Echoes of Wennington - A 2001 Odyssey.
by
Andrew Barker
1961 - 1968

I should probably begin by apologising for my typing and/or computer skills, which are just about 'zip.' So, having gained access to the Internet some time around mid 2000, the question arose 'what to do with it?' For a while, not very much…then I started delving into my past 'haunts' including Wennington. It was quite a few months - actually just around the turn of the year/century/millennium(2001)- before I found this site. I really enjoyed the reminiscences of Robin Sinclair, Dick Jones and Pete Ashmore, and I was soon contacting the site expressing a desire to 'incriminate' myself with my version of events. It took several attempts -usually interrupted by the assorted mundane occurrences that constitute my present life-to come up with this 'two cents worth' -and in the meantime, Chris Perks came forward with his notable contribution………

I was quoted in a 2001 newsletter as saying that I had maintained 'minimal contact with the school and/or anybody in it.' I certainly did have mixed feelings when I left, but I kept in touch with a handful of people for a few years. Since I was a student in Manchester in the late 60's / early 70's there were also several other ex-Wennington people I would 'bump into' fairly often. But there were some 'less than positive' issues involved somewhere amongst all this, and I became a bit over-aggressive in my neglect of the school 'and/or anybody in it'.

After Manchester, my contacts became fewer and farther between, eventually consisting entirely of 'chance encounters'-the most curious and (at the time) interesting of which was with one of the 'other' candidates for the position of Head; the job which went to Fred Sessa! The only time I experienced a large gathering of Wenningtonians was at the'89 reunion in London. Again, I probably only got to go there by chance, since another ex-Wennington pupil had been observing me walking to and from my place of work; rather than accost me, he tipped off the Association! I would not have missed it, but it was full of surprises-the most obvious being the amazing physical transformations of some of the people, set against others who looked more or less exactly as I'd remembered them, only older. My strongest impression was of the seemingly unreliable and inconsistent nature of people's memories (including my own, no doubt) so one hardly knew where to begin….It only came to life (for me at any rate) when talking about the past. I came to the conclusion that, while Wennington was a great equaliser, the pupils really came from far and wide-with some pretty diverse backgrounds, so it would only follow that they would go on to do some pretty diverse things afterwards……… I did have the impression that most of those attending were 'nice people' (compared to the population at large)-including a few who may have got 'under my skin' when I was at the school.

My initial contact with the school was through Kenneth Barnes' sister, who I knew only slightly, as 'Mrs Gyngell.' Wennington had been suggested as a solution to the various educational difficulties I had been experiencing. I may possibly have attended the Junior School had it not closed around 1960; my interview with Kenneth didn't take place till the Whitsun break (as it was then called) - around late May of 1961 when I was 11 years old. I was impressed by the Library, the Workshop (where one of the pupils was turning chessmen on the lathe), the brightly coloured rugs on all the beds, the sight of the tents pitched on the edge of the Playing Field (summer camping was allowed) and the fact that some of the Classrooms had been converted from stables! In other respects, the place might have looked a bit run down, but that didn't bother me unduly; I had no hesitation in accepting a place since I had heard so many positive things about the school already.

My experience of being a pupil probably begins at St. Pancras Station in London, waiting to board the train-and trying to pick out maroon blazers in the crowd. I would not have known at that stage that they were not the most popular item on the clothing list; and I only picked out one other person wearing one! Once on the train, I introduced myself to one of my new classmates, divulging the nickname that would 'dog' me throughout my entire stay at Wennington. The name had previously been thought up by one of the kids I used to play with in my neighbourhood but it only really took off at Wennington.

Arriving at the school, I was to be plunged into an atmosphere of excitement, bewilderment and chaos. When, years later, I saw the movie 'If'-depicting life in an English Public School, the atmosphere they portrayed of the beginning of term-kids, carrying trunks, running around in all directions,-was so realistic to me that it could just as easily have been Wennington. I was keen to know where people were from and also keen to hear some real Northern accents first hand. I was not to be disappointed but generally I had the impression that Wennington speech was fairly 'middle-of-the-road' and that anybody who arrived at the school with a strong regional accent either lost it or toned it down within a fairly short space of time. I remember my first mealtime-perhaps the first few mealtimes; I didn't have too much problem with the food (the food at my primary school had been truly disgusting; Wennington food fared pretty well in my opinion-though I would have welcomed better quality tea to drink!) I was most struck by the amount of 'bad language' I was hearing. I was probably wondering why-in such a 'utopian' kind of a place-did they find it necessary to still use it? I don't really think that the language used was any worse than that found in any other school at the time, however, that's what would have been going through my mind….. One individual, from the middle of the school was a bit excessive and did shock me; when, about three years later -he became my dorm-leader, shock had given way to mild amusement. His motto might well have been 'Why swear only once when four words will do?' Personally, I didn't swear very much in my first year or two-I just made up for it later on!

My biggest shock of all, however, must have been on my first morning. I had been quite a keen swimmer that year and had been eagerly awaiting 'Morning Dip.' At first bell, I arose and started following some of my dorm members to the Swimming Pool, swimming costume in hand……. I was told with some consternation that I would not be needing the costume since everybody swam in the nude! Whatever else I had heard about the school, they had forgotten to tell me about that! I didn't know whether it was a 'wind-up' or maybe some strange kind of initiation - I wasn't about to find out and abandoned the idea for the time being. I started the nude swimming the following summer (1962) but sadly didn't have the courage to continue with it in subsequent years.

Once I had settled into a routine, I perceived that the academic pressure was not going to be too strong to begin with, which was just as well because there were so many activities for an 11 year old that it was impossible to be bored. Most of my free time would be spent either exploring the woods or in the workshop, mostly the woods. I formed one or two short-lived friendships, but I was also content just to wander around by myself. Towards the end of my first term, I found a tree -an evergreen, probably a Yew, in which I felt confident enough to climb all the way to the top. It made a good vantage point, so I 'adopted' it for a while. On one occasion, close to the end of my first term, a 'couple' from the Fourth Form came to visit the tree while I was already up there; I was concerned for my safety in case I was discovered and accused of 'spying'-or worse….I had to maintain my silence until they left, which was probably after about twenty minutes.

After my second term, and after I had made some longer-term friendships, my time down the woods would be spent building dens and engaging in some not-so-friendly rivalry with one of the other 'cliques.' From my second year on, the woods would begin to assume less importance for me. For one thing, I started messing around on the piano and -intermittently- playing table-tennis (ping-pong) in the Common Room.( I always recall the atmosphere there as being good, with few arguments and never any need - in my recollection - for staff intervention.) However, one further episode down the woods, in the summer of 1963, is firmly engraved on my memory. Three of us were just messing around, but one of the other two had an air pistol ( I had been strongly warned not play around with such things; I contrived to keep as low a profile as possible and not appear to be too interested in such an apparently lethal weapon that was obviously not allowed in the school… However, I'm sure that my caution wouldn't have prevented me from 'trying it out' once or twice…). Anyway I was bent over a fallen pine tree (the previous year a severe storm had uprooted several of them) searching for something on the ground and presenting an ideal target. The kid with the air pistol just couldn't resist a shot! I felt a searing pain on my rear end (without the cord shorts it would probably have been worse) but all I could do was laugh. Despite the pain, I couldn't help seeing the funny side of it.

Taken over all, I would count my first year at Wennington as the happiest and my fifth year (O-level year) as the most exciting. The years in between - second, third, fourth - were generally very positive but not without their issues. However I would say that the Sixth Form experience (years six and seven) -despite high initial expectations, was a disappointment……

Continued...