REFLECTIONS OF A FIRST FORMER – 1967 - Mark Johnston
There is a strong possibility that many or all of the following anecdotes and reminiscences may be up to 100 % accurate and could have happened exactly as I think I recall them, at least they contain no deliberate falsehoods, as George Costanza once said “Its not a lie if you believe it”.
I had been to the school a year or two earlier to attend the annual fete, an event which fell by the wayside to be replaced by non-compulsory fees a couple of years later; I seem to recall Mike Walsh and Little Pattie being there and was impressed by the school I would probably be attending. On that occasion I only saw Sydney Tech from the front car-park.
Well I remember entering those hallowed halls for the first time in 1967. It was not very long before I was suffering from acute Little-fish Big-pond syndrome, a malaise which would last for the best part of a year. I was perhaps more fortunate than some in that there were nineteen of my former cohorts from South Hurstville Primary and I also had an older brother in fourth form. Nevertheless, it would be some time before I felt comfortable.
Hurstville South Public School 1966
Teacher: John Dickman
Insets from 4A - 1964 Stephen Page and Peter Siers (with tie) – went to Opportunity Class
Back row: Glen Dolan, unknown, John Chapman, Mark Johnston, Ross Bradstock, Greg Cooke, Terry Gibbs, Stephen Candy, Keith Davies.
2nd row: Barry Smith? Ralph Woods, David Addams, Wayne Price, Bruce Ledden, Ian McKenzie, Graham Crew, Philip Redman, Anthony Stewart.
3rd row: Peter Shortus, Jim Funston, Stephen Singleton, Leigh Thomson, Michael Whelan, David Woodall, Ian Bennie? John Keith, Roland Dixon, Stephen Pritchard.
Front row: Paul Wright, Peter Styman? Geoff Yates, Richard Goldsworthy, Stephen Hall, Michael Anderson, David Nelson.
The names in maroon went on to Sydney Tech.
One of the first obstacles to overcome was the sheer size of the place, in primary each class had one classroom and one teacher but now we had to negotiate not only a labyrinth of large buildings but also our way around half a dozen different teacher personalities, not to mention the hazing by second formers.
On Brothers
Of course there were many siblings at Tech, however there were almost twenty of us in first form who had brothers in fourth form, surely some sort of record one would think.
I remember Alan Crew (Normie) played the drums, except for the dark hair he could have been his brother, Graham’s twin. There was Bob and Richard Goldsworthy who lived down near the red bus depot in Whitfield Pde, Hurstville Grove over the road from Greg Thomson, Thomo to his mates, and Leigh.
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Jonathan Page
Check my machine. |
Everyone remembers Jonathon Page, the guy who built a Van de Graaff Generator out of old beer bottles and then won an essay award by accusing contemporary science of being the scourge of society run by an amorphous mass of bibliophilic, white-lab-coated beaker boilers. His brother Stephen was in our year and also at South Hurstville until he went to the O.C.
I recall Stephen (Gumby) Gard, firstly as a mate of my brother’s and later as a brother of one of my mates, an accomplished musician who was written up in Go-Set magazine as one of Australia’s best guitarists, also some recollection of Paramount shirt ads, but was it Canned Heat or Donovan? * Gard adds: I got a Go-Set mention, yes, but no ranking as a guitarist. This is how myths are made!
Preston (Pep) Dunn was taken from us way too soon, I remember at the time feeling very awkward around his brother Rob, not knowing what to say. (that may have been a year or two later).
Victor Nossar was another old boy of South Hurstville and while neither of his brothers was in my year (George was a year ahead and Igor was a year behind) I still recall each of them. Victor was one of the “Quiz Kids”, a radio and then TV show from the Sixties in which viewers would send in questions for the young panel. I think Jon Page may have been of that ilk?? Does anyone remember?
A couple of others who didn’t have brothers at Tech that I know of but I remember as two of my brother’s best mates; Bruce “Beaky” Lees was a lead singer but one thing I remember him for was down at Quarry Park one day when he place kicked a goal from half way on the sideline wearing desert boots. Robbie Taylor was the original long-hair of Sydney Tech paving the way for the rest of us. I thought he looked like Brian Jones from the Rolling Stones.
Now, I don’t know where this is coming from, maybe I’m making it up on the spot or maybe I’m releasing a repressed memory, whatever, here it is.
Chris Johnston and Robbie Taylor are struggling across the quadrangle under the tremendous weight of their Globites, heavy lead weights similar to those used as a counterbalance for the large sash windows of the main block are ensconced within. Obviously they have just found them somewhere and are attempting to return them to their rightful place when their progress is arrested by one A. Cooke (he of the large eyes).
“What is in those cases, boys”?
“Well sir, we have a double science class today and we had to bring both of our Messels texts on the same day”
“All right, carry on”
(Forgotten about your Harry Messel HSC Science text book? Hardcover, blue, thick as a house-brick, weighed about six stone? Why do you have one arm longer than the other?)
There were many others I knew to lesser degrees but it was somehow comforting to know or at least to think that your friend’s brothers or your brother’s friends would stick up for you, in retrospect this thinking was, of course, totally delusional as most of them probably couldn’t pick me out of a line-up from the proverbial bar of soap.
