Printable Version of Topic

Click here to view this topic in its original format

Glasgow Boards/Forums _ Schools _ Old School: St Mungo's Academy

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 14th May 2007, 12:00pm

My old school was St Mungo's Academy which I attended in the 1960's. The school had four annexes all in the Townhead area, at Duke Street, Kennedy Street, Barony Street and Parson Street. My first memories at Kennedy Street were quite traumatic as at out first Maths class, the teacher, wee George Savage decided to check everyone's pencil to see how sharp the point was. He announced if the point of the pencil did not draw blood when it pricked his thumb, we would receive 3 of the belt ! The whole class was duly belted, quite a stressful experience bearing in mind we were all just out of primary school with an average age of 12 years. Even now over 40 years later, it still seems like quite a sadistic act to inflict on 12 year olds.

Some of the teachers at Kennedy Street - "Chips" Rafferty was the headmaster, Mr Benson taught French, Mr Bowman - "Twang" - taught English, Mr Pacitti taught Geography. We had a P.T. teacher called Mr Brickley who fancied himself as a hard man and used to invite pupils to punch him in the stomach so he would not flinch and show how fit he was. I remember he was intensely disliked as he favoured the rugby fraternity while we were all football fanatics.

For 3rd and 4th year we moved to Barony Street which was the personal fiefdom of Farmer Kelly, the eccentric headmaster. The time was the mid 60's and we were all growing our hair longer to copy our favourite rock bands, The Beatles and The Stones. The Farmer did his daily round of the playground at morning assembly and picked out any pupil with hair growing over his shirt collar. He was given 3 days to get a hair cut or action would be taken. We had heard stories of some pupils being held down by one teacher while Farmer went to work with scissors to shorten the pupil's hair !

We were caught by The Farmer a few times hiding in the playground toilets as we "dogged" the first Friday mass. We were allowed out of the toilet cubicle, dispensed 4 of the belt and sent across Parson Street to join the rest of the pupils for the service. Some of the other Barony Street teachers - Jimmy Byrne taught French and was a tough no nonsense type who announced early on that he would still receive his salary every month irrespective of whether we passed our exams or not. It made some of us think enough to get the heads down and study. I remember one day someone set off a stink bomb just as Mr Byrne arrived for his class. He walked in the class, smelled the air and walked back out and locked us all in class to breathe in the pong for the next half hour. Needless to say no more bombs were let off. Hugh Innes - "Big Shug" taught English and had an affection for the more developed, muscular boys !

For 5th and 6th year we moved to Parson Street, which resembled one of those American prisons. You entered through a tunnel from the main street into the enclosed playground where every morning, the headmaster wee joe Barry was waiting with his book, The Tardy Host, to enter all latecomers and dispense 3 of the belt for being late. No excuses were entertained, genuine or otherwise. Wee Joe was a bit sadistic and was just too free when dishing out six of the belt for minor offences. Other teachers in Parson Street - "Spud" Murphy who taught Music and was a bit of an eccentric. It wasn't easy getting us Beatle fans to listen to Gilbert & Sullivan, Segovia and Bach but Spud persisted and we all broadened our musical horizons. "Bunny" McFarlane, a gentle man which many of us took for weakness, but who persisted in his own quiet way to introduce us to T.S.Elliot and even appreciate the dreaded Shakespeare, which we has been force fed up until then without any real explanation of what the plays were about. I remember Dr McLeod teaching Chemistry, Mr Reid teaching Árt and Con McGinlay teaching Economics.

Overall I enjoyed my time at "The Mungo" which despite being run by a religious order - The Marist Brothers - I can't remember any indoctrination that went on. It may have been a sign of the times with revolution in the air in the late 60's but most teachers were fair and quite a few were enlightened in their teaching methods. There were always the sadists which every school had, who enjoyed dishing out six of the belt for trivial reasons and enjoying it.

Hope this stirs a few memories for some former pupils who will no doubt have their own take on different teachers and how they were treated.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 14th May 2007, 07:01pm

You missed the annexe at Rigby Street, Carntyne which was later used by St. Gregory's Secondary.

you've got some memory.

there's a few photos here.

http://www.friendsreunited.co.uk/friendsreunited.asp?wci=pictureboard&school_key=25246

Posted by: Eddie Clarke 8th Jul 2007, 12:20pm

A great memory indeed - I feel you must have trodden the same path and even the same teachers as me (though I remember wee George Savage as a History teacher, not maths - "Savage by name, savage by nature" he used to quote, but bark very much more than bite as I remember). Thanks for the memories

Posted by: Mahegradon 24th Jul 2007, 04:46am

I remember all of the teachers that you mentioned, but I could never have recalled what most of them actually did for a living. (Subject wise)
I do remember "Cecil", Mr Strachan. I believe he taught English.
I had to leave after 4th year. It was either that or get a haircut.

Posted by: BigArturo1 1st Aug 2007, 08:24pm

I remember Mr Strachan or Cecil as he was nicknamed. He was in charge of the library in Parson Street when I was there. He wore thick glasses and was quite "intense", todayspeak for a "nervous wreck"!

I also remember our trips out to the playing fields at Loretto, just past Bishopbriggs. I particularly remember taking part in a cross-country run in which my group quickly lost interest and decided to go off route across a field, only to be chased by the farmer who fired a shotgun over our heads. We got the message and got the hell off his land and finished the run in record time I seem to remember !

We had a Physics teacher, Mr Meechan, who announced on his first day in class that he was from Anderston - "a hard area and I won't be taking any snash from you lot !" He had one of the thickest belts in Barony street and used it quite liberally.

I remember the playground toilet in Parson Street which was choc-a-block with smokers every playtime and lunchtime. Wee Brother Adrian was fond of throwing blocks of ice through the open toilet windows in winter and "bombing" the smokers who would all rush out to sort out the culprits, only to be confronted by the Brother laughing his head off.

I remember one of our class set off a smoke bomb outside the teachers staffroom window in Parson Street one playtime which forced every teacher to evacuate into the playground, which all the pupils thought was hilarious.

Chemistry classes were an exercise in survival technique. When you see the protection equipment today's pupils have on - gloves, goggles etc..- we only had old cloths to mop up any acid spills which happened regularly as we were often left alone in the lab without supervision due to staff shortage and we conducted our own "experiments", usually involving Sulphuric or Nitric acid, seeing how they reacted with other substances. How anyone was not seriously hurt amazes me looking back.
The playground at Kennedy Street sticks in my mind as it resembled a prison camp with high wire all around and the area hemmed in surrounded by tenements. The ball was regularly kicked over the fence into the back courts and into the middens of what were slums in those days. The pain of the first whack of a Mouldmaster ball on your leg when wearing shorts in winter will never be forgotten. The red mark it left on your leg seemed to last for weeks. Happy Days !

Posted by: Mahegradon 25th Nov 2007, 10:22am

St Mungo's Academy Reunion.
150th Anniversery

To be held in April 2008 - Details from Brian O'Neil on
Friends Reunited: St. Mungo's Academy reunion page.

Posted by: Leslie Thorpe 27th Apr 2008, 05:55pm

Thank you all for taking the trouble to record your memories. Your comments revived some latent memories of my own.

But I am surprised to learn (only recently) that the old school (Parson Street) closed in 1974 and that a new school was openned circa 1988 .... a co-educational institution I believe. And the Marist Brothers have "moved on". To what ???

Posted by: eddiebhoy67 1st May 2008, 08:36am

Memories play tricks on us all. Savage by name and Savage by nature was his motto and dishing out punishment with a belt he made you measure the thickness of on your first day was his stock in trade. Tommy Farr taught French at Kennedy St. I learned nothing. And it was set amongst the worst slums in Europe. Wee Paddy was our PE teacher and was OK. So was Briclay. He actually danced in the White Heather Club. He was the blond in the kilt.
We had three classrooms there. It was a Protestant school and they took great pleasure in winding us up. During our exams in 1960 they organised their brass band reherseals next door. What a racket. Savage almost had an apopelectic fit. There was a creature called Jake, who was the leader of the pack. He wore a studded, leather jacket and skin tight jeans. He always had a face covered in stubble and had a fag permanently hanging out the side of his mouth. He wanted to beat up one of our first year boys who climbed up the wire fence in the playground and clung to the top with Jake waiting at the bottom. He was saved by the bell and the arrival of the teachers.
No one seems to remember the " stinky ocean." An industrial waste site just past the school with piles of black ashh, a dreadful smell and incongruous goal posts in the middle.
Friday was a nightmare as we had Savage nearly all day. Double English then double Latin to finish it off. He stood in the gloom at the front of the class, writing your Latin declension on the board. I remember stumbling over Miles, tables, puellae, tavernae portant ( portaverant ?) Still stumbling as you can see. All the heads in front of me suddenly went down and the wooden board duster was two inches from my head when I ducked too. It hit the wall with a thud and I had to pick it up and return it to Savage. My Mum used to wonder why I always felt sick on Friday mornings. Happy Days, ( ? ) rolleyes.gif

Posted by: BigArturo1 13th May 2008, 03:29pm

EddieBhoy,

I agree with your memories of wee George Savage. A previous posting had suggested his bark was worse than his bite but I don't remember it that way. He quite enjoyed exercising his power - another wee guy with the power syndrome like wee Joe Barry in Parson Street - and I remember severe beltings being meted out and dusters being flung at pupils. Fortunately times have moved on and hopefully today's pupils won't face the same abuse.

