‘H’ was the most hated teacher of our era. He joined us as a P.E teacher to replace ‘G’. The ‘new boy’ was ex-R.A.F, and a bully - typically constantly picking on those of, shall we say, a less than athletic build or disposition.

The universal revulsion felt for this character is probably best summed up by the graffito that appeared written in snow on the wall of the 2nd year playground in VERY large letters ‘F U * K  H U * * * T’ (the asterisks are mine).

The following are some other thoughts:

Bill Szelazek:

‘H’ was a sadist to those whose physical prowess did not match to his imagined own, but on the other hand there were one or two other teachers that managed to get some knowledge into our brains which were more interested in the girls up at Highbury Girl's school and Tony Simpson's lyric and chart compilations.

For those of us that were at Highbury in the early 60's ‘H’ must be a contender for "he who left the most lasting impression".

Football never being one of my favourite pastimes (unlike Ben Tipple - one of the best goalies we had), I was only too keen to find an alternative -- Cross Country over at Hackney Marshes. The Ancient History teacher (can't remember his name), used to take us and because of his girth would patiently wait back at the changing rooms while we set off on our circuit. Over the footbridge, turn right and complete one lap, returning over the same footbridge. But - after turning right, a few hundred yards up on the left hand side was a shelter. Just how many weeks we completed the circuit before deciding that it would be easier to wait for 15 minutes in the shelter having a fag instead, before returning - all puffed out by our strenuous activity, I can't remember. What I do remember, however, is the week that we were puffing away and who should turn up but H. Striding out round the footpath, he found us there and made us run round the circuit twice, whilst he kept up with us to make sure nobody dropped out on the way.

Richard Dawes:

He seriously upset me once, can't remember why now, but was so cross I wanted him dead. I planned to break into his room at night from the playground, connect the Yale lock and doorknob to the mains and see him toasted as he unlocked next morning. Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

Ian Sams:

At a swimming gala, he told me that the reason I had hit the ropes during a race was because my right arm was so much stronger than my left. I argued and he, as usual got angry and started shouting at me that he was the PE teacher and that it was my job to listen and learn. I pointed out that if he had bothered to look at me in any of the other sports at which I represented the school, then he would have noticed that I bowled, and put the shot left handed. Don't think he ever spoke to me again

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