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i am writing a book called kid of steel which includes my time spent on the newstead estate from 1968 until i left school in 1971...i only had one year at birley school before the country abolished the grammar school system and my final two years were at thornbridge comprehensive....

i have made notes from this thread...so if anyone has memories from their time spent in the area...i would be so grateful....

any school photos would be nice...or pictures of those good old vic hallam houses....

what were the houses called at birley school...

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Eastbank, houses at Birley School were: Corinthians, Spartans, Trojans & Athenians.

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Eastbank, houses at Birley School were: Corinthians, Spartans, Trojans & Athenians.

 

thanks for that...i only enjoyed one year at birley....before we joined up to make thornbridge comprehensive...then it all went down hill from there...

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Satchels - Part 1 of 3.

 

Zakes often wondered if the dinners at Birley School were created, then cooked on the premises, or if they were delivered, then warmed up. Nonetheless, he really enjoyed and was always truly thankful for what he was about to receive. Todays offering had been shepherds pie with all the trimmings, but he hadn't enjoyed the ever strange tasting cucumber that always reminded him of his cousin Daphne for one reason or another. The dessert had come second, and it was the thick set custardy Manchester Tart, that had been served up by a dinner lady called Colleen who was also a dab hand at Lancashire hot pot. Having quickly digested his meal, Zakes let free a supersonic, thunderful, ripping fart, the type that rolls speedily back and forth along any given curtain rail underneath a pithy pelmet.

 

Having unseated himself Zakes turned and made to leave the dining room, and wondered why there were at least 14 children on the deck picking up cutlery that had strangely found itself upon the floor. More oddly, why were 12 others scampering in panic to the far left wall where the black gas marks were limply hanging.

Entering the main corridor that led to the bowels of the school, Zakes heard the clacking of the typewriter through the door of the office where Miss Cayne the school secretary sat. She probably spent most of the day filing papers and her red, long, sharp, back raking fingernails, to fill out the time until 4 0'clock. Zakes stood outside her office in his maroon coloured blazer, and with emotions ablaze he gave the innocent door two sharp Terry Downes like straights to it's mid section. Zakes then pelted at full tilt along the corridor and was soon out of sight before the startled Miss Cayne could divorce her pert hind quarters from her chair.

A pair of minutes later in the boys bogs on the first floor, Pete Lax, Paul Ward (no relation to Bob or Stephen) and Zakes were having an after dinner ciggy apiece, and excitedly discussing how many dynamic dynamite sticks it might take placed under the headmaster’s chair to blow him to kingdom come. They came to the conclusion that it would take at a low estimate 58 medium sized 9 inch sticks. These sticks of explosive could be acquired on the sly from a man living locally called Alfie Nober, commonly known as Mr. Nobbler who had a secret stash on wasteland close to the back of Scriven’s Fried Fish, Chandler’s greengrocery, Dorothy Donelan’s Groceries, Brown’s Butchers and Brightside and Carbrook Provisions, shops on Birley Moor Crescent. Zakes knew the explosive sticks to be reliable because he had used some on five occasions whilst fishing at Frecheville Pond, when he had run out of maggots. Pete and Paul became even more excited when Zakes pledged to bestow upon them the honour of becoming his pals of the decade if the plan to obliterate Mr. Lines came to fruition.

 

During the first lesson of the afternoon session, Zakes had a quick lengthy scan around the formroom looking for a likely candidatess to take to the Rex pictures in intangible Intake in a few days time. The film to be shown was starring Hayley Mills and was called ‘That Darn Cat’. The film was about a feline repairing clothing that had holes, and Zakes was seriously considering taking some of his mum’s needles and cotton with him to that darned cinema in Intake, along with the lucky girl who would be escorting him.

 

Next time – Zakes’ competitors in class.

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Satchels – Part 2 of 3.

 

Zakes was financially unembarrassed at the present time and possessed eighteen shillings and seven pence. He had worked very hard to amass his fortune this past weekend. His Aunty Grizzelda had come to visit again, and this time she had brought a heavy chesty cold with her. On three occasions she had asked Zakes if he could oblige by rubbing ‘Fiery Jack’ and ‘Vickrub’ into her 58 inch pectoral, and on three occasions Zakes had obliged like a good boy that he was. Aunty Grizzelda was so generous, Zakes mused. Her two daughters Dilys and Daphne were Zakes’ cousinesses and he loved them all dearly.