Regarding the Stinky Ocean, there are various postings on the Guide under Pinkston, Garngad etc.. including a few from myself as we played there as children.

I remember the Kennedy Street Annexe was split into Catholic / Protestant sections as half of the school was an annexe of the City Public whose pupils used a different entrance and had different play times when I was there to avoid any friction. I attended in the early 60's and St Mungo's had the majority of the school then. I hated first, second and third years and only began to enjoy 5th and 6th years in Parson Street.

Posted by: CRETESCOT 18th May 2008, 12:45pm

Hi, any idea what happened to BARONY STREET? Was it renamed or 'demolished'?

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 18th May 2008, 02:40pm

It went back to being called The Martyrs School and is looked after by the Museums Service.

Of course if you went to St. Mungo's you would know how to search.

Posted by: Melody 18th May 2008, 03:23pm

Thanks Dexter. laugh.gif Indeed your right.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 25th May 2008, 07:38am

Man, did BigArturo 's reminiscences jangle a few bells?!! I was a fellow inmate at St. Kent's beginning in 1967 in Tommy Farr's class ( -"That's vulgar, boy -I won't have vulgarity in my class ") with a colorful array of both pupils and teachers. That first day saw us up in the rafters of the building for art class which was being taught by a nutjob teacher whose name escapes me at the moment - we had all heard rumors of this teacher's ' unorthodox ' methods and encountered them first-hand when he stormed into the room, bellowing at us, informing us of our first great transgression of the school term ( some of us had sat down without permission ) so yours truly plus about ten other unfortunates spent the rest of that double period standing on top of our desks as punishment, gawking out the window at the traffic on Duke Street and breathing in the less-than-fragrant reek from the nearby Molli as it trickled past the school, separated by a woefully inadequate fence - the same fence that kids would breach then accidentally stumble and 'fall' into those fetid waters in a feeble attempt to dog the rest of the day's classes. English, geography and a host of other subjects being taught to us by the lofty Mr. Burke or "Sylvester" as he was known to us - he of the un-forgeable signature who would regale the class with stories of his exploits in Burma during WWII, going into great detail about bayoneting "..those horrible little buck-toothed Japs..." . French classes taught by the aforementioned Tommy Far and Big Sam McManus who always carried that white leather belt of his over his shoulder and under his jacket until someone swiped it and threw it into the foundations of a new motorway overpass up near Barony Street during the city's blitzkrieg redevelopment of Townhead... Latin classes taught by Mr. McConville who bore a striking resemblance to Josef Goebbels - He was feared among the poor buggers who did not match up to his standards - ( I seemed to have a flair for languages so I rarely showed up on his radar ) but I do recall him backhanding a kid across the face for being what he considered too lazy and then grabbing the same kid by his hair and yanking him to his feet where he was to stand for the rest of the period... The other Latin teacher I recall was a Mr. Shields who made an unforgettable first impression on us due mainly to the fact that he looked like something Howard Carter may have pulled out of an Egyptian tomb in the Valley of The Kings in 1926 - A near-skeletal face on a huge lightbulb-shaped head guaranteed to scare the Bejazus out of all who beheld it for the first time... Math was courtesy of Brother Alan, a Montgomery Clift lookalike with the bristling black hair and those dazzling teeth gleaming from a permanently tanned face, who always had that annoying habit of clacking his teeth together when he was concentrating on something - the faster the ' clack ' the tougher the problem... The other Math teacher I had was the notorious Mr. O' Hanlon or as he was universally known by friend and foe alike as " Eddie Onion " , St. Kent's own Nosferatu the Vampire who would storm through the halls of the school, black cape flapping out behind him - even kids who did not have him as their math teacher would flee at his approach - I had Eddie for what was probably the longest 6 months of my life but only was subjected to his torture and derision on one occasion when he asked his daily question, inquiring as to which particular ' Little Ba-Ba Buntys ' had forgotten their text book - My hand went up and after his usual overly-theatric swoop of the arms which served to swing his cape around him so only his bald, pointy head was visible - then out came one claw-like hand, making a ' C'mere you' gesture. Up I went, expecting nothing less than a horrible death but Eddie must've been in a good mood that day as he was willing to settle for a mere 6 strokes of the belt, after which he loaned me one of his own textbooks. Imagine my horror when, barely back in my seat he asked if anyone had forgotten their jotters.... Same theatrics, same everything, 6 more strokes... After that I did my level best to be conveniently absent on the days we had math ( - no easy task ) but I suspected there could be no escape from the man - I knew for a fact he threw no shadow, he would have no reflection in a mirror and if anyone ever shaved off the sparse tuft of hair that was left on his gleaming multi-scarred melon it would reveal '666' tattooed there - I would pray for him to fall over a balcony or walk in front of a bus before the inevitable happened and he would materialize in my room in the middle of the night and rip my throat out. Strangely enough at the end of the school year he showed up with a huge tray of ice-cream wafers and cones to be distributed among his many victims, shocking many of us to find they contained no rat poison. Over the years I have often wondered what ever became of him, eventually consoling myself with the knowledge that he probably spends his time in a place far hotter than most of us will ever see. So went my first year in The Mungo, a veritable baptism of fire but secure in the knowledge that Second year could only be better... Foolish Boy, Foolish Boy.....

Posted by: Isobel 25th May 2008, 05:40pm

As an ex pupil of Charlotte St who knew many young lads who attended St Mungo's you have given me lots of laughs. Can you just imagine all of this taking place today, no way. It was the same in Charlotte St. Big long straps hidden in the pockets of the gowns. Pointers that were on occasions used as weapons.Don't speak unless you are spoken to. Those were the days.
We were taught the meaning of respect. Don't want to go back to such tough days ,however it has gone too much the other way. Get respect back in the classroom and let the teachers do their work with less interference from parents.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 27th May 2008, 06:15am

There was a place called ' Papa's ' - a little diner-type joint on High Street, just south of it's intersection with Duke Street where some of us would go to torture our tastebuds at lunchtime, the usual bill of fare consisting of a pie 'n' peas or a pie 'n' beans for the more flatulent ones among us plus a few other totally forgettable culinary masterpieces but the place was situated next door to a little hole-in-the-wall record store and the reason I so vividly remember the place was because it was the only music store I ever saw that displayed the covers to Blind Faith's album with the topless and dangerously underaged ( I assume ) red-headed nymphette gawking brainlessly at the camera - the other album cover being Hendrix's ' Electric Ladyland with it's plethora of nubile, nekkid women sprawled across both sides of the fold-out record sleeve. Needless to say this daily gawkers'-fest increased in volume every day but what surprised me most was the growing number of girls from Charlotte St. who were there staring side-by-side with us Mungo Boys... I decided there and then these young Charlotte St. ladies needed to be watched very closely... I think someone else must've been paying attention to the swelling ranks of teenaged schoolkids blocking the sidewalk in front of that record store also because those album covers suddenly vanished without warning and it wasn't long before the store itself closed down much to the chagrin of many hormonally ravaged first & second-year youngsters who really knew the value of a cheap thrill... Ah, happy days...

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 27th May 2008, 07:32am

The site of High Street pops i think is still there and as you say not the shop.

McConville a Sinatra fan went on to Notre Dame College of Education to lecture in religious studies. Eddie O'Hanlon who was regarded by others as a good teacher I understand took up a Headship in a primary school.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 5th Jun 2008, 01:55am

Thanks to Dexter for the update on what became of Mungo teachers McConville and O'Hanlon - I seem to recall catching a fleeting glimpse of Latin teacher McConville on TV once - some show about marriage guidance counselling or something similar but as his appearance coincided with that week's episode of Top of The Pops so McConville didn't stand a chance. True enough, there were many who praised Mr. O'Hanlon but for every one who praised him there were probably ten others sticking pins in Eddie Onion effigies all over the city.

