Watford Boys’ Grammar School – the 1T register 1967/68

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Austen, Beattie, Bickham, Brewer, Carter, Colyer…yes, I can still get over halfway through the 1T to 4T class register, hammered into my memory by four years of repetition. I struggle after McKenzie. No matter, I have other sources to draw on. Like the 1972 O-Level results.

In those innocent pre-GDPR days, every boy’s exam results were printed on to a single document, which was circulated to all. No hiding place – I know your grade in History, even if you don’t.

On a sunny September day in 1967 we gathered in Hut 2 – “temporary” extra class space which had already, I suspect, outlived its expected life. We were nervous but excited, and Cedric Jones, our class teacher, was a kindly and reassuring presence. We were broken in gently: the first day was given over to admin and orientation.

I was, I suspect, more nervous than most: although seven of us had come to Watford Grammar from my primary school, Watford Field, none of the other six had been placed in my class. And although we had been told that long or short trousers were acceptable school uniform, only one other boy – the shortest apart from me – was baring his knees.

But I settled in quickly: on the first day I met a boy who lived in the same road in Chorleywood as I did – he shared a lift to school with us on the second day, and we soon became best friends and weekend companions. Before long my Mum fitted me out with long trousers. And some encouraging early test results boosted my confidence.

The ‘T’ in 1T stood for Travellers: originally a house reserved to pupils who had to travel a long distance (over about three miles) to school, but now it was just a name – some boys lived very close by. The other classes were 1B – Bushey, 1F – Fuller, and 1N – New. A fifth house, Cassio, was introduced in 1968/9. As far as I know, the new intake was assigned randomly to these classes.

We were the first year to start at 1 – previously the 11-year old intake had been assigned classes under an archaic system starting with 3, followed by a couple of letters from their form master’s name. As third years, they were habitually described en masse as turds – a charming term which survived the introduction of actual first years by quite some time. To complete our shame, first years were the only boys required to wear school caps.

Anyway, we all love a vanity search, or at least the vain ones among us do. So I post the names here wondering whether some of that storied class might find their way here. I have probably inadvertently omitted some boys, and misremembered some first names. Perhaps even invented some. Three boys listed didn’t start in September, joining later in the school year. I know that at least one of that class is sadly no longer with us.

I’m still in touch with a few Old Fullerians, but only one from 1T-4T, 1967-71. If you land here please do say Hi in the comments or using the contact form. I hope the last nearly 52 or so years have been kind to you. And have a great 70th birthday. Although you’ve probably already celebrated it.

  • Mark Austen
  • Roger Beattie
  • Mark Bickham
  • Stephen/Steve Brewer
  • Simon Carter
  • James Colyer
  • Peter Davies
  • Simon Day
  • Martin Eames/Primo
  • Philip/Phil East
  • Mark Edwards
  • Richard/Rik Edwards
  • Paul Fessey
  • Andrew Hogarth
  • Paul Jackson
  • Martin Jarritt
  • Martin King
  • Charles Lamb
  • Robert Loudon
  • Julian MacKenzie
  • Richard Marsden
  • Neil Marshall
  • Peter McKenzie
  • Derek Rook
  • Jonathan/Jon Ross
  • Charles Saunders
  • Philip/Phil Sellwood
  • Paul Smith
  • Robert Tadman
  • Kevin Thomas
  • John Thurlow
  • Martin Williams

2 responses to “Watford Boys’ Grammar School – the 1T register 1967/68”

  1. obbverse Avatar

    Sorry Rik, not an old schoolmate catching up, just a late coming lower class twit. But I’ll toss in a thought or two since we’re roughly the same… vintage sounds better than age.

    I too was the only one in my class who came up from the old primary school. There was about eight or nine and we all were weeded out into seperate classes. (My primary school bully/nemesis luckily, thankfully didn’t make the grade I was in, and before the first month he found himself (retro)graded down the Remedial Class. I hope his classmates didn’t bruise easily.)

    To be given a full day to orient must have been a blessing. We got a stinking Gestetnered map that soon smudged and disintegrated in my sweaty panicked hands. All the lofty teachers didn’t have time to direct another little lost turd , and all the older boys delighted in directing us to the older Girls loos, where we got choruses of hazing comments about our acne, bobbing Adam’s apples and knobbly knees. Ah, hap- crappy days.

    I hope you do catch up with some from your past classmates Rik. Those were memorable days, and the lessons we learnt there weren’t all textbook. But when you learn the hard way them learnings tend to stick in the ol’ noggin. (Unless you were on the end of one of my ol’ compadre Tommy (Bully Boy) Gilroy’s back of the head concussive slaps.)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Rik Avatar

      Thanks o, typically colourful and insightful comments. Just a small experiment really – in the past I’ve had surprisingly wide reaction when I write in relative depth about something quite niche, like my old school.

      Liked by 1 person

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