James Henry

My main memories of the place involve playing football (that’s English “soccer”) practically every day, being bullied in 2nd year by 3rd Year footballers, for smoking (hard to believe now) and getting into their team 12 months ahead of schedule………and being encouraged by some teachers to write stories. One of these turned into four exercise books worth of spine-chilling terror entitled, wait for it, “The Castle Of Fear”. It became regular listening for Mr Edwards’ 3rd year English class. He was a shouty but likeable Welshman with thin black hair, thatchy black moustache and sore-looking bulbous lips often seen making acquaintance with a Benson & Hedges filter tipped. Recognising my literary prowess, he would sit me at the front and bid me regale everyone with my ground-breaking tales of broken ground, dark forests, sinister butlers, unusual monsters, trap doors, unnecessary imprisonment, the creaking portcullis – it was all in there. I supposed it saved him having to plan a lesson. Those books still exist, somewhere. Most of my sentences cried out for full stops and were linked interminably by the words “and then…..”.

And then, despite my mother’s best efforts to persuade council officials and blunt headmasters alike, I failed to get into any of Liverpool’s prestigious grammar schools – couldn’t even get into a bad one. I think they gave me the “11-Plus” at the 11th hour of my junior school internment, but I’m not sure. Whatever this exam was, I didn’t pass it. I ended up taking a daily bus trip into town to attend St Nicholas’ Secondary Modern in Brownlow Hill, a seat of learning that, I realise now, exposed me to a level of education best described as shite. I did OK in spite of that, but never learnt much that would constitute an adequate preparation for the outside world. The overall boredom that set in from 2nd year onwards never totally loosened its grip, but…. the one wonderful outcome of going there was my introduction to the guitar, and for that I have to thank James Bogle, a classmate of mine from Scotland Road with recurrent kidney problems (Scotland Road also familiar as “Scottie Road” to any Scousers tuning in – Scousers being inhabitants of the city of Liverpool……..etc. etc.).

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