Posted by: eddiebhoy67 6th Jun 2008, 12:27pm

To Big Arturo
Yes. However many laughs we might have now the reality at the time was often very bad.
I see McConville's name mentioned at the Kent, and I will never forget that man and his cruelty as long as I live. And Brother Aiden. He taught geography. He would arrive in class. Talk unfathomable rubbish and then mention that he had just dropped pearls before the swine. Some boys would write things down but I never had a clue what he was on about. I believe these pearls were answers to future exam questions. I got 25% for geography.
Music teacher in the attic ? I remember a very tall thin man called Drack. He pulled all the curtains one day and sat in the dark at the piano. We could just make out his outline against the curtains as he sat playing the Death March. He also had us all singing " Faith of our Fathers " in a lusty fashion then suddenly stopped and made us examine every word and sentence in detail. He then invited all those who wanted to die for their faith to join him in another chorus. There was silence. And one to one interviews with Brother Alexius ? With the door locked and engaged light on outside. And questions about whether your father spanked you. And with what ? And with or without ? ( Trousers ) That was pretty hairy. And " Daddy Kelly." He taught science. At least that was the rumour. He found out that I had been caught " dogging school." Hands up. I just gave up. I just wanted to avoid the Savages and McConvilles until I was old enough to leave. But I was caught and had to have a card signed every lesson to prove I was there. Daddy called me out to his desk. His stomach was so big he used to lift it up with both hands and prop it on the desk. He was short with a little grey moustach. " You know what I think of you?" he said. He then spat on the floor. He then ignored me for the rest of the term. He gave me no work. I was handed no equipment in the lab. I was 14. And O'Hanlon. A bald headed maths teacher who wrote sums on the board calling out, " Who sees it, boys ?" "Who sees it ?" We all nodded that we could see it and he smiled. Then he would point at someone and say, " OK. You can see it. Tell us then. Tell us the answer." The smile would go. The voice would rise and become shrill. " You then?" "Or you?" And then the belt would appear and we would all be flogged. The whole class was often done for not " seeing it." He went through exam papers once with the class and belted everyone who had scored less than 80%. And he had a lousy aim so you often caught the tails on your wrists and the red weals would sting for ages afterwards. I am reliably informed that one of our number became Lord Advocate in Canada. He must have had private lessons oin the side surely ?

Posted by: Mike Docherty 7th Jun 2008, 08:46am

In response to eddiebhoy67's entry re. Brother Alexis -- Aha, now there was a character... A perpetually sweaty, pink-faced little bald fellow who constantly reeked of cheap gin and bore a disturbing resemblance to mass murderer John Christie of '10 Rillington Place' fame ( - or infamy depending on how you look at it )... He would occasionally conduct the First Friday Mass at a church way along the London Road and always insisted upon using the French word for 'Mass', always finishing the gig with " Go in Peace, the Messe has ended " It's funny for the first 4 or 5 hundred times you hear it ... He would always hover around the toilets at St. Kent's, hoping to bust some smokers red-handed...When he caught one of the kids engaged in a heinous activity such as shouting or running in the corridors and he saw fit to deal out punishment he had a somewhat questionable habit of offering the option of being spanked rather than face the dreaded belt ! I found myself in his office once to face the music for throwing a snowball at a # 6 bus on Duke Street - The matter was being treated as if it had been a hand grenade but when asked if I would rather take the belt or get spanked I opted for the former and let the chips fall where they may. He was genuinely taken aback and he settled for a clap on the shoulder instead... Perhaps the fact that I had made sure his office door remained open may have had something to do with it. I recall mentioning his behavior to my folks who, being Irish threw a snarling, raging fit at the very suggestion that a ' Man of the Cloth ' could be a bit light in the loafers. Bro. Alexis ( or 'Wee Lekkie' as he was known ) always insisted that he simply loved the boys. He possibly loved them a little too much because he vanished and was replaced as headmaster by a stern old Irish fella whose name I cannot remember ( was that Brother Aidan? ) sometime in early '68 and then in turn he was replaced by the overly-intense Brother Lucas. Brother Lucas was short with nothing that resembled a sense of humor and possessed a head that was perpetually cocked at about 20 degrees from the vertical - any time he chose to look behind him he had to physically rotate from the waist up. There was an incident during my second year at St. Kent's where two kids were beating the tar out of each other in the yard and the yells and cheers of the audience alerted Bro. Lucas that there was mischief afoot. He charged into the yard and the now silent throng parted like the Red Sea as he pushed his way towards the bruised culprits at the center of the crowd. Grabbing both kids by the scruff of their necks he swung them as far apart as he could then swung them towards each other where both skulls connected with an extremely audible ' Clunk '. He demanded to know who threw the first punch but neither one 'fessed up. One of the guys pushed his luck though when he insisted he had not been involved in a fight at all - Bro. Lucas gave him another opportunity to come clean but the kid denied all knowledge -- Now fuming with rage he demanded of the kid " Look me in the eye, boy and tell me you weren' t fighting " to which the kid responded by cocking his head at a similar angle to Bro. Lucas's head and repeated his response - you coulda heard a pin drop - there was that moment of stunned silence, Bro Lucas shaking so violently he looked like he might spontaneously combust on the spot, then grabbed the bare-faced liar by his hair and dragged him up to his office where he proceeded to beat him like a Red-headed Stepchild... One thing for sure about the Mungo when it came to characters and weirdos, teacher and pupil alike - you couldn' t throw a rock without hitting one...

Posted by: PK 22nd Jun 2008, 12:23am

I remember Papas. I was at Duke street from 69 to 72 (i think). At Duke St we used to rush from the school into the Ladywell buildings where a shop had pallets of pies and beans already wrapped and ready to serve for around 9d. Many of the teachers names here are familiar, I remember a particularly sadistic maths teacher called wee Mac. Best teacher, although still terrifying, was Mr. Byrne, an art teacher

Posted by: Michael Docherty 23rd Jun 2008, 07:37pm

Hey, pk - I remember that bakery - it became our steady lunchtime eatery after a brief altercation with the guy who ran Papa's and we decided to never darken his doorstep again. The Math teacher you refer to - 'Mac' - was probably McAloon - I remember him well - A short, chubby little guy with glasses... I managed to get through my First Year at St. Kent's ( relatively ) in one piece although I had hated every single minute of it and still wished I had gone with my first instinct - to go to St. Thomas Aquinas along with all my Primary School pals from St. Peter's in Partick. After that first horrible year in St. Kent's I foolishly assumed the baptism of fire was over and done with and it would get better from there on in... What's the old adage about '..famous last words..? '... Summer was great with a two-week school-organized vacation to Italy & Switzerland and one of the teachers who accompanied the group was McAloon himself who seemed just fine as a civilian but as a teacher was a Jekyll / Hyde character. That idyllic summer was winding down - Back to St. Kent's for a Second Year full of optimism - I considered myself fortunate to find Eddie Onion would play no part in my next 12 months of incarceration - he was too busy commuting between St. Kent's and Kennedy St. where he continued to torture 12 & 13 year-olds with his Spanish Inquisition teaching tactics, taking centerstage as The Grand Inquisitor himself. Brother Alexis had been spirited away to be replaced with a crusty old Irish guy as Headmaster - A 'Fire and Brimstone' type. No more Latin which meant no more McConville or Mr. Shields ( - "Sammy Mensa" to us -)... One of our English teachers was a young woman - a Miss Hawthorne who was immediately re-named ' Miss Hot-Horns ' due to her extremely impressive physical attributes. She was barely 5 feet tall which created a bizarre symmetry considering she was also about 5 feet in diameter. The most obvious thing about her was the massive chip she carried around on her shoulder which manifested itself in her liberal use of the belt, each period consisting of about 25% education and 75% 'Discipline'. Being somewhat vertically challenged she actually had to stand on a stool to dish out punishment to the taller guys in the class. As far as I can recall she was the only female teacher in a school full of boys which in itself was probably intimidating, made worse by the fact that no-one took her seriously. She lasted 4 or 5 months and left as an emotional trainwreck. Teaching Art was, as you mentioned - Mr Byrne - He was one of the best teachers that place ever had... I remember seeing him running around on a little Honda motorbike and how he spent several months on crutches with a broken leg thanks to a genius car driver performing the ubiquitous right-turn sans signal stunt. Big Sam once again took care of French, History was taught by a lanky American teacher from ( I think ) Ohio. I remember the first day he strolled into the room wearing cords, cowboy boots and a leather vest and sporting a drooping gunfighter's mustache as if he'd just walked off the set of a Western flick, the only thing missing was the Colt Peacemaker strapped to his thigh... Science was delivered courtesy of a new teacher - A Mr. Boyle who was another great believer in battering a good education into his class. He surprised us all with an unscheduled Test about 4 weeks into the new school term and anyone who scored below what he considered 'acceptable' had the stuffing belted outta them - about 95% of the class. Within a week I had a run-in with McAloon the math teacher. He took offense at the way I was sitting (?) - slouched insolently in my chair and not bolt-upright and hanging on his every word. I recall he derived great enjoyment from trying to make people look silly in front of their peers and when he was done berating me for my lazy posture I returned to my seat and after a brief moment of sitting erect with hands clasped in front of me I resumed my insolent slouch. I believe this may have triggered The McAloon Meltdown... Before I knew it I was in front of him and, for a little guy moved deceptively fast - a blur, in fact as he dealt out a rapid 6 hefty strokes of the belt and as I headed back to my seat, genuinely stunned the little bastard grabbed me by the back of my collar and physically threw me through the door (- fortunately for me the doors swung both ways-) and sent me sprawling into the hallway beyond, head spinning. When I gathered my wits and went back inside against his stern warning to 'Stay Out' of his classroom I scooped my books into my briefcase and exited the building, totally ignoring his demands to 'Explain Myself'... Being ignored by a pupil was obviously new ground for him and it was making him uneasy. I eyed the huge welt on my wrist left by the mis-strokes of his belt and the discoloration of the broken veins under the skin but realized my own folly in deciding to go home early - we were scheduled to have a double period of swimming that afternoon and nothing short of a dismemberment would prevent me from being there. Besides - the wounded wrist would look much worse later. I made good my escape after swimming and headed home to show my mother the results of McAloon's handiwork which by now was an amazing assortment of deep reds and purples. She went predictably ballistic and when my father came home he responded in similar fashion, dragging me down to the local copshop to press charges against this loose-cannon maniac of a teacher. The police did indeed pay him a visit and from what I heard later scared the Bejazus out of him with the threat of potential criminal charges for his deeds. Imagine my delight when I was informed the decision lay with me - prosecute or not prosecute. I told the Powers-that-be I would ".. let him off this time ..". He was in my pocket now and he knew it and I made damn sure everyone else in the class knew it too. I was invisible to him for the rest of that term - he received a serious bollockin' from Bro. Lucas ( the latest headmaster ) and was getting looked at sideways by his teacher colleagues which led to him being little more than a joke but the incident had soured me and just contributed to the overall realization that for me school was a place where I would make chalkmarks on the wall like a lifer in San Quentin, counting down those long days to my 15th birthday and my escape.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 23rd Jun 2008, 11:22pm

