King Henry VIII Grammar School

Keith McGawley always seemed to be credited with being the big influence on their development as rugger players I don't recall any involvement of Ivor Preece, but that may well have been the case Phil Duckham was the better prospect, capped as an England schoolboy, but chose a different path to follow

Another amusing aspect of Henrys in the Sixties was the streaming system that they operated. Now, bearing in mind that the school, supposedly, had some of the more academically able lads in Coventry - and the surrounding area - to work with, those who were in the lower graded forms were treated somewhat dismissively, I felt. There was none of this "you're very bright, it is just that some boys are a bit brighter, that's all" about it. No cushion landings for us. After assessing your performance for a couple of years, they had made their mind up about your abilities. As far as the school was concerned, those in the 'C' and 'D' streams were clearly destined for blue collar occupations. Their viewpoint seemed to be that "Latin, etc. is definitely not in your skill set, so this year it is Woodwork." They probably thought that we might be more at home in an environment containing the fundamental contents of our heads. Namely - sawdust. Here is their assumption. If you were failing academically, then the reason had to be that you were just not cut out for the sort of cerebral challenge provided by the school. The 11-plus system had, clearly, made a ghastly mistake. You were a misplaced person and Henrys had to rectify the error by providing some Woodworking facilities and then hope for the best. If you were diligent, you might make it to Foreman in some factory or other. The possibility that one was underperforming because of teaching inadequacies, or perhaps because of an archaic culture, never made it onto their agenda. No, that couldn't be true. It had to be because "you are better with your hands". Unfortunately for me, that assumption was false. By this time in my life, I had experienced pre-Christmas 'Meccano Nightmares', through dreading the prospect of being presented with a box of the stuff as a gift. What, in Heaven's name, is fun about spanner work? "Ooh, a nut and a bolt! I just have to join two metal strips together!" That thought never entered my head. Probably couldn't make it past the sawdust. And now the school was providing me with an opportunity to make things from wood. Well, Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah!! I can remember making two objects in Woodwork. One of them was a bookcase. Where was the sense in that? If we were better with our hands, then why, pray, would we want a bookcase? Shouldn't we have been making a shed, so as to have a place to store our vast collection of woodworking tools? The other item I made had some immediate practical use. It was a tray. This seemed fairly straightforward. It was made up of a Formica-type base and four bits of wood, two of which had holes in them to serve as handles through which to stick your fingers when carrying. All you had to do was shape the wood pieces so that they fitted together with dovetails and then apply nails, where appropriate. How hard is that? Hmm. The trouble is, once you get to have a go with a plane, it's hard to know when to stop. I certainly didn't. One piece of wood ended up significantly thinner than the others, leaving a gap between it and the base, through which would pour spilt coffee during transit. But I did find a use for it, eventually. I gave it to my sister as a Christmas present. Now she suffers from pre-Christmas 'DIY Nightmares'.

Thinking about the way in which the school did not manage to impede the rugby careers of Duckham, Preece and Rossborough got me to wondering how Dick Fosbury would have fared with his 'Flop' technique in the school high jump pit. I reckon it would have been the equivalent of jumping head first into concrete. Fosbury won gold at the '68 Olympics with a height clearance of 7 feet 4 and a quarter inches. Imagine having a go at that one with sand to absorb the impact. Anyone who thought that sand was appropriate for a high jump landing base had clearly never holidayed at Weston-Super-Mare. That beach has about as much 'give' in it as titanium. So, 'Flopping' was out as a high jumping method. That left 'Scissors Kick' or 'Straddle'. Placing value on my ankles and knees, I chose 'Step Over'. It certainly wasn't approved of, but it's more difficult than it looks. It can be so easy to kick the bar off with the trailing foot. Particularly when you mean to. As far as I was concerned, there was always the issue of vital parts to consider. What if you mistimed your scissors kick and landed on top of the bar? Suddenly, representing your House on School Sports Day doesn't seem quite so important. All that awaits you in life is the possibility of a job as lead singer of The Stylistics. So I was finding it hard to envisage how the school could have produced a high jump champion. Then I thought "Hold on a second. That school perimeter fence alongside Spencer Avenue looked about six feet high. I'm pretty sure some lads must have tried jumping it in order to escape attending Sports Day. I certainly took a look at it before opting for crossing the railway line. And that helped me in my long jumping ---".

Strangely we had a lad in our year who did attempt a fore-runner of the Fosbury Flop. His name escapes me now, but he was in Sherwyns, wore glasses, and came to school on a tandem. I think it was Smith. His approach was to run straight at the bar and dive over it head first then do a forward roll on landing. Worked a couple of times, but alas, when attempting a higher jump he cleared the rope, but broke his arm on landing. I favoured the Western Roll, no chance of damage to personal equipment there, unless you were so blessed you knocked the bar off with it.

'Smith' came to school on a tandem? Wow, if I'd have seen that, I'd have taken a chance with my stabiliser wheels.. His high jump must have drawn the crowds. Spud Murphy ought to have been trying to charge an entrance fee for that one. .I think Smith's method was where the expression 'Accident Waiting To Happen' came from. I reckon that if someone had knocked the bar off with their personal equipment whilst doing the Western Roll, it would warrant a Blue Plaque to be placed on that spot in their honour. Bags I do the wording.

There was a lad called Smith (Dave?) who came to school on a tandem. He lived in Earlsdon, and his dad owned or ran the post office.

Another dim and distant memory.... On the woodwork block there were toilets to the left hand side as you looked at it. I seem to remember some sort of 'explosion' in these toilets, after which they were closed off and IIRC, not opened again whilst I was there. Anyone shed any light on this? Mr D Di?