On Teachers
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| Mr O'Connell |
My 3rd class teacher was Miss Kerr, she was very kind.
My 4th class teacher was Mr. O’Connell who was born sometime in the 19th century (literally), he was firm but fair and a real grandfather figure.
In 5th and 6th class I had Mr. John Dickman who was possibly the best teacher I have ever had. It was like being taught by a much older big brother or young uncle, not that he would let you get away with anything, he wouldn’t.
I didn’t appreciate it at the time but I think he instilled in us a love of learning, he encouraged debate (I remember one on the Vietnam War or Indo-Chinese conflict as it was known in 1965), he allowed us to listen to the A.B.C. radio current affairs programmes, I recall one class where we were all members of parliament, all very progressive for the times. And a great sense of humour.
And then
First form 1967
English, Ray Hadrill, doesn’t get much scarier than that. The following dialogue may have actually happened, only one of the names has been changed to protect the guilty.
Hadrill: I can hear you talking, Mr Johnston, could you please keep quiet?
Johnston: Sorry sir, yes sir.
About five minutes pass.
Hadrill: Mr. Johnston, didn’t I tell you to shut-up?
Johnston: No sir, you asked me to keep quiet.
Mr. Hadrill’s neck begins to turn a pale crimson
Hadrill: Well now I’m telling you to shut-up.
Johnston: Sorry sir.
Another lapse of five minutes.
Hadrill: JOHNSTON, if you don’t desist immediately you’ll be spending the rest of this lesson outside my staff room, and believe me, it's hellish cold out in that corridor.
Johnston (innocently): Sir, if it's hellish wouldn’t it be hot?
Mr. Hadrill’s neck and face have now apoplected a curious shade of beetroot and cobalt.
Hadrill: GET OUT.
(I know, I know, 'apoplected' isn’t a word, but it should be!
Maths, Ralph Satchell, stop picking on me.
Maybe its just normal, healthy paranoia but, I swear he is always singling me out, I used to be good at arithmetic, last year I got 99/100 for written arithmetic and 100/100 for mental arithmetic, doesn’t he know that, is he not aware of how fortunate he is to have me in his class, what is his problem?
Science, Mr. A. Cooke (frog?), I want to go home. Those eyes, those eyes, will they never blink? I’m trying to learn the periodic table here, isn’t that what you want me to do?
Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, don’t look up, don’t look up, Boron, Carbon, don’t look up, Nitrogen, Oxygen, don’t look, too late, you looked up, he’s staring at you with those enormous eyes, no, wait, he’s staring at everyone at the same time, how can he do that? Who is he, the Mona Lisa? Where was I? Hydrogen, Helium, don’t look up - no wonder I never got to Fluorine.
Language, Fin Cook and Mrs Bechard, help, I’m suffocating, enough said.
And then, the one and only saving grace in my first year, Mr. Reg Byrne (see my comments on post by Paul Feldman, July 2010).
On Music
It has been said that music soothes the savage breast, unfortunately in 1967 music was something that would widen the generation gap, especially between teachers and students, an unusual anomaly considering some of the teachers were only a handful of years older than us.
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Mr Gormley
Pipe, beard, corduroys - what more do you want?
The Yardbirds. Okay. |
In 1967 I was listening to The Beatles and The Stones, Eric Burden and the Animals, The Yardbirds, The Troggs, Manfred Mann, The Byrds, Jefferson Airplane, Them, Cat Stephens, The Grateful Dead, Bob Dylan, Donovan, Peter, Paul and Mary, Jimi Hendrix, The Lovin’ Spoonful, Otis Redding, Vanilla Fudge, Joan Baez, The Kinks, The Band, Procol Harem, The Hollies, Arlo Guthrie, Judy Collins, Cream and the 5th Dimension, also Australians like The Masters Apprentices, The Easybeats, The Loved Ones, The Purple Hearts, Ray Brown (who lived in Hurstville) and the Whispers and Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs to name just a couple.
The only thing I can recall of Mr. Gormley’s music class was being made to sit silently and listen to a recording by the London Philharmonic Orchestra of Beethoven’s 5th and trying to identify each instrument being played. Where’s the fun in that if you don’t like classical music?
Nowadays I am still listening to a lot of the music I enjoyed in the 60s as well as much more modern stuff and also a lot of “old” blues and gospel (1940s and 50s) like Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, Lightnin’ Hopkins, Billie Holliday, and the Blind Boys of Alabama; ironically I also love to sit quietly with my eyes closed and listen to a good classical recording.
On Reflection
Something which has occurred to me only recently; the average teacher has an above average intelligence, the entry level to be a student of Sydney Tech was to be of above average intelligence, therefore, by definition, the average student was smarter than the average teacher. Q.E.D.
Cool, unless you are now a teacher! Is it any wonder that we knew how to press their buttons? How could any teacher hope to compete with an intellect like a Jonathon Page, I doubt there were more than a handful (of teachers) who could comprehend what the “Captain’s Message”of 1969 was all about.
Of course he wasn’t alone, each year produced its fair share of professors, doctors, lawyers, scientists and C.E.Os.
On the whole 1967 was daunting but exciting and I am looking forward to 1968 when I will be able to pick on some first formers.
