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A Cassian from the 60s

31/5/2019

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Hi - My name is Jon Chesterson and I suspect I may be an old Cassian from the sixties. I was born in 1959 and lived on the Old Kent Road. My first school at around 4-5 yrs old was Sir John Cass School in the City of London as I recall it then. My mother was a single mum and worked at the Mansion House and was awarded Freeman of the City of London. 

I remember well the little red season pass for the 78 bus, which I caught on the Old Kent Road, going round the Elephant and Castle and over Tower Bridge to get to school. Each day I had to make my own way to school and back and I had my own front door home key, as I was usually home before my mother - Hard to believe at the age of 5 yrs!

They were perhaps the happiest days of my childhood - I remember what then seemed to be the huge quad playground and tall municipal red brick building that towered above it. I imagine that is the heritage listed building of today, now surrounded by a few skyscrapers, very different from how I remember it.

I have attached a picture taken at the school, I believe it was either in 1964 or 1965 together with a poem I wrote a few years ago (alas personal but not one of my best). 

Apparently I used to write poetry when I was young, some were published in the magazine of the Preparatory School I attended from the age of 6 yrs in Sussex. I later attended Monmouth School in South Wales, founded in the reign of King James I, 1614 by the Worshipful Company of Haberdashers. Interestingly, I understand Sir John Cass School was also founded nearly a century later, 1710 in the reign of Queen Anne by Sir John Cass, the London philanthropist himself, Master of the Worshipful Companies of Carpenters and Skinners, an Alderman and Parliamentarian.

Later in life I started writing poetry again, having sadly neglected this fine discipline for far too long, and have begun publishing them individually in a number of anthologies under my pen name, Barddylbach or just AW. I hope to put together a full collection, my first book of poems this year, having only ever previously published a few book chapters, journal articles and one commissioned book, a modest social history, of sorts on mental health in New South Wales some years ago. But these things can be a little slow to materialise, after all what's the rush!

I am myself a 'young' grandparent of five children, sixth on the way, and four daughters, alas my mother never knew them - she died when I was 13 yrs old. In fact, the only reason I left Sir John Cass School as I understand, is because she had a stroke in 1966, being a single mum, she had to find me a Boarding school in Sussex. A school grant was provided with the generous support of the Buttle Trust in London. I must have had a cockney accent in those days before boarding school, which was 'elocuted' out of me! 

I have a very sad memory at the age of six of sitting on the opposite side of a London bus to my mother, on our way to Victoria station. I never wanted to leave her side but was so mean and angry with her. My memories of school were never the same again, since it was my time in London up to the age of 6 yrs, attending Sir John Cass School that held the happiest of all memories - My 78 bus pass was my passport across London, going to the Saturday morning matinee and regularly feeding the red squirrels at Greenwich Park in the afternoon. I remember too watching the Lord Mayor's show from a balcony of the Mansion House, and occasional visits to the markets at Petticoat Lane.

I now live in Australia, immediately outside Sydney in the Blue Mountains and expect to make a trip back to England in July this year. Times are very different from those foggy iconic and memorable sixties, locked away only in the distant memories of our imagination.

I look forward to hearing from you, if you can confirm I have made no mistake on the true location of my very first school, or indeed if you have any record or photos of the school from the sixties that may be of interest. So little of my mother and those times seem to have survived the rigour of this half century.

And thank you for listening.

Kind regards
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Memories from an old Cassian

3/2/2018

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Whilst waiting for a delivery to come through the office to me I went on your website – as I am an old girl!  Very old – about to retire!! I came to you when Geoffrey Barrell was headmaster, he seemed to be a big and loud man, but then everyone was bigger than me at that age.  He was very smiley!  I remember Mr Dove who took us on a holiday down Penzance way.  We had rotten weather so came back as pale as we went but he was not to be deterred – 5 mins from arriving back in the station he came round to each of us and pinched our cheeks hard to make us looked windswept and healthy – not something he could get away with now!!  There was a lovely elderly gentleman who was a part time Red Cross teacher – he taught us a lot.  My first teacher in reception was Miss Johns.  Goodness she was terrifying.  She wore brogues, thick stockings (with a hankie tucked in the top of them) and tweed suits.  Her hair was divided into two, plaited and turned into buns around her ears, she looked like an elderly Princess Leia!!  She was built like Ann Widecombe and stomped about when on playground duty – kids scattering to the four corners to get out of her way!!
 
My second teacher was Mrs Jensen, a total opposite, very motherly lady.  At the annual spring concert she taught us to dance round the maypole making many beautiful patterns.  However one year a John Wheatcroft (father in the Met) put itchy powder on the ribbons and in our costumes and we spent rehearsals in contortions!!  I used to love the Founder’s Day service when we all walked to St Boltoph’s church with many admiring glances from the public – Lord of all Hopefulness was always the first hymn.  I also used to love being on the roof playground – probably not allowed now for H&S reasons.
 
One year we were raising funds for a charity and there was a Woolworths just pas St Boltoph’s.  I won a competition to spend 10 mins grabbing things that we could sell at our sale.  Miss Niker accompanied me and we had about 3 store staff members help us back with what I had grabbed.
 
I now feel sorry for Miss Niker as I went on holiday to Italy and saw her on her hotel steps in Venice quietly reading until my dulcet tones were heard from a passing tourist boat “Hello Miss Niker, it’s me, are you having a good holiday?”  I expect she was until she heard that!!
 
Oh memories!! 
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The new Chief Commoner

21/10/2017

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