through the eyes of a Bradford boy

by

Frank Foster Bradford, 1958 - 1962

Francis Anthony Meerendonk was born in London on 21December 1905.

Francis Foster was born in Oxford on 21 July 1945. This will be my recollection of my time on the Hill and I dedicate it to both Francis and Gladys Meerendonk who did so much for me and many other boys in Bradford.

I first went to the Hill on 13 May 1958 for my entrance Exam. In the morning I had a short interview with Mr EC Cooper, the Warden. After a sandwich lunch taken in the Hall, the boys were sent to various classrooms to sit the exam. I can only remember being asked some algebra questions and thinking that Algebra was a country! I must have done pretty well because I was accepted as a pupil.

Bradford House 1960 (Click image to enlarge)

My mother signed the acceptance letter, witnessed by our neighbour of long standing. Full fees of £100 p.a. were paid by the local authority, and I was instructed that term commencing on Thursday, 18 September 1958. I would be in Bradford House and the Housemaster would be F.A. Meerendonk Esq. One shilling was the suggested pocket money, which was good for me, because I had never had pocket money before. I had had to earn any money I got. I still have the original letters with the above detail on them.

I had until then only spent one night away from home with an uncle and aunt and their kids, plus a whole week in a foster home while my mother was in hospital having an operation. I was both looking forward to going to school and at the same time in utter dread of it.

I got to KHS mid-morning and first met Mrs Meerendonk. She soon took me to the clothing store where we met Mrs Dean, and we set about fitting me out with my school uniforms. Another boy was there and I laughed when I saw him trying on a pair of short trousers. He was a big lad. The smile disappeared when I realised that I would be 16 before being allowed to wear long trousers.

A grey suit, blazer, shirts, jumpers, socks (long), short grey trousers, a coat, underwear, shoes, slippers (with zip). I had never been in possession of so many clothes before, especially new ones. We got back to the House and Mrs Meerendonk's task then was to stitch my house number onto all of it. "You will be number 22" I was told. That was my number until I left school. I was given a locker in the common room, and a yellow tie. I was a Bradfordian now for ever!

Bradford House

Much of the first day remains a haze. Until bedtime that is. I had brought with me two pairs of lime green pyjamas. Did they stand out. Although no one laughed at them, but my face must have gone a bright red. I was always quick to blush. I resolved to ask my mother to swap them urgently for a 'normal' pair.

The boys in my dorm of nine plus a prefect were a good lot. They mostly talked about what they had done in the holidays. I lay there in my bed listening. My first night on the Hill.

The following morning saw more of the routine which I would follow for the next four years. Up at 7, house jobs, wash and up for breakfast. Classes. My first form was Upper 2, with Mr Wetherill as form tutor. He was a young master and it was his first term as well. He was the Music teacher and organist. I immediately liked him.

What took me some time to adjust to was that we did school work on Saturday mornings. That was offset by not having school work on Monday, Wednesday or Thursday afternoons. Mondays was for CCF or Scouts. I opted for CCF as my older brother was at that time a serving soldier.

Mr Wetherill

Wednesday afternoons were taken up with sport. I learned how to play rugby. I loved it. I can still smell the special smell of the turf and mud being churned up now that I only watch it on telly. It was later on that first term I was playing and hurled myself into a flying tackle bringing down an older boy in a text book tackle. A few nights later I was called from my bed to see Mr Meerendonk in his sitting room. He congratulated me on being picked for the School Under 14 XV. This was indeed an honour. I had represented a former primary school at athletics, but never dreamed of this. I went on to represent the School at every level. U14, U15, Colts and 1 st XV.

Frank Foster

Thursday afternoons I joined the Printers Club. I don't know why. I stayed in it for three years then joined the Gym club. At the Printers we did all sorts of printing, having to set the type first under the guidance of Mr Ball. We produced headed paper, Speech Day programs, all practical things. There were only a handful of boys in the Printers Club.

With so much 'free time', I took to wandering around the school grounds. I went with another new boy over to Severn House (I Think), next to the San, where the single staff lived. They had a good orchard there, and we asked if we could have some 'fallers'. We were allowed to help ourselves.

Mr Meerendonk was my housemaster. One day a week Mr Benson stood in for him. Mr Meerendonk would come around during set prep times and give us the benefit of his experience. Someone was always being reprimanded for not entering the item in a sum. "6, what?" he would ask. "Apples sir". "Well son, put it in so that we all know". We all came under his scrutiny, and although we dreaded it, we all benefited from it.