Well he died young and left a family behind if that makes you any happier.

Where's the bring back the belt brigade? in hiding chaps?

Posted by: Michael Docherty 24th Jun 2008, 05:21am

Hey, pk - I remember that bakery - it became our steady lunchtime eatery after a brief altercation with the guy who ran Papa's and we decided to never darken his doorstep again. The Math teacher you refer to - 'Mac' - was probably McAloon - I remember him well - A short, chubby little guy with glasses... I managed to get through my First Year at St. Kent's ( relatively ) in one piece although I had hated every single minute of it and still wished I had gone with my first instinct - to go to St. Thomas Aquinas along with all my Primary School pals from St. Peter's in Partick. After that first horrible year in St. Kent's I foolishly assumed the baptism of fire was over and done with and it would get better from there on in... What's the old adage about '..famous last words..? '... Summer was great with a two-week school-organized vacation to Italy & Switzerland and one of the teachers who accompanied the group was McAloon himself who seemed just fine as a civilian but as a teacher was a Jekyll / Hyde character. That idyllic summer was winding down - Back to St. Kent's for a Second Year full of optimism - I considered myself fortunate to find Eddie Onion would play no part in my next 12 months of incarceration - he was too busy commuting between St. Kent's and Kennedy St. where he continued to torture 12 & 13 year-olds with his Spanish Inquisition teaching tactics, taking centerstage as The Grand Inquisitor himself. Brother Alexis had been spirited away to be replaced with a crusty old Irish guy as Headmaster - A 'Fire and Brimstone' type. No more Latin which meant no more McConville or Mr. Shields ( - "Sammy Mensa" to us -)... One of our English teachers was a young woman - a Miss Hawthorne who was immediately re-named ' Miss Hot-Horns ' due to her extremely impressive physical attributes. She was barely 5 feet tall which created a bizarre symmetry considering she was also about 5 feet in diameter. The most obvious thing about her was the massive chip she carried around on her shoulder which manifested itself in her liberal use of the belt, each period consisting of about 25% education and 75% 'Discipline'. Being somewhat vertically challenged she actually had to stand on a stool to dish out punishment to the taller guys in the class. As far as I can recall she was the only female teacher in a school full of boys which in itself was probably intimidating, made worse by the fact that no-one took her seriously. She lasted 4 or 5 months and left as an emotional trainwreck. Teaching Art was, as you mentioned - Mr Byrne - He was one of the best teachers that place ever had... I remember seeing him running around on a little Honda motorbike and how he spent several months on crutches with a broken leg thanks to a genius car driver performing the ubiquitous right-turn sans signal stunt. Big Sam once again took care of French, History was taught by a lanky American teacher from ( I think ) Ohio. I remember the first day he strolled into the room wearing cords, cowboy boots and a leather vest and sporting a drooping gunfighter's mustache as if he'd just walked off the set of a Western flick, the only thing missing was the Colt Peacemaker strapped to his thigh... Science was delivered courtesy of a new teacher - A Mr. Boyle who was another great believer in battering a good education into his class. He surprised us all with an unscheduled Test about 4 weeks into the new school term and anyone who scored below what he considered 'acceptable' had the stuffing belted outta them - about 95% of the class. Within a week I had a run-in with McAloon the math teacher. He took offense at the way I was sitting (?) - slouched insolently in my chair and not bolt-upright and hanging on his every word. I recall he derived great enjoyment from trying to make people look silly in front of their peers and when he was done berating me for my lazy posture I returned to my seat and after a brief moment of sitting erect with hands clasped in front of me I resumed my insolent slouch. I believe this may have triggered The McAloon Meltdown... Before I knew it I was in front of him and, for a little guy moved deceptively fast - a blur, in fact as he dealt out a rapid 6 hefty strokes of the belt and as I headed back to my seat, genuinely stunned the little bastard grabbed me by the back of my collar and physically threw me through the door (- fortunately for me the doors swung both ways-) and sent me sprawling into the hallway beyond, head spinning. When I gathered my wits and went back inside against his stern warning to 'Stay Out' of his classroom I scooped my books into my briefcase and exited the building, totally ignoring his demands to 'Explain Myself'... Being ignored by a pupil was obviously new ground for him and it was making him uneasy. I eyed the huge welt on my wrist left by the mis-strokes of his belt and the discoloration of the broken veins under the skin but realized my own folly in deciding to go home early - we were scheduled to have a double period of swimming that afternoon and nothing short of a dismemberment would prevent me from being there. Besides - the wounded wrist would look much worse later. I made good my escape after swimming and headed home to show my mother the results of McAloon's handiwork which by now was an amazing assortment of deep reds and purples. She went predictably ballistic and when my father came home he responded in similar fashion, dragging me down to the local copshop to press charges against this loose-cannon maniac of a teacher. The police did indeed pay him a visit and from what I heard later scared the Bejazus out of him with the threat of potential criminal charges for his deeds. Imagine my delight when I was informed the decision lay with me - prosecute or not prosecute. I told the Powers-that-be I would ".. let him off this time ..". He was in my pocket now and he knew it and I made damn sure everyone else in the class knew it too. I was invisible to him for the rest of that term - he received a serious bollockin' from Bro. Lucas ( the latest headmaster ) and was getting looked at sideways by his teacher colleagues which led to him being little more than a joke but the incident had soured me and just contributed to the overall realization that for me school was a place where I would make chalkmarks on the wall like a lifer in San Quentin, counting down those long days to my 15th birthday and my escape.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 24th Jun 2008, 05:15pm

First of all - apologies for the duplication of that last entry - I was informed that the 6 character code was inaccurately entered the first time and I should try again so whoever screwed up - it wasn't me. In response to Dexter's comment re. Math teacher McAloon - No, the fact that he died fails to make me ' happier ' - just because the man single-handedly re-defined the word ' A@#hole ' does not mean I should wish an untimely demise upon him - That particular wish was always reserved for Eddie Onion.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 24th Jun 2008, 11:43pm

What did they showed a lack of vocabulary at St. Kentigern's?

Posted by: Michael Docherty 25th Jun 2008, 04:19am

Since Dexter appears to have kept tabs on the old Mungo faculty I wonder if he could shed any light on the whereabouts of Art teacher Mr. Byrne who tolerated me during the years '67 - '72 from St. Kent's through The Barony & Parson St. plus English teacher Mr. McLaughlin ( Big Wullie ), who gave me some great encouragement through 4th and 5th year, also in The Barony & Parson St.

Posted by: Guest PaulK * 30th Jun 2008, 12:06am

QUOTE (Michael Docherty @ 24th Jun 2008, 05:38 AM) *
Hey, pk - I remember that bakery - it became our steady lunchtime eatery after a brief altercation with the guy who ran Papa's and we decided to never darken his doorstep again. The Math teacher you refer to - 'Mac' - was probably McAloon - I remember him well - A short, chubby little guy with glasses... I managed to get through my First Year at St. Kent's ( relatively ) in one piece although I had hated every single minute of it and still wished I had gone with my first instinct - to go to St. Thomas Aquinas along with all my Primary School pals from St. Peter's in Partick. After that first horrible year in St. Kent's I foolishly assumed the baptism of fire was over and done with and it would get better from there on in... What's the old adage about '..famous last words..? '... Summer was great with a two-week school-organized vacation to Italy & Switzerland and one of the teachers who accompanied the group was McAloon himself who seemed just fine as a civilian but as a teacher was a Jekyll / Hyde character. That idyllic summer was winding down

I think I was on the same trip. Italy and Switzerland, 1970. No idea what happened to Byrne, another teacher I remember who was OK was a guy called (I think) Henderson who did some bit part acting on the telly, died in a car crash or something. The American teacher was Lee Trevino as far as I recall.

