Most of my very early memories are not of my mother but of myself. I remember images flashing from disjointed locations.
The strongest memory I have of my mother is one of a perfume mixed with a hint of cigarette smoke. When I was feeling sad or lonely as a child, I would open her closet and smell her black dress suit, and she would be there with me.
As a small child up until I was about nine, I was what is considered today, "a latch-key kid". I attended Terrace Road Infants and Junior School.
As a small child up until I was about nine, I was what is considered today, "a latch-key kid". I attended Terrace Road Infants and Junior School.
Ahh! Terrace Road Primary School. A granite, Dickensian monolith, perched high above the sweep of Swansea Bay, and alongside the cobbled hill of constitution.
Oh, to roll a tyre down that hill, and watch the ants below scurry about seeking shelter.
Although I dreamed long and hard of doing that, I never did. I wonder if Anthony Fyfield did?
I attended Terrace Road School (Infants and Junior) for over ten years.
During my time at the school, the Infant's Head Mistress was Miss Snead and the Junior school Headmaster was Mr. Davies(sp?).
When I look back over 60 years, I remember the school as a kind of Welsh, Dotheboys Hall: the classrooms heated by coal fires, the outdoor toilets, the grim headmaster with his squeaky brogues, his elbow patched Harris Tweed suits and Harris Teed hats.
During my time at the school, the Infant's Head Mistress was Miss Snead and the Junior school Headmaster was Mr. Davies(sp?).
When I look back over 60 years, I remember the school as a kind of Welsh, Dotheboys Hall: the classrooms heated by coal fires, the outdoor toilets, the grim headmaster with his squeaky brogues, his elbow patched Harris Tweed suits and Harris Teed hats.
He caned me once thinking I had sworn in the playground. I hadn't but he didn't let that stop his obvious enjoyment of my suffering. He always walked with a purpose, and that purpose was to catch children at some wrong doing.
Then there was six foot Mr. Llewellyn who made my ear bleed when he hit me (for nothing I did wrong, I'm sure). My four foot ten inch mother, always very protective of her cub, sailed up to the school, and stood toe to toe with him as she looked up his nose. She warned him that if he ever touched me again, he would reap the consequences.
I remember the strange smell of stale biscuits that permeated the boy's changing room, and the acrid smell of stale urine that always seemed to swirl around the girl's changing room. Sometimes looking out of a window, I can still girls with their white shirts tucked inside navy blue bloomers, playing rounders in the yard as they slapped around in their gray/white daps.
Then there was six foot Mr. Llewellyn who made my ear bleed when he hit me (for nothing I did wrong, I'm sure). My four foot ten inch mother, always very protective of her cub, sailed up to the school, and stood toe to toe with him as she looked up his nose. She warned him that if he ever touched me again, he would reap the consequences.
I remember the strange smell of stale biscuits that permeated the boy's changing room, and the acrid smell of stale urine that always seemed to swirl around the girl's changing room. Sometimes looking out of a window, I can still girls with their white shirts tucked inside navy blue bloomers, playing rounders in the yard as they slapped around in their gray/white daps.
Years later, I realized that the stale biscuit smell was actually the scent of boys socks that had been worn for a few days too long.
I remember the long glass-topped exhibition cabinets that surrounded the hall, filled with "treasures" from all around the world; the shark's skull was always a fascination. "Please can we take it out, sir?"
Mr. Rees, Mr. Roberts, Mr Llewellyn and Mr. Barratt(?) are all that remain in my memory now.
Would I recommend Terrace Road School? I don't know. It's been more than 55 years since I was there.
I remember the long glass-topped exhibition cabinets that surrounded the hall, filled with "treasures" from all around the world; the shark's skull was always a fascination. "Please can we take it out, sir?"
Mr. Rees, Mr. Roberts, Mr Llewellyn and Mr. Barratt(?) are all that remain in my memory now.
Would I recommend Terrace Road School? I don't know. It's been more than 55 years since I was there.
But if you're looking for ghosts and memories, pay a visit, sit quiet in the hall, and listen to the stories.
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