He would, several nights a week, start sawing logs in the boiler room. A small group of volunteers would then join him as he chopped and we bundled. Many a bundle I helped to prepare. He would then take them to Chipping Norton (Chippy) to sell them to a supplier. We then had funds for extras like records. The number of times we played 'My Fair Lady'. I could almost sing all the songs myself.

It was after I had written my first letter home that I was called to his sitting room. It was customary that we wrote home on a Sunday morning before chapel. I used to listen to the Archers Omnibus, as I wrote mine. I listened to it at home and it was a bridge for me. We had to leave open our letters to be checked until we settled in. He had mine in front of him and he dissected it sentence by sentence. I had to agree with him. The House was not ugly. It was not horrible at KHS. I was homesick. He asked me to consider how my mother would feel to receive this letter. He didn't shout, didn't tell me off. He just asked me to rewrite it and be positive. I went back to the quiet room, sat by the window and cried. No one saw me. I rewrote the letter and I think I settled in then, but I have never cried since. My days on the Hill were some of the best days of my life. The letter was never mentioned again and I never wrote another one like it.

Our boot room, the last job we did each night.

One of my favourite walks on a Sunday afternoon was to the beautiful Cotswold village of Cornwell. I used to go with Tim Bullock, Joe Bumford and Robert Sansom. The village shop was a Co-op and a plaque on the wall said it was the smallest in the country. It was never open on a Sunday, but we just liked looking in the windows.

Another Sunday favourite was to walk down to Sarsden Brooke, in the valley to paddle in there and sift for fossils. I mostly went with Tim Bullock as he was interested in fossils as I was. We found a few, and I still have mine along with others I have found at various times in my life.

On arrival at KHS I could not swim. I was terrified of water. In January 1959, my second term, I went down to the old swimming pool with another lad from Bradford. The water was frozen over. I could see a frog sat on the water a few feet from the side. I thought it was frozen into the ice. I found a branch and proceeded to poke it. It hopped and I fell through the ice. I was in and I was out. All in a flash. I was soaked through, it was cold. I was never a distance runner, but I ran up the hill and into the house. I quickly got a bath and got changed. No one asked about it and I never mentioned it. I learned to swim that summer!

So many things happened throughout the term, but it still seemed a lifetime before the holidays. At night time as I lay awake, I could hear the clock tower bells clang out the time. On many nights at home now I can hear a bell chime the hour. It sounds the same. Also I could hear trains from Kingham racing through the night. I so wished it was the 8.33 to Oxford (Paddington) at the end of term. It's funny how a noise, sound, smell, whatever, can bring back such vivid memories. I hear the same sound now, but they are not steam trains now.

During the first term, I had to go to Chipping Norton to the dentist to have a front tooth taken out. It had gone rotten from when my younger brother turned on the stairs and kicked me. It chipped a bit off, and gradually rotted. I had to have a false tooth on a palate eventually, but this term we were busy getting our House Plays ready. Mr M had taken A Midsummer's Night as a basis for our play but had put many a commercial TV advert in it. Tommy Gradwell had to stand at the sleeping bands feet and sing "Sleep sweeter, Bournvita." I was asked if Naylor had taken out my tooth and I had to reply, "Nay, twas Knock". I believe they were the practice in Chipping Norton. I remember our play was given rapturous applause.

At certain times each day, the Tuck Shop was opened. Mr Meerendonk and Bill Clarkson used to run it. It was very popular with the variety of sweets, many lined up on the shelves in those large glass jars. Bradford boys could take cash out from The Book Mr Meerendonk meticulously kept of all transactions in or out.

When Bradford won a cup in any sport at any level, we would know that within a few days after prep, Mr Meerendonk would appear with a crate of coca cola and cake as a way of celebration. I do not know whether this happened in other houses or not, but we always enjoyed celebrating our success.

If it was one thing I really hated it was boxing. Not that I was a coward, but it meant that I was going to have to get in the ring with Joe Bumford, one of my closest friends. We were similar in weight and build. I could not see the point of trying to hurt him or trade punches with him. I stood in the ring and defended myself while Joe tried to penetrate my defence. He won, but that then meant that he had to take the next bout. And so it went on. However it seemed to die a natural death because I think it stopped in 1960. Hallelujah!

The morning jobs in the House were done when we got up. It depended which dorm we were in as to the job we would do for the week. As a senior dorm boy one job was seeing to the boiler. I dreaded that. Clinker, heat, shovel, check pressure, damp down. Get it wrong, especially in winter and we all froze. As a junior one job was to polish all the elephants in the hall. There were many of them, and they needed to go back as they were. Bumping (polisher), dusting the stair ways, all needed doing in the 20 minutes or so before washing and going to breakfast for 8. The job I liked best was working in the kitchen and store at Bradford. It was our duty to check stores, etc. The duty boy would then join him for a cup of tea. I liked it but I asked him to be excused from the tea after many months, because it made me late for getting out to breakfast in time.