Posted by: Guest PaulK * 30th Jun 2008, 09:58pm

QUOTE (Guest PaulK * @ 30th Jun 2008, 12:23 AM) *
The American teacher was Lee Trevino as far as I recall.


oops, Lee Trevino may have been a golfer but I do think the teacher was called either Lee or most likely Trevino or am I just losing my marbles?

Posted by: Michael Docherty 30th Jun 2008, 11:25pm

Hi there, PaulK -- Right destination, different year - The trip we took was earlier in July of '68. I remember the whole bunch of us standing in the pissing rain on the shoulder of the M6 after the bus' s engine gave up the ghost and left transmission parts scattered all across the motorway, having to unload then re-load all the gear into another bus the charter company sent to our rescue, finally getting into London and wandering around lost because the driver had no clue where we were going but it all came together in the long run. Great memories of sitting at a railroad station cafeteria at 6am just as day broke, stuffing ourselves with crusty rolls lathered with fresh butter washed down with copious amounts of Swiss coffee in bucket-sized cups before the train ride to Chiavari, Italy for a week then back to Lucerne for the second week. Italy was good but Switzerland was great. Only problem was it all went by way too fast. The following year I think the school trip was a month in Biarritz. Good times...

Posted by: Michael Docherty 1st Jul 2008, 08:05am

Not so sure about either 'Lee' or 'Trevino' to be honest, PaulK although he ( The American guy ) was the only history teacher I ever had who taught the subject in a fashion that made the subject interesting to learn. The fact that he was closer to our age rather than his colleagues may have had a lot to do with it... Having a somewhat warped sense of humor even then I once considered informing the St. Kent's teachers ( who were for the most part a bunch of old fossils ) that Victoria was no longer on the throne but decided against it as it may have been too great a shock to their systems and I didn' t want to be responsible for them throwing themselves in front of trains or out of windows. 'Henderson' rings no bells for me. I do remember a young Physics teacher - 'McCue' or 'McHugh' - I believe he played for Clyde... Someone mentioned 'Brickley' - him I remember - I think he was a back-up PE teacher with the regular PE guy being a Mr. Donaghy - a stocky bear of a guy with curly hair and a permanent Seven O'Clock shadow. We had a music teacher whose name escapes me who had blond, wavy hair, thick glasses and looked about 12 years old. Our first Art teacher may have been called 'Slavin' - not sure about the name but he was a total nut-job who disappeared sometime during the first 3 or 4 months of my First year to be replaced by Mr. Byrne. One of the English teachers ( and my form teacher for about 6 months ) was Connelly who was another self-righteous little twerp who considered the belt as much of a teaching aid as a text book. During his English classes he would often work himself up into a frenzy until he would be shrieking like a banshee and by then no-one in the class had the slightest notion of what the lesson or the tantrum was about and his performance would usually terminate with him storming out, slamming the door as he went or theatrically tossing his briefcase across the room leaving us to wonder who was the most immature - The teacher or the 30 or so 12 year-olds in his class...

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 2nd Jul 2008, 11:23pm

John McHugh



John McHugh
1961-62: Dennistoun Waverley
1961-62: Clyde (8/1)
1962-63: Clyde (20/1) (2/2)
1963-64: Clyde (30/6) (6/1)
1964-65: Clyde (33) (9)
1965-66: Clyde (34/2) (7/1)
1966-67: Clyde (33) (12)
1967-68: Clyde (30/1) (8)
1968-69: Clyde (34/1) (13)
1969-70: Clyde (30/1) (5)
1970-71: Clyde (33/1) (8)
1971-72: Clyde (29+1/1) (6+1)
1972-73: Clyde (7+2) (2)
1973-74: Clyde (31+1) (10+1)
1974-75: Clyde (-+2) (2)
1975-76: Forfar Athletic (26) (7)
1976-77: Forfar Athletic (36+2/1) (6)

I understand John McHugh is still alive and thus can sue.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 3rd Jul 2008, 05:54am

Sue? Glad to hear it - Hell, if someone leaked the fact that I had played for Clyde I would sue also!! And all you people out there told me Dexter had no sense of humor....

Posted by: Michael Docherty 3rd Jul 2008, 05:57am

Quick P.S. to Dexter - Any idea what became of art teacher Byrne or English teacher ( Big Wullie ) McLaughlin ?

Posted by: Michael Docherty 4th Jul 2008, 05:08am

Towards the end of my second year at St. Kent's there was definitely something different in the air - Now that the exams were behind us for the most part there was a tangible sense of relaxation --- a sensation that things were winding down and, dare I say it things appeared to be getting somewhat ' laid back ' - It was the early days of the Age of Aquarius after all... Instead of dreading the thought of going to school some of us even made a point of going in earlier so we could get in some time booting a ball around the yard. That particular avenue of enjoyment had been severed for us during the spring - A bunch of us were idly chasing a ball around the yard one lunchtime when a stray kick put the ball through the window of Bro. Lucas's office, much to the good Bro's chagrin. He came storming across the yard screaming for blood, demanding the name of the miscreant who caused the damage but no-one would blab on the culprit so his raging tirade ended with him putting the kybosh on any kind of ball-related activities (?) in the yard as long as he was boss. As a substitute we took to playing game of game of poker and rolling dice which caused even more fist-waving sermons on Bro. Lucas's part about how gambling would lead impressionable young innocents such as ourselves down a rocky road to destruction - he probably would have burned us at the stake if he had any idea how much pocketmoney was already changing hands behind the toilets every day... I got a glimpse at what lay ahead for me in third year one morning when I was asked by the Good Bro. to deliver a message to a fellow brother up in the Barony St. Annex so off I went with Big Jim Carmichael to scope out this new territory and see what the next school year had in store for us. The Barony and Parson St. were like another world - St. Kent's had been a place with an oppressive atmosphere rotten with bogus snobbery which, whether intentionally or unintentionally had created an uncomfortable ' Us and Them ' situation with miserable old codgers masquerading as teachers, constantly berating and snarling at the kids they were supposed to teach and I eventually came realize that we got through it despite their efforts rather than because of them - "...Ivy-covered teachers in Ivy-covered halls..." Just that brief glimpse of what school held in store for us in third year was like a breath of fresh air, an optimism that was tangible and refreshing and I found myself looking forward to third year before I had even finished my second year and with a grin plastered all over my face realized Yes, there would indeed be life after St. Kent's...

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 4th Jul 2008, 06:06pm

QUOTE
Towards the end of my second year at St. Kent's there was definitely something different in the air


That would have been the wind over the Molendinar changing direction and blowing towards the pickle factory.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 4th Jul 2008, 11:16pm

Possibly - or perhaps from points further East - there was a huge slaughterhouse a little further along Duke St. after all... When I first went to St. Kent's the nearest bus stop ( for buses heading west ) was on Duke St. at the intersection of High St. Evidently bus drivers had little regard for the transportation needs of a hundred or so screaming 12 and 13 year olds so the majority of drivers would simply drive past the stop - if there were any adults at the stop a driver may ( or may not ) slow down to let them on and then floor it, taking off again quite often with two or three urchins hanging onto the pole, leaving the seething throng of kids looking more like a lynch-mob with every bus that flew past them. My solution to the problem was to head in the other direction ( east ) and catch the bus at an earlier stop and from my elevated position on the upper deck I was guaranteed an unobstructed view of those enraged, snarling faces as I sailed triumphantly past them... It was during the trek to this 'easterly' bus stop that I followed my nose one day and discovered the slaughterhouse and, accompanied by a couple of similarly adventurous souls we would go on lunchtime reconnaissance missions to infiltrate and see just what went on within the walls of that huge place. On the few brief occasions when we managed to slip inside you couldn't help but wonder if there was some form of Frankenstein experiments under way as we found wheeled crates full of brains, eyeballs and a plethora of unidentifiable intestinal plumbing - this coupled with the roars of the doomed livestock brought us to the conclusion that the methods used to snuff these animals was far from 'Humane'. We did, however swipe dozens of the now ownerless eyeballs and enjoy a bit of sport with them in the form of shooting them into crowds of people from slingshots, dropping one here and there into the pockets of unsuspecting people at bus stops or through neighbors' letterboxes - the smaller ones were still rubbery enough to squeeze into the old-fashioned front-door keyholes, much to the chagrin of the startled tenant who would eventually bend down to see why his key kept bouncing back out of the keyhole only to be confronted by a large, brown eyeball looking back at him. " Someone " even put one in an envelope addressed to French teacher Tommy Farr and left it on his desk. When he opened it he didn't bat an eyelid - just did what he always did and turned to stare out the window, jaw firmly set, looking up into the clouds for inspiration... Presumably he was used to receiving eyeballs in the mail as it didn' t seem to faze him in the slightest. A week or so later all hell broke loose when a bull broke free from its handlers, driven crazy supposedly by the reek of blood and death in the place and escaped out into the lunchtime traffic of Duke St. slamming into cars and buses and creating havoc. They captured the poor bugger of course but after this particular debacle security at the slaughterhouse was tighter than the proverbial bullfrog's posterior leaving us to seek out other forms of lunchtime adventure... Happy days indeed...

