CHARNEY HALL Reflections from David R Johnson
Many thanks to David Johnson for this latest post
Charney Hall Reflections - David R Johnson - 1950 -1965
I arrived at CH September 1950, courtesy of my father’s acquaintance with Maxwell Duncan (WMD) at Pembroke College, Oxford, 1928/30.
The Isle of Man to Grange-over-Sands (GOS) journey was an adventure – 4 hours boat from Douglas to Liverpool, transfer (sometimes on foot) from the Princess Landing Stage to Lime Street station, and train to Preston, where safety, personified as A.B.K McCullagh ( ABKM) or Philip Fawcett (PF), shepherded us back to school.
Surprisingly I was not that homesick and usually got quite quickly into the rhythm of CH life, where the regulars, Hoppy, Topham, PF, WMD, ABKM and Raymond Hirst (RH) attempted to mould us callow youths into shape. Mr Fairclough taught music and played the organ at St Paul’s, and his famous line, in his strong Yorkshire accent which always cracked us boys up was “ Do you want to come down to the church and play with my organ…”
WMD was a bit intimidating and a few got caned – not me, but inside I believe was kind. I had a pronounced stutter and before I read the lesson in the Memorial Hall, he coached me in his study around the difficult pieces.
I was an OK student, but grinding out Latin with Hoppy, and Greek with ABKM was not my thing. Outdoors and football and cricket were, and I enjoyed the away matches, either tossed around in the back of RH’s splendid Invicta or squished in PF’s Humber, or WMD’s Rover.
I loved the woodworking shop and the smell of freshly planed shavings is still with me, as is the smell of linseed oil in the shed where the cricket gear was kept.
I still remember the top names of the first set of September 1950 – Turnbull, Ogden, Anderton and Wade, and I can put some faces to the names I see on the first set of autumn 1955, and I wonder where they all are and how their lives have gone. My parents rarely made it from the IOM for half term so I joined other “orphans” as we were referred to, staying at school. Some very kind mothers would gather up the “orphans” and welcome us into their families, much to the chagrin sometimes of their own son who was not that keen to have that particular “orphan” along for a family weekend.
My father made the trek a couple of times for the fathers’ cricket match and greatly embarrassed me by hitting sixes. He stayed at the Grange Hotel, a truly splendid establishment in the mid ‘50’s, and at the end of the day the CH parents would gather over cocktails for quite rowdy and boozy evenings.
When I left, with a signed Oxford dictionary in hand and the Facts of Life ringing in my ears, I would never have guessed that some 9 years later, September 1964, after Rugby and Oxford, I would be walking back up the driveway with a fancy black gown in my suitcase to teach where I had been taught.
This was fun, it really was and I loved it. I can’t remember much about what I taught or whom, but I was called “ Sir”, and ABKM and PF, my former teachers previously referred to as “Sir”, became John and Philip at the King’s Arms in Cartmel.
I think I was quartered on the first floor above the music room and the piano pieces played then I can still hum along to today, and I think I got £10 cash per week, all else found. The staff evening meal was always lively as the WMD and Babs exchanges could be quite entertaining after a couple of gins. Many boozy evenings were spent in the Lodge and staggering back through the cabbage patch was challenging. Matron, Hazel Brown (HB), had a Morris Minor which she lent me on my day off and I had wonderful trips all over Lakeland which were spectacular on a sunny winter’s day. Once I imported a girlfriend for the weekend, and when WMD figured out there was no real place for her to sleep - I thought he was going to have a heart attack!
Between classes I would hang out in the Common Room, and the furnishings were truly common and worn out. We would sit there in our black gowns and try and see each other through the thick smoke emanating from ABKM’s cigarettes, PJ’s and Fairclough’s pipes and I believe there was a military type who also had a large pipe. Fresh air rarely entered.
I got a job in London, and unfortunately had to leave before the summer term, but was extremely sad to say goodbye to a place, people and atmosphere I can say I really loved.
I was in Grange-over-Sands last July, and not much had changed except the school had gone…..
David R Johnson
February 2023
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