Whilst Zakes had been gendering at his girly class matesses he had noticed some of the other lads had been doing the same. He wondered if they were planning to take some of the lasses to the Rex as well. Had they also come into some money? He felt quite certain that none of them knew of or had met Aunty Grizzelda!

Zakes would have to keep a close eye o his competitors who were:-

 

Mick Fukes – Athenian.

 

Mick was a lad who liked to take risks without thought as most left handed people tend to do. At times his gimlet eyes showed impish interest, and at other times he puckered his eyes creating three vertical lines atween his brows. He seldom smiled, and when he did his placid features blurred like a pond disturbed by a stone. Mick had a tidy appearance, but his school satchel looked like it had been tormented by rats. Lived on East Glade Way.

 

David Jackson – Spartan.

 

David was a lad not noted for his humour. He possessed a face that always looked somewhat wind whipped, and in unhappy moments he had a face that reminded Zakes of a clock at twenty minutes to four. David strutted about in the manner of an egotist, head up, shoulders squared. He was always dressed immaculately and his satchel shone like his shoes. Also lived on East Glade Way.

 

Trevor Lambert – Athenian.

 

Trevor had only one imperfection. He was in possession of a ‘tit lip’. His top lip hung down like one of those shapely well formed breast’s that one would see, if they cared to make the journey down to Borlini’s Bordello in Beighton, where Zakes’ dad worked as a bouncing bouncer. Trevor was very athletic and could gallop faster than a horse. He was the fastest 100, 220, 440 yards runner in Zakes’ year, and the best hurdler. Only David ‘Steptoe’ Stephenson and possibly Martin Hatfield (Spartan) could out run him in cross country running. Trevor was a quiet and very modest lad and never had a hint of boast about him. He often had an embarrassed look, and he always worked hard with his school work. Trevor also had a shiny satchel, and his appearance was also presentable if you didn’t look at his cake hole. Lived on Thornbridge Way.

 

Keith Widdowson – Spartan.

 

Keith like Trevor, also had summat wrong with him. Keith’s problem was he had a prognathous jaw which meant his lower jaw stuck out like a sore thumb. His nose was quite flat and together with the unfortunate jaw Keith looked like a ringer for the man in the moon. From the profile side of things Keith looked like he was well capable of chopping giant red wood trees down with his hatchet features. Chess was Keith’s game, and bloodly good at it too. Zakes defeated his mate at chess now and again, but Zakes suspected that Keith let him win to keep to the right or left side of him. Keith also had a well polished satchel and was spotlessly dressed. Keith lived on the same road as one of Zakes’ Trojan hero’s, Steve Secker, a lad a couple of years higher at school. They lived on East Glade Road.

 

David Stephenson – Athenian.

 

David had a tinge of olive (family Zakes couldn’t afford them) colour to his skin which enhanced his half decent looks. David ran like the wind when it came to cross country running. Zakes preferred to hang back with some others on Birley Lane to have a fag or two in the Hawthorn Bushes. What’s the sense in sweating and having lungs almost at bursting point? ‘Steptoe’ was studious in class, but also enjoyed a giggle or two with his mate Zakes. David and Zakes were the two lads who did the impromptu comedy weather forecasts in class when no teacher was about. David was dressed okayish most of the time and had a dull looking satchel. He lived on Thornbridge Avenue.

 

Next time - The Candidatesses

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Satchels Part 3 of 3.

 

The other classmates not mentioned didn’t have a channy with the birds, that’s why they haven't been mentioned. Tit lip Trevor and the desperate cow pie eating jaw, jaw Keith have only been included because birds being what they are, often go for something out of the ordinary. This is not a criticism, but a fair fact!

 

Zakes had now whittled down to three girls, one of which would be the lucky one to escort him to the Rex picture palace. Lynne Womek, Lynn Stacey or Lesley Whiteley. There could be only one winner apart from Zakes. The three L’s, eh!

 

Lynne Womek – Athenian

 

Lynne was a headstrong type who always thought she was right. She was slightly wider of face than the other girls in class, which possibly indicated that she had East European blood. She was from time to time very friendly with the ever optimistic Zakes, but only when it suited her. Lynne and Zakes had often argued in the past and she always turned out to be the winner. Zakes lost the arguments because he had always conceded, because that’s what intelligent people like him did. Lynne was to blame that time when Mr. poxy Knoxy had dragged Zakes by the hair downstairs to the headmaster’s office. She also lived in a non-corporation house which meant she wasn’t a socialist.