Posted by: Kenny Nicholas 24th Jul 2008, 08:20pm

For info, to clear up a few items on the postings, the Irish Head Master at St Kent's who pre-dated Brother Lucas was Brother Joseph. Barney McConville, the Latin teacher, also died young (and was in British Intelligence during WW2). Brother Alan (nice wee guy but arguably the poorest maths teacher ever) now looks after all the ageing and retired Marist Brothers in their house in Partickhill. John MacAloon I know seems to have been almost universally loathed (lots of my mates hated him) but he was the best maths teacher I ever had. The description of big Jimmy Shields is spot on and as yet, no one has so far mentioned Chic McConville who taught French (great teacher also). I caught up with him at the 150th Anniversary Dinner at the Glasgow Marriot in April this year and he looks exactly the same now as he did in the late 60s! My cousin also taught Geography at the Mungo and arrived as a young graduate around 1968/69 I think. His name is John Nicholas and he was the coolest dressed teacher at the Mungo, bar none! (not immense competition, I will concede). He took early retirement last year.

Finally, I recall an incident in 1968 (I think) when my pal and I were passing the science labs at lunchtime and we noticed the aforementioned Physics teacher and ex Clde footballer John McHugh, was still in class. The evening before, Celtic had gubbed Clyde 8-0 in their League Cup section and my mate paused momentarily outside the labs to call out in a loud voice "Ah'm starvin, Kenny - ah've no' ATE NUTHIN' since last night"! Exit McHugh post haste to give out 6 of the belt, hard & rapid. Sense of humour bypass, I suspect. If you're reading this, John, shame on you.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 1st Aug 2008, 07:12am

In response to Kenny Nicholas - Brother Joseph - Right !! Who then was Bro. Aiden? Our 5th Year form teacher was one of the Brothers and possibly Bro. Aiden - a good-humored, balding little fella who asked on the first day of the term " Does anyone in the room have any interest in Religion ? " and when almost no-one responded in the affirmative he thanked us all for wasting neither his or our time and we were at liberty to occupy the first 45 minutes of each school day reading or doing the homework we should have done the night before, just as long as we did it quietly. Fair enough. Your cousin was my geography teacher in 4th Year at The Barony but unfortunately we did not hit it off - As the only child of two Irish parents I had a trace of an Irish accent which Mr. Nicholas seemed to take immediate exception to plus the fact that I had an obsession with motorcycles which he also seemed to take exception to, even going so far as to suggest that I may consider a scooter instead. I informed him that since I was neither a woman nor a poseur such a consideration stood about as much chance as the proverbial snowball in hell. I don' t know if he was a scooter freak and perhaps took the remark personally but the wisecrack did little to improve student / teacher relationships. He was a spiffy dresser though - well do I recall the shimmering two-tone suits, the sharp rose-tinted glasses and the plethora of gold jewelry. And re. Physics teacher McHugh and his lack of a sense of humor - A very un-sportsmanly display from an alleged sportsman.

Posted by: Guest Paulk * 5th Aug 2008, 11:54pm

Do you not mean Brother Adrian who was (i think) the deputy head. Used to stand outside parson Street and belt you if you did not have a tie on. He was a maths teacher I think. Brother Joseph taught latin and was the voice on the tannoy at Duke street.
Anyone remember being shifted to Hanson street after parson Street was deemed unsafe (building wise, not theologically nor intelectually).

Posted by: Michael Docherty 6th Aug 2008, 06:55pm

Hey, Paul k -- No, not Bro Adrian - he was a whole other kettle of fish -- Someone in an earlier posting mentioned Bro. Aiden and it seemed to ring a few distant bells but now it' s got me wondering if I imagined it... Anyway, I do remember Bro. Adrian as a likeable, congenial little guy although he became a little more serious as his pursuit of the headmaster's throne intensified. When people like Farmer Kelly and Hugh McNeil wanted to crucify the longhairs Bro. Adrian was more willing to compromise and as you say the ' tie ' issue was a big deal - I refused point blank to get a haircut and when the complaints reached McNeil's ears he personally threatened me with expulsion so I called his bluff. Flustered by this unexpected turn of events he handed the matter of my heinous transgressions over to Bro. Adrian who insisted I wear the school tie as a tie rather than a headband ( - I wore the uniform anyway -) and all would be hunky-dorey. In retrospect I now realize that Bro. Adrian - the only one in the whole school willing to negotiate where the dreaded ' hair ' issue was concerned - was the only one with a full head of hair.... Makes you wonder...

Posted by: Michael Docherty 6th Aug 2008, 07:02pm

As a quick P.S. to the 'hair' posting - Does anyone remember the young French student teacher from around 1970 - Young guy in his early 20s with the huge afro and the guitar, wore bellbottom cords and rolled joints behind his desk when he thought no-one was looking ? Or Mr. Lange ( Big Eddie ) a huge, awkward Frenchman with a nose of De Gaulle proportions... Ring any bells ?

Posted by: AL SYMER 10th Aug 2008, 10:18pm

I stumbled across this site and was transported back to my days at Duke St- St Kents- Parsons St in the early '70s. First day at Parson St for assimilation and then sent to whatever annex you deserved. Befriending the only boy to turn up with a cap and shorts ( he only worn them on the first day) . Down to Duke St with its huge walled "play ground" .Lunch at Papa's then down to the 42nd Presinct to listen to the the latest albums . Br Peter, Marist vestments and a skull with round goldrimmed spec's with his hand round my neck because I did not pass his maths test. Tam Farr and his unauthodox belting technique. Cross country running at a snow covered Loretto. At the time the school intake had to consist of pupils from the local catchment area,so guys from Blackhill,Calton and Riddrie used to have cultural exchanges with the less fortunate from Bearsden and Newton Mearns. I recall a new boy arrived in 2nd year, a tall red haired Austrailian who drew the attention of a group of bullies. One of the gang thought he could make name for himself and picked a fight with Mark ( I think that was his name ). He launched a crude attack and soon became the recipient of a lesson in the noble are of pugilism. Marks defensive movement coupled with a accurate and ferocious attack entertained all who watched. The poor ned had hoped the rest of the gang would "hander" him but they were not too keen and Mark did not have a glove put on him. Looking at the photographs taken in the 70's it seems the school was in some kind of time warp.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 14th Aug 2008, 12:37am

Re. Al Symer's posting -- Can't help thinking your Aussie buddy Mark must've done something awful in an earlier life to warrant such a horrendous punishment - transportation from The Colonies to a life of misery in the Mother Country in the late '60' - early '70's... a sorry fate indeed. What we would refer to here as ' Cruel and Unusual Punishment '. I recall those trips out to Loretto also - we would get dropped off at that roundabout on the main drag leaving us to walk the last half-mile or so. By the time we were in 3rd Year few of us had any interest in the sporting life so we would walk that half mile as slowly as possible until almost everyone was either out of sight or far enough ahead of us that we could make good our escape un-noticed - over the fence into the field, crouched down behind the hedge and heading back the way we had just come in a ditch that paralleled the road, keeping a wary eye out for any stragglers or teachers who may be wise to our antics... Making it safely back to the roundabout but staying concealed until the bus showed up, on more than one occasion scaring the crap out of the driver to see a half-dozen wretches suddenly spring from the undergrowth and swarm all over his bus. Bro. Peter I do not recall, although retribution for (miserably) failing a math test was dealt out in no uncertain terms in the form of a vicious belting from Good Ol' Eddie Onion himself, our very own Prince of Darkness... The one consolation being that about 90% of the class suffered the same fate. At the other end of the scale though I scored 94% and 96% for French and Latin respectively and instead of a nod of approval or congratulations the bastards made me sit both tests again, scoring the same for French but 98% for Latin and when I questioned them as to why I didn't get credited with the higher score I was reminded that The Mungo was a selective school and did not have to tolerate upstarts which appeared to be the general consensus among the older faculty members of the late '60s. To this day I often wonder where they found the time to teach since so much of their day was spent walking on water...

Posted by: Kentigern 25th Aug 2008, 06:51pm

QUOTE (Michael Docherty @ 1st Aug 2008, 08:16am) *
In response to Kenny Nicholas - Brother Joseph - Right !! Who then was Bro. Aiden? Our 5th Year form teacher was one of the Brothers and possibly Bro. Aiden - a good-humored, balding little fella who asked on the first day of the term " Does anyone in the room have any interest in Religion ? " and when almost no-one responded in the affirmative he thanked us all for wasting neither his or our time and we were at liberty to occupy the first 45 minutes of each school day reading or doing the homework we should have done the night before, just as long as we did it quietly. Fair enough. Your cousin was my geography teacher in 4th Year at The Barony but unfortunately we did not hit it off - As the only child of two Irish parents I had a trace of an Irish accent which Mr. Nicholas seemed to take immediate exception to plus the fact that I had an obsession with motorcycles which he also seemed to take exception to, even going so far as to suggest that I may consider a scooter instead. I informed him that since I was neither a woman nor a poseur such a consideration stood about as much chance as the proverbial snowball in hell. I don' t know if he was a scooter freak and perhaps took the remark personally but the wisecrack did little to improve student / teacher relationships. He was a spiffy dresser though - well do I recall the shimmering two-tone suits, the sharp rose-tinted glasses and the plethora of gold jewelry. And re. Physics teacher McHugh and his lack of a sense of humor - A very un-sportsmanly display from an alleged sportsman.
Bro Jo was the local Headie, at the Kent and was indeed the voice on the Tannoy. Pueri ignavi and gedt innnn line 2c were never far from his lips. 8,000 capstan full strength the lungs filtered a day. it was always brilliant when he forgot to switch the mike off and would demand of wee skinny Mary (the Sec) for another cup of tea.