We had our meals in the great dining room. I still remember the framed saying on the wall by our tables. "I complained that I had no shoes till I met the man who had no feet". It has become so easy to moan about the mundane so that when something really bad befalls us, we are often at a loss for words. Another item from the archives was during dinner, if it happened to be your birthday, you went up to the Wardens table and told him. The birthday song was sung and we could choose a pot of jam or similar spread for the table.

We also had to take our turn in the kitchens doing the washing up. It wasn't too bad because we only had to dry off the crockery and cutlery. When I did it there was a very nice middle aged couple sorting and washing. They were very chatty and rather like an uncle and aunt of mine.

The first PE lesson each term with Mr Benson, the games master, was to have our height and weight checked. We also had our chest measurement recorded with the expansion from breathing in. "Come on Foster, a bit more to make it 3 inches" he would often say. The results would be on our term report. I still have mine, and record here some of the memorable quotes with the author.

'His work is rather weak at present. He needs to take very great care over his writing, especially when using ink'. English. Mr Wetherill

'He should keep struggling without being discouraged'. French, Mr Colin Noble

'Rather unsettled at first but now seems much happier. I like his enthusiasm and his good manners. We like having him in the House' Housemaster's report. Mr Meerendonk

'Fair, but he tries hard' Science Mr S Manning

'He possesses a rather gruesome sense of humour which causes him to produce remarkable essays' Form report. Mr Wetherill

'I admire the way he always tries his hardest - and comes up smiling for more'! Geography. Mr J Turner.

'Tries hard but spoiled by untidiness in writing and thinking'. Maths, Mr Meerendonk

'His exam suggests that it is idleness rather than inability that spoils his normal work'. History, Mr MI Taylor

My mates in the house with whom I spent a great deal of time were as follows. Joe Bumford, Dave Casson, Robert Sansom, Charles Dawson, William Winter, and Tim Bullock. Willie came to my home one half term for the day, after getting my mother's permission. I visited Dave and Robert at their homes after leaving school. My main friend outside Bradford was John (Frank) Hilsdon of Clyde. We often met at Oxford United during their home games just after they got voted into the football league in 1962.

I enjoyed the CCF on the whole, volunteering for the Guard of Honour for Lord Hailsham when he came as Guest Speaker. He was Minister of State for Education and Science at the time. Mr Bowker was the CCF Captain with Mr Benson as Lieutenant. Bill Clarkson was the CSM. I really enjoyed the final term as we went to Kidlington for Civil Defence and First Aid training. We were able to put on a show for Speech Day that summer.

On returning to school in September 1959, we were met by very sombre news. The Rohilla tragedy. The brother of one of the boys was in my dorm. Stuart Earle was our boy. If the same thing had happened recently, there would have been counsellors swarming over the school. As it was we were left to sort out our feelings ourselves. It was so hard to be objective, guessing, respectful of Stuart. Not knowing what may have happened but guessing the worse. Terrible at night talking through, until the bodies began drifting ashore. Then we knew. We got through it together and moved on.

Memorial plaque in the KHS chapel

Often during our Sunday walks we would visit Kingham village, and would mostly spend a few minutes sitting quietly at the graves of the lads who had died at school or from the Rohilla, in our little corner of the churchyard.

It was during this time that we were able to get bottles of coke, but no bottle opener. We learned to use our teeth to open them. For me these same teeth are the ones that are now rotting away and falling out. No surprises there, but at 15-16, you don't think about that.

Generally we had to stay out till 4 pm on a Sunday. When we came back in, often Mr Meerendonk was playing snooker in the common room with his son in law. We enjoyed watching them finish off their game in silence.

We only saw fleeting glimpses of Jennifer their daughter, and Lesley their grand daughter used to join us for our House photo along with Sandy the dog. Another part of Bradford life was Mr Hatherill, Mrs Meerendonks elderly father who lived there. We would see him on a daily basis until he had a fall and sadly died soon after.

Lesley and the dog, Sandy

This is just a small slice of the History of the Hill as seen by me, looking back many years later. Just a four year span, not in order of events or importance. Not an ink spot or stain anywhere to be seen! I hope that I have done justice to Mr and Mrs Meerendonk for their patience and understanding.

Bradford was Mr and Mrs Meerendonk.