Hi Bohica. I know the toilets you mean, they were habitually frequented by those lad who felt the need to sneak off for a crafty fag at breaktime. I went on a tour of the school a couple of weeks ago and one of the others with us actually wanted to detour to this place out of nostalgia. He was rather disappointed to find that they are no longer toilets. He related how they were regularly raided and how they were caught on one occasion by Jeff Vent sneaking up from the bike sheds and catching them on the blind side. I do have a distant recollection of some sort of incident in those toilets involving pyrotechnics. Nothing to do with me, I can assure you. It is certainly the case that it was quite easy to get your hands on various chemicals from the chemistry prep room and if you knew what you were doing you could certainly create quite a bang with very little material. Alternatively, a firework down a toilet could have been responsible too. I think you are right that those toilets were taken out of use at some point but I would think that was because of the fact that they were a smoking den. There was also a 6th form toilet in the corridor near Piggy's office which were closed because of misdemeanours involving graffiti and never reopened while I was there. That is now a classroom.

Yes, I remember JBV coming through the bike sheds and catching a lot of people smoking, this was not long before we discovered the green box. There was a long queue outside Piggy's office at break next day. When I got in I obviously said I had merely popped in the use the toilet, and as I not had any "smoking materials" on me I felt I had a good chance of getting off. Pig questioned me closely, inspected my fingers for nicotine stains, and eventually said he would accept my explanation. Just then the bell for end of break rang, Pig pulled a pack of 10 No.6 from his pocket took one out, started to close the pack then suddenly said, "Oh, sorry. Do you want one ?" My hand had started moving before my brain kicked in, but I quickly turned it into an upraised palm, and said, "No, thank you Sir. I don't smoke." We stood in a frozen tableau, Pig with his packet extended, me with the upraised palm. Then he smiled, nodded, put his fags away, and sent me away with a wave of his hand. Incidentally, I was drinking with Mr Murphy Saturday night, at a ruby wedding do.

Ah, yes, the green box! I have related previously what use I had for the infamous empty green box and on my recent visit to the old place I actually made a point of looking for it behind the pavilion. I can report that it is still there! I have to say that the box is looking rather neglected now, rusty and paint peeling, but it still forms part of the school boundary in Spencer Road. It has been covered by a piece of chain link fencing. Incidentally, I was quite surprised at the changes at the school where they seem to have squeezed extra classrooms into everywhere possible. It was very interesting going round pointing out the various haunts of the ghosts who still haunt those corridors. Any old boys here would find the tour fascinating, they seem to allow 'access all areas' on open days.

Rob, scrutiny, this school was used by 8f for lessons, believe on Saturdays. I know I attended a couple of times, have no idea what the lessons were, or when, or if you know, or interested. Kaga.

When I was at KHVIII Junior School my teacher in 1A was Miss Hammersley (this was 1963), and by co-incidence she lived next door to 2 friends of my parents, Bob and Dorrie Evans. If memory serves they lived in a cul-de-sac off Wainbody Avenue North.

Just found this forum by total accident. Boy, I haven't thought about any of this stuff in 50 years. Thunderguts McGawley? taught me to swim by shouting so loudly I fell in the water and had to literally survive by not drowning. I remember a Jeff Courtois? PE along with BeBop music and Droob Latin. Joe Soap was art (which I was good at) and wore flamboyant ties and blazers for a man build like a brick outhouse. Anybody else did their O and A levels a year early? PopCork was physics, does anyone remember a chemistry teacher called Tringham? with Michael Caine glasses? he was one of the good guys. Also Casalette was a very tall history teacher who had very impressive smart pin stripe suits, complete with waistcoat, later Foghorn always talked to the trees. Another good guy was a younger music teacher Webber? or Webster? ended up singing in the new cathedral because of him. Kitty Fischer gave me my first detention. Piggy Shore's hobby was marking where my sideburns should end with biro. Herbie I never actually talked to my entire time there I don't think. He just swept past in his flowing gowns looking as if he'd just finished winning his superior debate how many angels would fit on the head of a pin.. I had Tramp Edwards for new maths and it buggered up my maths for life with his photocopied sheets instead of a textbook, and homework that could not be done because of errors in the questions, effectively using pupils to proof read his book. Later Fred Harris who could actually undo some of the damage Tramp had done, and then ended up on TV in Playschool. When he got married we collected a bin full of hole punch little discs of paper and emptied it on his head coming up the stairs to second floor. He took it in good humour but made us clear up the mess with our hands. Froggie Irwin for French (the only O level I never got) always seemed a sad man but decent. And was the senior chemistry bloke Wylie? or something? Chain smoker, organised the encyclopedia magazine sales, and the only joke he ever had was getting up in the middle of the night to have a pee and being overpowered by chlorine from the loo? Meant nothing to us boys... now past 60 the idea of getting up to pee in the night somehow has resonance! I was never much interested in sport, which made me a non-pupil for much of the staff I reckon (though did do the swimming team once), you had to be a rugger of cricket star to belong. At least I never got caned (or caught out enough to get caned). Never taught by Jeff Vent, again don't ever remember taking to him all the time I was there, but he got in touch with my parents years later about reunions - I was not interested.

Hi & welcome to our forum. You mention Fred Harris. I had a double whammy with him as his dad Arthur, was an engineering inspector at Courtaulds Engineering Ltd, when I was trainee in 1965/6. Best wishes to you.

Hi and thank you very much. Fred Harris was one of the good guys. We tested his patience, but he took it in good stead, and tried to actually teach us stuff. I hope we didn't drive him away to kids TV.