Justinian folklore for future fun. I started in '71 and a few of my family taught there, none less than my beloved pater.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 29th Aug 2008, 06:46am

Al Symer

it was the 23rd Precinct as it was in 23 Bath Street. I think it might still be there.

http://www.23rdprecinct.co.uk/

Posted by: Mike Docherty 29th Aug 2008, 07:39am

Well do I remember 23rd Precinct - That subterranean, musical treasure-trove on Bath St. where I blew a small fortune on singles at 7/6 a pop and the odd album at 17/11 - when we weren't fattening their coffers we were spending it at Hades on Sauchiehall St... At least until Virgin Records came along with their lower prices and the irresistible incentive of the free plastic album sleeve with every purchase - how could anyone refuse such temptation ?

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 2nd Sep 2008, 02:23pm

I was reading the comments about St Kentigern's with interest although it was the one annex I never attended, apart from induction day when some Brother told the assembled new pupils and parents that NIL SINE LABORE stood for "Nothing but work" and NOT "No sign of work". I had always assumed the Kent was for the high flyers who had passed their quallies with the highest marks as it always had an air of superiority about it which led to some rivalry with the other annexes.
Like a previous poster, I too pleaded with my folks to transfer me to my local junior secondary - St Roch's which all my pals from primary school had joined - as I hated first year. My mother being a bit more worldly wise could see the local gang culture taking off in Garngad back in the early 60's and would not budge in transferring me and made me tough it out. Looking back, she did the right thing as many of the guys I went to primary with ended up embroiled in local gang warfare. I made new pals at the Mungo and drifted away from all my old pals all in my teens which was my old dear's master plan all along.
I agree some of the Marist Brothers were a bit pervy in their treatment of us back then but we all had the savvy to know what was going on and managed to deal with their advances. From memory, most subjects in Parson Street were headed by a Brother and I remember a particularly nasty one, Brother Gerard from memory, who headed up the Chemistry department, and used to make unannounced appearances in our class and verbally abuse our Chemistry teacher, Dr MacLeod in front of the class. I only found out later that Dr MacLeod, a gentle man and a great teacher, was one of the few Protestant teachers at St Mungo's and this treatment was presumably some abuse for him not seeing the light of the one true faith. (Sound familiar today with the same approach from Muslims).
As I mentioned in a previous post, I hated the first 3 years at St Mungo's and only settled down to enjoy the last 3 years, probably a lot to do with maturity. I also enjoyed Barony and Parson Street annexes better than the stalag that was Kennedy Street. All the annexes had their quotas of teachers with sadistic tendencies as most schools had but we also had some great teachers who made a lasting impression for the better.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 3rd Sep 2008, 09:50pm

In response to Big Arturo - You pretty much hit the nail on the head with your assessment of St. Kent's and it's ' ...air of superiority ' reputation. There was indeed a certain pecking order which established itself almost from Day One - you could see lines being drawn up where certain groups, ie the spawn of more affluent parentage seemed to gravitate towards each other as if by some inner radar as did, God forbid - the offspring of schoolteachers, so few of whom realized they were only there because of whose child they were - now forming their self-styled elitist groups which was not only smiled upon by the school itself but was encouraged and even " ...expected of them ! " as I once heard Dear Old Tommy Farr put it - " The Future Pillars of our Society! " The older teachers ( the majority ) at St. Kent's still swore by that Rule Britannia, King & Country - " Fix Bayonets ! " mentality ( which I may have referred to once as ' Victorian ' or ' Puritanical ' so allow me to take the opportunity right now to apologize to any Victorians or Puritans I may have inadvertently offended by such association ) - whereas the younger teachers did not. Neither did they appear to care much for the wedge that the older teachers tried to force between the kids and their peers - On several occasions I found myself being referred to as a Bogtrotter by one of our French teachers Big Sam McManus who, although not one of the older teachers was definitely climbing that ladder and knew which side of the bread his butter was on. I thought it a little odd, these pokes at the Irish coming from someone whose own name suggested there may have been one or two Micks in the woodpile where his own lineage was concerned...God Bless him though - he would round off each barrage of insults with a well-rehearsed little laugh and inform me that " - it could be worse, Docherty - you could be a Tally! " Occasionally he would use the word " Wop " to insult our classmates of Mediterranean origin as well as to display his immensely broad grasp of the language.
He once berated a kid for poor performance on a test and then for the benefit of the rest of the class saw fit to round off his tirade with the witty barb - " What would you expect from a boy whose parents send him to school wearing a blazer with the school badge SEWN ON !!! " Roars of laughter...
Nothing for it but to laugh along with your buddies who were laughing right along with you - or at you. I'm sure Big Sam often wondered who repeatedly put those thumbtacks on his chair or stole that notorious white leather belt of his and tossed it into the concrete foundations of a new architectural monstrosity they were building in Townhead at the time... "Payback" as they say is indeed a " Bitch"... " Kennedy St " and it's students was used as the butt of so many of the teachers' jokes and according to them was regarded as second rate and they encouraged the superior St. Kent's Elitists to see it the same way... If you chose to be neither an ass-kisser or a backstabber then you were indeed in the minority and had to keep a low profile with not a whole lot of allies - I had already spent the longest 2 years of my life getting through ( almost ) to the end of my second year and as Third year was on the horizon I was being led to believe ( thanks to 2 years of indoctrination ) that I would now be rubbing shoulders with a horde of low-class, dim-bulb Kennedy St. mutants when I went to Barony Street... As that 2nd year drew to a close there were rumors that there was to be an experimental Art Specialists' class for 3rd Year students in The Barony starting in the new school year ( Aug ' 69 ). This put a new complexion on things. Evidently there was new wave of students showing some artistic flair and this new class was something positive to look forward to... Even if it didn' t work out it would the countdown to my 15th Birthday a little easier. See what you missed, Arturo ? Oh, as a PS -- Not ALL the kids of schoolteachers were dicks - sometimes you ran across a decent one -- Billy Edwards - You know who you are !!! Your little brother, however.....

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 5th Sep 2008, 11:30am

Michael,

I note your previous comments about privilege and can confirm it was not only the Kent where it went on. We had an Italian in our class at Kennedy Street who was a right numpty academic-wise and never passed an exam. It was obvious to all that he had failed his quallie and by law as it was then, should not have been at a senior secondary. We suspected a generous donation had been made to the Marist Brothers fund for him to gain entry. His folks used to turn up every day outside the main gate of Kennedy Street in their big American style car (quite a sight in the Toonheid of the early 60’s) and hand his lunch over to him in front of all the peons. This was a daily ritual and was no doubt to impress the lesser breeds as I’m sure he could have taken a packed lunch with him when he left home in the morning. Our French teacher at the time, Jimmy Byrne, had him sussed and treated him with contempt. He was the first instance I saw of paying other pupils for a copy of their homework as he was incapable of completing any of the exercises himself. A classic example of the old Dylan line “Money doesn’t talk, it screams”. In retrospect, it didn’t really matter that he never got an “O” level or Higher, daddy would no doubt look after him when he left school. It just looked better on his c.v. that he attended St Mungo’s rather than a bog standard junior secondary.
There was also a bit of class division when it came to sports with the guys from the schemes all into football and the suburban pupils very much into rugby. It seems to be a particularly Scottish trait to view rugby as a middle class sport as it was the exact opposite in the north of England and the Welsh valleys. As a Garngad boy, it was a no brainer in which sport I would participate. I remember in second year out at Loretto, the P.T. teacher was separating the wheat from the chaff (rugger or footie) and we all got some rugby tackling exercises. I brought down a few fellow pupils with flying tackles when the teacher warned me that with my rugby tackling technique, I was in danger of breaking my neck. It took me all of two seconds to join the football team as a sore leg seemed eminently preferable to a broken neck, wus that I was.
St Mungo’s had some amount of football teams and I remember looking up the green Evening Citizen (as opposed to pink Evening times) on a Saturday night checking out how our particular team got on as they published the Saturday school footie results. I think they were the best school team in Glasgow covering most year groups and remember going to many a final at Roseberry Park in Oatlands to cheer them on.
Happy days (most of them).

