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Terry Mathers moved to Spondon House School with some trepidation in 1949 as it had a reputation for the being the “last resort” school. Now retired from a high-powered job in industry with a string of letters after his name, and living in Melbourne, Australia, Dr Mathers looks back fondly at the school and the excellent teachers to whom he attributes his success in life.

I attended Spondon House School for the whole of my secondary education from 1949-52. I moved there from Cherry Tree Primary with some trepidation as, in those days, it had a terrible reputation!

It was one of those schools that was forced to take anyone who failed the 11-plus and was reputed to be the school of almost the last resort!

Albert Walton (later known as Big Al) was said to be a tyrant who had a steel-tipped, 6ft cane in the corner of his office! I never saw it but the stories were legion. Such were the dreadful tales whispered among primary school-leavers scheduled to attend Spondon House.

On the first day, you entered its 8ft high, solid timber, green double driveway gates with considerable apprehension. They had all of the appearance of jail gates, just waiting to be slammed shut. But nothing could have been further from the truth.

The teaching staff at Spondon House School in the late 40s/early 50s. They were an inspiration, according to one of their many students

In a Bygones photograph (reproduced here), I recognised several teachers, who were involved in my education. There was John Dixon, the sports master who coached me to win the county 220 yards race in 1952 and the Trent Valley race in that and every preceding year. He was an excellent coach, would stand no mischief and accepted only your personal best.

Third from the left is Maurice White (known as Mogger), an absolutely fabulous teacher who had that rare gift of always making his subjects interesting – yes, even French, his specialty.

He was a quiet man with a wry sense of humour and a great smile. One Christmas, I went to his home carol-singing, was invited in and treated to a nice mince pie.

One day he set us the task of learning a poem of choice for recitation the next week. I recited the first 23 verses of the Pied Piper of Hamelin, much to his amusement.

First left in the middle row is, I think, Mr Kerry. He was house master of my house – Scott. He was also our music teacher. He never once remonstrated when, in those days, the boys tried to drown out the girls in choir practices. He taught all of us the music scale, had a good sense of humour, was patient and never lost his temper. And, in a mixed form choir practice, he would have had much to endure. He was in his chosen profession and must have enjoyed it: it showed.

Third from the left, middle row, is Mr Hogan, the woodwork master. He taught first- year boys how to use woodworking tools. Heaven forbid if you got a splinter, for then you got a smack across your hand with his wooden ruler. Mr Hogan was ex-RAF and a keen amateur radio operator.

Fifth from left is Mr Davis, a quiet, capable person who instilled confidence in all who he taught. He was a man with a true vocation. He was that rare breed of man that made learning a great pleasure.

In 1949, I went with my parents for six months to live in the Sudan. Mr Davis wrote to me every week with school work, returning it marked – and did this for the whole period, freely and without complaint. He was the type of person who put the welfare of his pupils first – always. On his left hand is Mrs Davis (no relation). She was the sports mistress, I believe, for Shackleton House. She was by reputation a fierce, competent teacher who championed girls’ rights to have equal opportunity at school.

I remember one year, after she pinned up a notice inviting all interested girls to sign up for hockey practice, two boys, Lou Record and Stanley Cockram, completely filled up the sheet, signing each others’ names! The stories about what she did to those two boys must have been remembered for years.

On the far right is Mr Ball, the art master, another capable and quiet man who had the difficult task of teaching the rudiments of drawing and painting.

Seated far left on the front row is, I think, Miss Benison. I cannot speak too highly of that lady. She was a wonderful teacher and sowed the seeds of Christianity in me. She was strong, kind, considerate and, in every respect, a round-peg-in-a-round-hole kind of a person with a wonderful sense of humour. Seated in the centre is Big Al. I have no idea how he achieved his reputation, for he was no tyrant. To those deserving such treatment, he could be a frightening and authoritarian headmaster but he was also a kindly, softly spoken intelligent man.

I shall never forget his stories about his experiences in the First World War trenches. He filled that gap perfectly between us teenage boys finally leaving the school system and taking up jobs in the adult world. It is a great shame that there are not more of his ilk today.

Many of the other members are staff are known to me as faces only but, like Alan Hunt, I look back on and treasure the days that I attended that “dreadful” school, Spondon House. It was, in fact, a privilege.

I left at the age of almost 15 and took up Rolls-Royce an apprenticeship. I achieved numerous qualifications, including a BSc in mechanical engineering, and have written many technical papers.

I am now retired but have been a manager of engineering and project manager with some of the world’s largest design and construction companies. That I have achieved such things is due entirely to the things instilled in me at Spondon House and to the deep-rooted seeds that those wonderful teachers planted in me.

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