Lynne had a nice body and dressed well. Her satchel was slightly tatty and she can forget about any high falutin hopes of going to the pictures with Zakes! Lived at Thornbridge Drive.

 

Lynn Stacey – Athenian.

 

Lynn meant everything to Zakes. He would have set himself on fire for her if she would have requested it. Lynn once told Zakes (after he asked her why she walked so far to come to school) that there was a demarcation line which had prevented her going to a junior, then later a senior school in Hackenthorpe where she lived. Zakes had found this to be quite strange because two doors up from where she lived was a lad at nr. 54 called Martin Precious who had been in Zakes’ class at Birley Spa Juniors.

Zakes would have loved to invite the lovely Lynn with the confident mischievous smile to the pictures, but was afraid to ask her in case she said no, or refused him. Zakes was used to people saying no to him, but with Lynn it was different, he would have been distraught, possibly destroyed. The best thing, thought Zakes, was not to ask her, then she couldn’t say no. This was a situation where Zakes would willingly admit to being an acute sufferer of yittenitis.

 

This was such a pity, because Zakes would have loved to have sat in the dark at the Rex with her. He would have told her his made up secrets because he knew she would have been interested, because a secret to a girl is like fish to a starved cat. He had planned to bury his face into her dark hair, take deep breaths, then feel the texture against his face. Then it would be time to pass Poppets or those things that don’t melt in the hand to each other mouth to mouth, and that would be a treet. Oh yummy! Lynn had a gleaming satchel, was spotlessly dressed and lived at Jermyn Crescent.

 

Lesley Whiteley – Corinthian.

 

Lesley would be so made up when he invited her to the pictures, thought Zakes. Zakes and two pals of the week had once been to Lesley’s house, where she and Lynn Stacey along with Julie Hirst (?) were waiting. Zakes had on that occasion practiced kissing on all three of them and so now knew what to expect from Lesley at the Rex. Lesley had a fine pair of lungs, and Zakes would be waiting with bated breath to see if she would be wearing her satin lollipop pink knix in the flix. Zakes had chosen Lesley over all the other girls because:-

 

1. He had been scared rigid to ask Lynn Stacey, the one he really desired.

2. Because Lesley was left handed and Zakes was right handed. That way, if he sat to her right side in the pictures it would be less awkward and then they would both have easier access for whatever it was they wanted to access.

3. Out of the three candidatesses Lesley lived the nearest to Zakes’ home at Newstead Rise, which meant he would have a shorter journey home when he had finished doing what he had planned to do.

 

After the lessons of the day were over the excited Zakes cornered Lesley, by the cloak racks and asked her if she would like to go to see ‘That Darn Cat’ film with him at the Rex. Lesley gave Zakes a most succulent wet lipped teethy smile, then looked deeply into his blue seductive eyes with her lovely green eyes, the gently said, “I have been waiting for you to ask me Zakes, but you’ve come too late, I am going to the pictures together with Trevor Lambert and Keith Widdowson”.

 

Lesley had a loppy looking flea bitten satchel. She was dressed like a second hand rag doll, and she lived at Weakland Bloody Drive. Ugh!!!!!

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Those dinner ladies at Birley school in my time there, 65-68 approx. deserved a medal for the heavenly grub they put on for us undeserving brats. I really looked forward to shepherds pie, chips and snips, stew and dumplings (hello girls), meat and tater pie followed by manchester tart(s), spotted dick, bakewell tart(s), different coloured custards etc every day. The only snag was the salads with grated yellow cheyz because this would be dished up on Tuesdays and when us lads played football (for real working class boys, not like them bourgeois snobs at Thornbridge with their rugby and cricket) for the school team it was on Tuesday after school, when we got changed into our kit without the heating on plus the nervousness of the pending match we kept going to the lav and we tiddled (slashed) pink and that was the bleading beetroot fromt salad at dinner time!!TRUE STORY THAT. Remember them glasses we drank water outen? made in France, the name was inside, corroco or summat? More later.

Hello Zakes, Only just found this site. Very good read. I'm Terrence white who attended Birley school in 1965, my brother Paul white has been mentioned within your posts. I work with Mick Fukes who also attened the school at that time.

