Owt 30 Old Wyves' Tales 30
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Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 4 (Issues 30-39) 30-1 OWT 30 OLD WYVES' TALES 30 - JANUARY 2004 THE IRREGULAR NEWSLETTER FOR WYVERNIANS PRE-1976 Edited By Dennis J Duggan, Rock Cottage, Brook Street, Welshpool, Montgomeryshire. SY21 7NA Tel 01938 555574 07985 405 365 [email protected] Web Site: www.wyvernians.org.uk Webmaster, Tom Horton: [email protected] EDITORIAL We have received no new members since OWT 29, and our numbers currently stand at 470. Of those, 270 have an e-mail address. The total figure includes deceased people and those who are, to all intents and purposes, dormant. Nobody with an e-mail address is ever deleted from the address book (unless of course they ask to be removed, which some do) because effectively it costs nothing to send them OWT and reunion invitations. Of the 200 without an e-mail address, some have passed away, others have said they have no interest and several do not receive postal correspondence from me because they never respond. Personally I think that is rather rude, but there we are. So 130 Old Boys receive their reunion invitations by post, and of those between 15 - 20 send me a supply of SAE's to receive printed copies of OWT. The number tends to fluctuate as more and more people gain access to a PC. OWT 29 was 'bounced back' by seven of the e-mail recipients. I sent them each a postcard enquiring if they had changed their e-mail address and was disappointed to receive only one reply!! Perhaps they have moved, or prefer to read the newsletters on the web site. Some people say I am too sensitive over such a lack of response, and maybe I am. All I can say is that I would reply if the boot was on the other foot. Last week, January 14th, I gave a talk to Welshpool WI. My subject was Wyvernians, and my experiences in organising reunions. It went down fairly well, and I took some small items from the collection to illustrate my talk. Poolians love giving, and attending, talks and slide shows and several citizens are 'regulars' on the circuit. There is an active social life in the town, with numerous clubs and societies with their attendant meetings and dinners. Some of it is quite parochial, but none the worse for that. Those of you fortunate to live in a small, thriving market town will know what I mean. FROM PAULWILLIAMSON 1957-62 (Editor's note. This item was sent to me in April 2003, but because it is not strictly connected with Wyvernians it was not published. But Paul took the trouble to write it, so here it is) Mick Stokes, Gez Fitzpatrick, Neton and twin, Gareth Mills, my son and I have just returned from Australia. I emigrated to Sidney by ship in May 1967, via the Suez Canal. We managed to contact two of my old mates. One is a reformed alcoholic, the other a manager with Auspost. We were postal clerks together at Maroubra PO. My other mate is in the Phillipines until June. We went to the Blue Mountains, Canberra, Snowy Mountains and Dandenongs through to Melbourne. It was a little noisy there. We had a hired campervan. I had forgotten that Melbourne still has the old trams. Then on to Adelaide, and I apologise for not trying to contact Robert Hastings in Melbourne. We watched a drive-in movie in Sidney, and at Adelaide we watched Australian Rules. The lady who sold us the tickets did not mention the balls came too close for comfort during kicking practice. The across the Nullabor Plain to Kalgoorie, a world-famous goldmining town and mining college. That day we did nearly 800 miles in twelve hours. There had been some rain and the kangaroos came out to drink, so a ©2012 Wyvernians – www.wyvernians.org.uk Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 4 (Issues 30-39) 30-2 little caution was required. On to Perth for a five day stay. We did almost 3,500 miles of hard driving, but the Mercedes diesel was well able to take it and used no oil.We flew from Perth to Melbourne, then onto Cairns in tropical Queensland, which is a beautiful place. We had three nights in Tokyo, two of them in one of those plastic bubble-capsules. I can recommend Japanese Airlines, but Japan is very expensive. I had done a similar trans-Australia trip around November 1968. Regards to Roger Gowland who I saw at the 2003 reunion. I don't know if Mr Pace is still alive. He did awaken me to the big world out there. FROM MALCOLM R DAVIES 1959-66 (Continued from November 2003 - ed) As to other happenings in the 6th form at Downing Drive (or in view of the poor drainage should that be DROWNING Drive?) we found the laboratories to be well-equipped. In the benches were racks of dropper bottles, designed to dispense small quantities of solutions. This was invaluable, as Doc Burrows used to hand out spot samples in small tubes. You then dutifully ran through tests using the chemicals to identify the four component parts of the unknown. I was handed a sample, but despite several attempts could only spot three and not four. I told the Doc, and he gave me a hint to check for halide. I went away to recheck, but the result was still negative so Doc returned to the bench to show me how it should be done. But his result was also negative! We moved to another bench and this time the result was positive. It appeared that a temporary assistant had been told to check the silver nitrate solutions because they had the trait, as used in photography, to darken in sunlight. This had been done, and the bottle rinsed and cleaned with distilled water. But for some reason it had been refilled with tap water, instead of silver nitrate, so gave no result when used in the experiment. I had begun to fear my chemistry career was about to reach a premature end - fancy not being able to find four components. In later life, in the water industry, a lot more than four had to be found, and levels evaluated down to micrograms per litre. One other item mentioned some time ago was the motor scooter owned by one B Thompson, which found its way onto the stage in the Hall. This was not a Lambretta, as claimed, but something wickedly known in scooter circles as a Crappy. The correct name for it was a Capri. It had a good seat for the driver, but the passenger accomodation was a square pad above the rear wheel. Brian was kind enough to give me a lift to Uppingham Road one evening, after I had closed an after-school library session, because my pedal cycle had developed two flat tyres overnight. To say that trip was torture would be an understatement. It was the sort of seat that made one mile preferable to two, and no miles best of all. Sorry, BT. The lift was appreciated, if only to reach the bike shop for a puncture repair kit before it closed. REUNION UPDATE If you have not yet replied to your invitation for 2004, and are in a position to do so, please respond as soon as possible. This applies even if you cannot - or do not wish to - come. We have once again booked the Everard Room and the Hall, with a buffet in the cafeteria, in the assumption numbers will be similar to previous years. But if that is not the case we might be able to manage with just the Hall, thus preserving our valuable funds. As you all have full details of the arrangements that is all I need say here, except to thank those of you who have already been in touch to say yes or no. FROM BRIAN SCREATON 1959-65 (Continued from November 2003 - ed) Malcolm Davies recalls the Lee Circle multi-storey car park (for some unfathomable reason originally called the Auto-Magic car park) This building also looms large (as it would, I suppose!) in my memory. With my partner-in-crime ©2012 Wyvernians – www.wyvernians.org.uk Old Wyves’ Tales – Volume 4 (Issues 30-39) 30-3 of those days, John Marney, I spent many lunchtimes going up and down in the lifts; but one incident was rather more senseless, even for me and Marn. One day, for art, Charlie Varley had us all out in the playground sketching the partly-built car park. He disappeared for a while - probably for a coffee and cigarette - so John Marney and I decided it would be a great wheeze to go up to the top of the unfinished structure and wave to the rest of the art class below. We somehow managed to get right to the top. These days I can't measure up a new house on a building site without a hard hat, reflective jacket and two weeks' health and safety training, but times were different then! We reached the top and stood on the edge. There was no guard rail, nor the concrete surround which now exists, so it was quite a toe-tingling experience. All the more so when we realised that one of the faces looking up at us from the playground belonged to Charlie Varley, who had returned from his break. We tried to saunter casually back down, but were met by an apoplectic Charlie, his complexion as puce as one of his shirts, who hustled us back to the playground.