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Hinde House Comprehensive

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Hi, so much time has gone by and most of the folks I knew in the dim and distant past will be nudging 50 by now. But..... I started

at Hinde House Comprehensive in Sept 68 and was finished by

July 70. But that short time is burned on my memory. David Tate, Stuart Lipton, Michael Humberstone. Mr Sagar was the form tutor.

 

Anyone remember me, I was recalled by my parents to Gloucestershire after a term of particularly rowdy behaviour.

 

Julian Sims

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I started Hinde House in Sept 1970 so you would have left by then.

I started with a tour of the school in July of 1970 and the teacher was Miss Fell.

When i started i was in Sorby, Miss Grigorian and she was my form teacher throughout and tought English.

I can't say i particulary enjoyed my time there but i have a lot of good memories of my 5 years there.

Mr Edwards was the head and Turner was the deputy head.

Crownshaw, Ridgeway and napier were all feared.

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Hi, and thanks for the reply. Yes you started basically just as I had finished, and had to start at a school in Gloucestershire which was a major cultural shock (not entirely positive). I remember Miss Grigorian very well, I suppose hundreds of years ago she would have been Persian, she was quite cool. But Edwards and Turner were quite the stormtroopers I recall.

 

Is it true that there was a riot at Hinde House early in your time there? I heard rumour that the kids threw the chairs at the teachers on the assembly hall stage and it made the Sheffield newspaper.

 

Cheers.

 

Julian

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Originally posted by Cycleracer

When i started i was in Sorby, Miss Grigorian and she was my form teacher throughout and tought English.

 

It seems like you weren't "tought" it particularly well :)

 

(sorry, sorry sorry, someone just had to do it!) :)

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Hahahahahah, nice one. I take it fair and square on the chin, perhaps I meant "taut"

 

Great way to start Monday morning.

 

Julian

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Actually Wickerman he was refering to me.

 

Anyway, about the riot, yesa the riot happened in 73 when all the school ran riot in the ground, i was actually stopped by a teacher and man handled back into the class room along with my mate and when the rioting pupils passed by the classroom on the outside i had to hide under the tables due to them shouting SCABS and it was very embarrassing.

It made the papers and the next day the school was back to normal.

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I remember the riot, I left that school in 1974, the headmaster had to be locked in his office, till it calmed down

I remember Mr Humberstone and music teacher Cecil Smith, who always wore his cape, I remember Mr Smith the maths teacher, who put the fear of God into me

My french teacher was Miss Pitts and a flasher used to appear in the walkway between the school and the graveyard

Mrs Hardy was the dinner lady that kept control in the dining room when we had school dinners

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I went to the wretched school between 1974 and 1978. The Miss Pitts referred to earlier was one of the very few good teachers. She was also extremely attractive to the male pupils [myself included] with a lovely, angelic face, long blonde hair and , well, there is no denying it, full breasts. In fact, the consonant of her surname should have been changed to another letter, which modesty prevents me from suggesting. She appeared to be fully aware of her sex appeal, and I remember her wicked sense of humour with affection.

Edwards is previously mentioned too. What a terrifying bully that man was. Fortunately, I never crossed his path, but I saw the despicable, cowardly way he humiliated and reduced to tears many of the pupils. He was a kind of bizarre, tall, Welsh Dracula who appeared in a long, swishing cape when least expected. Whenever he did appear, the teachers as well as the pupils seemed to freeze with terror. Yes, it WAS me who painted "Edwards is a *******" on the side of the gymnasium so that the school governors would see it the next day, when he escorted the party around his horrible, huge sprawling school.

The riot, or near riot, was before my time. However, in 76, on Sports Day, a most unfortunate, gangling young teacher called Wybrow was mocked with banners proclaiming that he indulged in self-abuse, pelted with eggs and chased by a mob of aggressive Sixth formers. "The poor man was terrified", said Mrs Lucock, the Art teacher.

What a dreadful, dreadful school. Fortunately, I went on to gain many qualifications after I left. Most didn't have my opportunity to redress their situation.

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Mr PT went to that school.

 

He left just about the time the school leaving age was raised to 16, and there was a cross-over time, where there was a fifth-form year added on, which he refused to stay on for, as he had already got employment lined up, to start on the Monday, after he'd finished the final (fourth) school year on the Friday.

 

Apparently, a form was supposed to have been sent home to parents to sign to say that they were in agreement to theior child staying on at school for another year. His mother had not signed it, and therefore he was not intending to stay on for this extra year. Well, what was the point? he had employment lined up, and he was going into a trade...

 

the teacher (i think it must have been the sadistic one, mentioned above, by a few of you) threatened to give Mr PT the cane. this man was a real nasty piece of work, from what Mr PT has told me. totally barbaric.

 

this teacher had demanded that he stay on, despite the employment and everything, and had been told "there's no point, I am at work on Monday morning!'

Mr pt said "if you come near me with that cane, I will break that rod, and wrap it round your neck."

 

the teacher approached, and raised the cane, Mr PT took the cane from him (He was built like a brick outhouse even then) and snapped the cane.

 

the teacher got another cane, and made to treaten Mr PT again, and he did the same to that cane.

 

and again.

 

the teacher had called for "back-up" from the other masters. they arrived and were going to restrain mr PT physically whilst this sadist administered the caning.

 

He told the others the same thing, that if they laid a finger on him, there would be trouble.

 

"You are only making these threats, to make an example of me in front of the other pupils," Mr PT said, " it's a futile and pointless gesture! I have three days left of school, and I am working on Monday. If you were to commit this same act upon me after the end of the week, it'd be assault, and a police matter"

 

"Touch me, and you will have ructions on your hands!" Mr PT walked out of the school, there and then.

 

PT

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Cheers Plain talker ; your postings are always worth reading. I am sure that we are talking about the same man here. He was a typical cowardly bully , full of confidence with timid children half his size. He must have been in his element at the school. I was fortunately not in his feared double Maths class. He would have CRUCIFIED me, I am certain. Apparently, he had no sympathy for anyone who found mathematics difficult [which, then, included me], and would mercilessly humiliate them in front of the class, which itself was cowed into total silence. There is a place for discipline, but he was without any shadow of doubt a sadist who despised his pupils.

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What a surprise to read all this, I have been in New Zealand since 1974 and not spoken to anyone about the old school.

I remember the name they called Miss Pitts, I remember the many pairs of knee high boots she wore.

I think the music teacher was Cecil Dowling, and the lady music teacher was Miss Smith, I have had to put my thinking cap on.

I remember some kids belting a hedgehog to death with tennis rackets on the football field, have things changed at all, surely it must be a better place to be, put me off school, and I left at the end of 5th Form

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Nsiebert, the battering of hedgehogs was a popular activity [i never joined in, honestly] amongst the more maladjusted and retarded pupils. Also popular, I am told, were trips to Shiregreen Quarry for frog-bashing, the details of which are too revolting and shameful to relate. On a pupil's birthday [this happened to me,once], older pupils would take them by the arms and legs and hurl them down the steep banks that surrounded the infamous "school". This , for some obscure reason, was known as "Barabas" after a biblical character. I was thrown only once, but I remember an unpopular boy being hurled down the banks fourteen times on his fourteenth birthday.

The sight of Miss Pitts in her mini skirts and boots was one of the few glimpses of beauty we were allowed. With a half-smile playing about her lips, she would instruct us in the finer points of past participles, pronunciation, etc, knowing full well that all the boys found her absolutely fascinating. If we were lucky, some fool would temporarily displease the Goddess, and she would sharply say "ECOUTE!", her eyes flashing. Ah, the blue, remembered hills of childhood as someone once said...

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