a
week (in stock rooms, spare classrooms, wherever…), he got me from
nothing to ‘O’ level Latin in under a year! Not many sports
teachers would have agreed to try that and I owe him a lot. So
I entered the second year with that subject under my belt.
But by then my interests were straying outside the classroom.
Audrey Hepburn influenced our style (button-up cardigans worn
back-to-front, cinched waists etc) and Bill Haley had cinema
audiences rocking in the aisles. I went to the underground
rooms of the Gaumont to learn to jive, and put it into practice at
the weekly ‘hops’ (run by the Students Union, I think) at the back
of the College. Sunday afternoons were the time to dress up
and saunter along the ‘Bunny Run’ (Abington Street) where boy could
meet girl. I was fast losing enthusiasm for earnest solitary
study but I carried on.
It was obvious when I started going for university interviews
that they had no idea what a Technical High School stood for, and
were very sceptical. I remember reporting back to a furious Mr
Wright the sort of questions I had been asked by interview panels:
‘What kind of French do they teach in a Technical High School? Do
you just learn to speak it?’ They seemed surprised to hear we did
the same ‘A’ levels as everyone else.
A common question, to reveal your intellectual environment I
suppose, was ‘What newspapers do you read at home?’ There
clearly was a ‘correct’ answer. The occasional Reveille & News
of the World were not it.
 A
major university awarded me a place. A week later I wrote back
and turned it down. I can remember now how horrified Mr Howard
was when I told him what I had done and his reaction shocked me.
But instead of walking away at that moment, he decided to take me
firmly in hand and in the autumn I set off reluctantly for Hull
University. I did not know then how lucky I was and what a
fascinating, exciting time lay ahead.
Only much later have I begun to realize just how much the success
of students mattered to those dedicated staff. I did go back
to the THS on St George’s Avenue to thank them when I graduated in
1957. They were busy, preparing to move to the new Trinity
site. After that visit I left the area and never returned.
I am sorry about that, especially when I read Mr Wright’s retirement
article on this website, proudly remembering ‘the first former pupil
who obtained a First Class Honours University Degree’, because that
former pupil was me.
Lorna Eedes B.A (Hons), PGCE, M.Sc. (Man Sci)
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