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Those dinner ladies at Birley school in my time there, 65-68 approx. deserved a medal for the heavenly grub they put on for us undeserving brats. I really looked forward to shepherds pie, chips and snips, stew and dumplings (hello girls), meat and tater pie followed by manchester tart(s), spotted dick, bakewell tart(s), different coloured custards etc every day. The only snag was the salads with grated yellow cheyz because this would be dished up on Tuesdays and when us lads played football (for real working class boys, not like them bourgeois snobs at Thornbridge with their rugby and cricket) for the school team it was on Tuesday after school, when we got changed into our kit without the heating on plus the nervousness of the pending match we kept going to the lav and we tiddled (slashed) pink and that was the bleading beetroot fromt salad at dinner time!!TRUE STORY THAT. Remember them glasses we drank water outen? made in France, the name was inside, corroco or summat? More later.

 

. . . and tennis and hockey. Now there's a mans game. Prepared us for colonial life away from the pits and factories and the dark satanic mills.

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Blitzkrieg.

 

Hey up Blue Bunny,

 

(A). As you have mentioned the names of your three brothers (post 133) I deduce you must be Christopher the second youngest, with Martin (nice lad) being the youngest. I feel it only right that I deeply apologise to the Hatfield clan for dragging young Martin down to the low level of larceny for which we were severely punished at the time.

 

The 1967 heist planned by me was perfection and I still pat myself on the back over 45 years later. We left no damage or evidence and it was sheer bad luck that a cleaner happened to come out of the lasses lavs just as we were almost out of the final door to escape. Regardless, I can assume you and I had a bloody good feast that evening in my bedroom, making it all worthwhile apart from the bit when I got expelled.

I say young Martin because I was older than him and he was younger than me. I was born March 30 (same day as lardy Paul Overhand) and Martin early June(?). I don’t remember all the exact dates of birthdays, but some I do recall. It dunt matter really because none of the wretched wretches invited me to their party’s, perhaps on parents instructions!

B.T.W. – Pal 1 on the heist operation was Paul White (a late stand in for Paul Ward who had decided to go rabbit snaring at Birley woods instead) who was my second best pal of the year and fellow mischief maker at the time, after Ralph Smalley who also lived near me on Newstead Rise. Ralph was a livewire of a lad, who had zillions of ideas, and we had some reight laughs in the time I knew him.

 

(B) Durin’t summer of 1966 I palled up with a lad from your year who became my pal of the holiday. My dad had warned me to keep away from him ‘because he was trouble’. Being a defiant little sod I didn’t heed dad’s words and became quite inseparable from this lad from your year for the next few weeks.

 

On one of those hot days during the fifth week I, along with this new pal and 2 other pals of the summer, became bored and decided to pay the sleeping Thornbridge school a visit. We never did like Thornbridge School which we thought was full of puffs. We also didn’t like the gozz, snot and wet bogey coloured blazers they wore either and decided something had to be done about it. We arrived at the lay by on Birley Lane and picked up loads of stones and other throwable items but were very careful not to pick up the used johnny’s from the activities of grown ups from the previous evening(s), then we entered the grounds of Thornbridge fully laden.

Standing within 10 yards of the school we four opened fire and fairly peppered them windows. It was like the Blitzkrieg re-enacted, the power and energy we put into it, and the wonderful feeling of elation was absolutely mind blowing. It was a feeling I knew so well because I had had it many times in the past, as many greenhouse owners in Hackenthorpe, Frecheville and Birley could , should and maybe would substantiate. We must of done at least 58 windows.

 

Being a hot day the people who lived in the area (top end of Thornbridge Avenue and the rear of the even numbered houses at the Birley Lane end of Thornbridge Road) would have had their windows open which meant they would of heard the sound of crashing glass at the nearby school. This includes the Hatfields, Otters, Needhams, Ibbotsons, Cuneos, MacGowans, Townsends, Clarksons, Houseleys, Liddells, and possibly the Stephensons, and all these families had children who went to Birley School.

 

Needless to say one of the other pal’s got recognized and it wasn’t long before the rozzers rounded us up. It became a court case and we four had to attend Renishaw Court (in 1966 we were still under Derbyshire rule) and were found guilty of the charge of willful damage. We were fined and told to behave ourselves in future. I was the youngest at 12.

The pal of the six weeks holiday lived on Newstead Drive and was called Trevor Davies. Know him?

