I had not confused the names. I had reached Wealdstone without trouble. It was the fourth of January 1940, and I was gazing for the first time upon what I considered to be a real gem of a church in the Early English style, St. Joseph's Wealdstone. Behind the church, the Salvatorian Fathers house and school combined; a long, white, steep-roofed building resembling the Swiss chalet style, about 30 yards long, running from west to east. On the south side of the building, a lawn with a magnificent chestnut tree in the middle. On the north side, where we now have the "1961 block", another lawn interspersed with apple trees, and beyond, an allotment where most of the community's vegetables were grown.
I felt at home from the beginning, even before meeting Father Xavier Howard, the headmaster, Father Cuthbert Smith, the Superior of the Community, and the other Fathers. The warmth with which I was welcomed, the unassuming friendliness shown to me by all, confirmed my first impressions, and I set about teaching with enthusiasm.
The Salvatorian College was then a one-form entry school, forms one to five, ages eleven to sixteen, with a School Certificate (Oxford) at the end of the Course.
Classroom space was severely restricted. The present Headmaster's Office, curiously enough, has always been situated in the same place, but the present Secretary's Office was once the Fifth Form classroom, and the two Staff rooms were once two classrooms, except for a short time, when the sliding partition was pushed back, and the space used for an assembly hall. The present Medical Room was once a very efficiently run Library. The present Library with its adjoining Sixth Form Study Room was once the Art Room, Father Ignatius Weber favouring it because the light came from the north.
Some well-known people have visited the School. I recall Ted Kavanagh of the B B C, Max Bygraves, and Tommy Docherty of Manchester United, whose attention had been drawn to the footballing ability of the Shanahan Brothers in our First XI. Mr Docherty was then managing Chelsea.
Few of us reflect on the importance of the School Caretaker in the running of the School, so little is he in the limelight. I think, on the occasion of the Golden Jubilee of the school a salute to the indefatigable Brother Alphonsus ("Bruv" to most boys) is appropriate. He has been with us many years now, doing invaluable work. Two notable caretakers of the past were Mr Doyle and Captain Patterson. They belonged to the homely, private school era. Mr Doyle was a qualified referee, and a power in the side, in Staff v Boys Soccer matches. Captain Patterson was a man who had lost a foot in the War, but who stumped around, completely in control of both Tuck Shop and School, a parade ground disciplinarian, but a great favourite with the boys, as he insisted that "his" School must be locked up by four-fifteen pm. No chance of holding a detention! I forget how the cleaners managed to do their work under the circumstances.
How many are aware that what was called until recently the "Redgra" was once catacombed (and probably still is) with underground passages, which provided an air-raid shelter for hundreds of Wealdstone citizens, and that night after night, during the blitz, a procession of fathers, mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, and children, pushing prams and carts, piled high with mattresses, made their way up the avenue, past the Community house, to sleep in a place safer, yet less comfortable, than their own homes.
We have had two bomb scares in comparatively recent times at the school, but there was a time, during the Second World War, when some parents and boys really believed that the school had been destroyed by enemy action. The roof of the school as it then was, and Winsor and Newton's factory next door, were set ablaze by a 'Molotov cocktail', dropped from an enemy plane at two a.m. one dark night. Fathers and Lay Staff stumbled about in the dark (all the fuses had 'blown '), passing buckets of sand and earth from hand to hand, to smother the flames of a small fire started in the roof. Water was strictly forbidden in dealing with incendiary bombs. The fire was extinguished and the next day, school was held from 9 a m to 1.30 p m as usual, the headmaster, Father Xavier Howard being regarded as something of a hero, having picked up an incendiary bomb in the yard, which had failed to explode. For many years it was kept, made safe, of course, as a reminder of the eventful night.
After the War, the School grew rapidly. In 1952, the '1952 block' was opened by Cardinal Griffin, Father Thomas Hennessey then being headmaster.
It became evident that the needs of the area demanded that the Salvatorian College should cease to be a fee-paying, private school. Nine years later, when Father Dominic Crilly had succeeded Father Thomas, Cardinal Godfrey officially opened the '1961 block'. The Salvatorian College became a Voluntary-aided Grammar school, with excellent classrooms, and first-rate facilities generally. Cardinal Heenan, who succeeded Cardinal Godfrey, came to visit us on two occasions since 1961.
In 1961, we had 'arrived', so to speak. From our 120 pupils with limited facilities in 1940 to a school of over six hundred boys with facilities second to none.
There have been minor crises in the history of the College between 1940 and 1976. On one occasion, it was seriously considered that the name of the Salvatorian College should be changed. Various alternatives were put forward, and discussions held with the Governors, 'St. Mary's College' being very much favoured, but fortunately, I think, it all came to nothing. The original name remained.
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Another crisis was when serious consideration was given to the adoption of a black blazer, on economic grounds. Fortunately, again, the idea was rejected, and the famous green blazer, with the badge designed by Father Brendan Keogh, still distinguishes the Salvatorian College boy. So, the Golden Jubilee finds us with a flourishing school. Once that has been celebrated we look forward to the Diamond Jubilee. Ad multos annos ! |
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