 

©. You also mentioned names of other pupils you remembered. I knew Stewart May, he lived on Thornbridge Place or Close, Keith Fowler dwelt on Thornbridge Crescent haif way up, and I know the other names apart from John Bell and Phillip Brown……. their bad luck. I think Robert Page was the lad with a mass of untidy dark hair and he spoke very fast, in a manic way. Did you know Steve Kaye, Gary Bottomley, Neil Brown, Diane Cutts, Harry Hatt (Pin), Susan Cocker, Rosie Staniland, Pat Dodworth (she may have had a slight skin disorder?), and can you fix me up with a date with Kathryn Ibbotson who lived a couple of doors away from you? Lol.

 

(D). From all the people I remember at Birley there were 4 I recall who used their middle name instead of their original Christian name. This was not as rare as one might think. The ones I knew who did this were:-

Kathryn Ibbotson – Elizabeth

Anne Hayes – Margaret

Adele Stephenson – Julia

Harry Hatt – James.

 

There were more but I can’t remember everybody. I wish I could.

 

(E) Did you now Hotpot? What was his real name?

 

(F) Which house team were you in? I was in Trojan.

 

(G) Finally. Can anyone confirm that Mr Lines lived in Ridgeway where he died over 20 years ago, and is buried there. I am an unforgiving type who has had dancing lessons!

 

Cheers Chris.

 

Zakes.

 

It must be pointed out my stuff is copyright controlled!

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my view of birley school will be published on the 19th of november....kid of steel...shirecliffe for starters...birley for afters...book launch/celebration in birley hotel on sunday 25th of november at 5pm....

you are more than welcome mr zakes.....

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Smoking Is Bad For You, It Can Give You A Sore Backside.

 

If you recall I once mentioned that the barbate pigeon toed art teacher Mr. Tucker (Tinga to his friends) once caught me enjoying a well earned cigarette during the house teams sports day, then told me I was a disgrace to the empire. I also mentioned the time when Mr. Shimwell caught me smoking in the boys bogs then dragged me to Lines’ office by my collar. It seems to me that every misdemeanour had to be reported to the headmaster because the teachers were duty bound.

 

After the two above mentioned instances my world at Birley School became somewhat Kafka-esque because not long after, I was searched on three occasions by Mr. Lines, twice by Shimwell and once each by Fidler and Knox for fags. If they were that short of fags then they would have only had to ask and they could have borrowed a few. It got to the stage when I had to hide fags and matches inside my socks or hidden underneath wash basins in the bogs. I even on occasions would have a ciggie hidden in one of my fountain pens, minus it’s cartridge. The best way was to let somebody (classmate) keep them for me until the opportunity offered itself for me to safely indulge.

 

Harry often followed me along the corridor to see if I would be up to no good. As I was always quick eyed I would notice him but I could never work out if he wanted me to see him or not, maybe it was a form of psychology. On one occasion I went to the lav and once inside I turned around and leant against the wall. He sneaked (snuck) in and when he came around the corner I smiled and said, “Good morning Sir”, he scowled, twitched his nose, turned and went.

 

On another occasion I thought he was trailing me again. I chanced a second glance and just saw him disappearing into the staff room much to my relief. A few minutes later I was in the bogs sharing a cigarette with my summers hols pal Trevor Davies when Mr. Lines came in and caught us red handed. The sod had tricked me! We both got two strokes of the cane for this and worst still, Trevor had his smokes confiscated.

 

I remember one dinner time Trevor, Paul White and me were having a smoke on the playing fields well away from the school building. During the next lesson Lines came into the classroom and beckoned Paul and myself to follow him. When we arrived at his office an edgy looking Trevor Davies was already waiting outside. We were given a stern talking to and received a thorough caning. At afternoon playtime in the yard I sought out Trevor and explained to him that because the court case and now being caught and caned twice for smoking, it would be best if we kept away from each other for a while (I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was bringing me bad luck). He momentarily looked hurt but he did nod his agreement. We still remained friends……Distant friends.

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You can't keep a bad man up. Although i am 2 years younger than Pete Fenwick and Steve Secker i remember them from school. I seem to recall that Pete was a decent footballer and perhaps played left wing and had a strong left foot shot? And that Steve Secker was a decent basketball player ( i think Mr Matthews thought so too). Straining my brain now, i think Fenwick was in Athenians house & Secker a Trojan (like me)??. I reckon i saw them a few times in the Old Harra at the beginning of 70s when i lived at Gleadless Townend and i was suppin underage. Whitbread Tankard? Bah! Try bostic!

 

Just come across this post know Pete Fenwick & Steve Secker, Pete's lad played for United for a time, both he & Secker are good lads. I known them both 30 years from the Birley pub.

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