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 5th Sep 2008, 07:18pm

Obviously there were some amount of snobs at Saint Mungo's Academy but if one had money one sent one's boy to St. Aloysius College where the Jesuits offered a higher class of education. Some said your father had to be a priest before you could get a place in this Garnethill school but given the number of sons of bookies and publicans in the classes money talked.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 6th Sep 2008, 05:03am

Jeez, I thought the chicanery I had witnessed at The Kent was pretty blatant and extreme but driving up in the family Caddie just to deliver lunch to # 1 son shows about as much class as being caught with one of those Mexican velvet Elvis wall-hangings in your living room - Evidently it never crossed the minds of Mama & Papa that if they had spent a little less on the auto they could have bought Junior a better spot in either Duke St. or, as Dexter mentioned St. Aloysius. The only kid I ever knew who attended St. Aloysius lived 'round the corner from me ( Kelvin Hall - although he insisted he hailed from ' Overnewton ', the older name for the same area with which he hoped to bedazzle people unfamiliar with his neighborhood ) in a rundown tenement not unlike myself. His parents were both Irish and did as much as they could to bury that fact and pass themselves off as being a little more affluent than they really were and their arrogance was handed down to their offspring - I can't remember the kid's name but he was one of the most contemptible, snotty twerps I ever met who put in a lot of overtime trying to cultivate a phony ' Pan-bread ' accent and this was at age 12 ! His bizarre gibberish always invite strange sideways glances from anyone who didn't know him and elicited howls of laughter from those of us who did which would result in a screaming tirade of abuse from the kid and when his folks came to rescue him from the clutches of the common savages ( me ) it was always accompanied by a blizzard of threats of legal retaliation - You couldn't even laugh around this kid or they' d have you arrested ... The favoritism and snobbery didn' t suddenly surface with the onset of a secondary education though as anyone who ever had a schoolteacher's kid for a classmate will know - when I was about 7 years old a new kid came into the class - a teacher's kid who, from that day forth became head of the class at every exam regardless of how smart or dense he was - one of those ' Unwritten Rules ' of school politics back in the day. The kid who aced every exam up until then was relegated to 2nd place in favor of the teacher's kid but this class's teacher had cojones enough to lodge a formal protest with the school's Powers-That-Be against a policy which she found unacceptable but rather than score a blow for fairness it resulted in her almost immediate dismissal... Unwritten Rules... I breezed into the Mungo fairly easily with one other kid from my class, a teacher's son, believe it or not ( - not the same teacher's son as before-) which left one of my other classmates a totally hysterical screaming wreck, unable to accept the fact that he hadn' t ' made it ' - Hell, I would've given him my spot if I'd had my way since I had almost no desire to go there in the first place but due to the outrageous level of asskissing and sucking-up on the part of his parents towards Bro. Kenneth and his familiars up at Parson St. the kid was right there, front & center, first day of first year at St. Kent's. I will give him credit though - although his entry to The Mungo was somewhat enhanced he did bust his hump to get in and continued to bust his hump to stay in a school where he wanted to be - Me, I got in easily to a place I didn' t particularly want to be and it took all of about 15 minutes to realize I had made the wrong decision and spent the next two years paying for it. Arturo was in the same boat but his mom wouldn't let him transfer... my folks encouraged me to give it a shot and if it still didn't work out then they wouldn't force me to stay but at 12 years of age I succumbed to the guilt-trip and stayed anyway. It surprised me to find there were a few who were in the same situation, staying where we were to make someone else happy and so we hunkered down, a confederation of inmates at Duke St. Maximum Security Penitentiary to weather the storm ...

Posted by: pianoplayer 9th Sep 2008, 10:24am

I have read through the comments on St Mungo’s. I remember all the teachers from the 60’s mentioned, some missed out, Mr Ennis and Fleming the Science Teacher. Ennis the only teacher that gave 105% for a Latin exam --extra 5 points for good writing—not me. I feel uncomfortable reading your stories. I was born in Ireland but was never part of an Irish scene or football. I did not agree with the Pope or Vatican 11 in the 60’s and gave up Catholicism, never to return. St Mungo’s has never appeared on my CV although I still have the tie, and the scarf that Savage like to belt people for wearing in class. Still have the FP scarf. Strachan took a boy out for the belt who put on a dummy hand. When Strachan hit him the hand fell off---eyes out on stalks. We had a number of fashions like peashooters, although dried rice was preferred. It stung when you got hit on the back of the neck. I used to race the Trolley Bus down the High St to save the fare. Spent the money on a single cigarette. Sneaking past wee Barrie in the morning-- Guardian of the gates. His belt must have been well worn. I remember one fellow swigging a bottle of Advocat every time the teacher turned round to write in the board.
Although I took a career direction unusual for St Mungo’s it stood me in good stead.

I return to Glasgow now and again just to wander around, but do not know anybody that lives there any more.

Posted by: Heather 9th Sep 2008, 11:53am

Being a school girl of the 50s I ofcourse never went to St. Mungo's, but I and other girls did go to some of their football matches with the St. Mungo boys who lived near us in Barlanark.

We always had a good laugh with them, especially when some of the boys had stolen what they said was the school bell, and they continually rang it during the football match. laugh.gif

Posted by: Guest PaulK * 12th Sep 2008, 11:12pm

Photos of Brothers Adrian and Alan at a 150th anniversary of the Marist brothers are here.
http://www.paulmcsherry.co.uk/22.html
Looking kind of old but recognisible.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 13th Sep 2008, 07:02am

In response to ' pianoplayer's posting - During my time at The Mungo I knew a fair amount of guys with a warped sense of humor ( - I' ll toot my own horn here and include myself in their ranks ) but the incidents pianoplayer wrote about were an absolute scream... Oh, to be a fly on the wall for the ' False Hand ' prank and the Advocaat thing was pretty damn funny too. In third year at the barony I once dealt out a little punishment to a fellow classmate who was fairly disliked by his peers as he was revealed to be one of the school's biggest stool-pigeons, constantly blabbing on people for the most trivial things so it was decided something should be done about him and, as I sat directly behind him in Math class the job fell in my lap. Our third year Math teacher was a drunk who always came back late after lunch, reeking of booze - I can't remember his name but he was a scary-looking character - very thin with a skeletal, lantern-jawed face topped off with a U.S. Marines - style buzzcut. He also wore an enormous pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses like two TV screens perched on his beak of a nose. He didn't care much for our class informer though... He would stagger into the classroom after his lunchtime debauch and find himself suddenly confronted by this annoying snot who was babbling out a list of what everyone had been doing or saying when they should have been diligently studying but things were about to change. Our teacher was in especially bad shape that day - he told us to read quietly to ourselves or basically do whatever we wanted to do so long as we did it in a noiseless fashion - he was in dire need of rest so he fell asleep face-down on the desk and I waited for about ten minutes before going to work on the Informer. About half the class had dozed off by this point so I was able to concentrate on the task at hand. I pulled the ancient Magnifying Glass trick on him, focusing the beam of sunlight on the back of his neck - he reached back on a couple of occasions for a quick scratch and even looked back at me in suspicion once but the guy was not the sharpest tack in the box and failed to put two and two together until it was too late - The back of his neck finally erupted in a huge, smoking blister and he flew to his feet screaming a string of curses, causing not only our teacher but about a dozen or so of my classmates to jerk awake with a mixture of yelps and shouts - The Informer had knocked his own desk over when he shot to his feet and the momentum carried him forward on top of the poor bastard in front of him who suddenly awoke thinking he was being attacked and they both went down shrieking, throwing punches and kicks in every direction until they were pulled apart. The Informer's initial howl of agony had obviously scared the crap out of our Math teacher judging by the expression on his face as he reeled along the aisle between the desks in his drunken stupor... he pulled the pair apart, demanding an explanation for the outburst as they both yelled and accused each other then the informer suddenly glanced in my direction. He pointed at me and shouted out " He did it - Docherty started it, Sir !!! " - and as if on cue the majority of the class pointed at The Informer and shouted back in reply " Liar ! It was HIM, Sir - He did it ! " This outrageous betrayal set The Informer off on a binge of shouts and curses and at one point our Math teacher even had him by the throat as he struggled to drag him out of the classroom and deliver him to Farmer Kelly's office for the appropriate discipline. One of the Brothers came into the classroom later and cleared out all of The Informer's stuff and that was that. We never saw him again. No doubt his parents were a tad reluctant to allow their pride and joy to continue attending a place where his fellow classmates tried to set him on fire and teachers did their level best to choke the very life out of him. Good riddance. The downside however was that our Math teacher also vanished a couple of weeks later. If his dismissal was connected to the ' Informer ' incident I would imagine everyone in the class would've been questioned on the matter. We would' ve lied like a roomful of politicians on our teacher's behalf so I would hazard a guess and say he was let go due to the fact that he was always loaded. Not a bad prank as pranks go but the one I remember that raised the most hell was during my 5th year when someone targeted a statue of one of the Saints in the chapel - one of the statues in their niches along the walls held a book in one hand as he gazed aloft, a look of placid optimism on his face with his other hand gesturing skyward, palm turned outward -- well, the cover of the book he held just happened to be painted red and some adventurous soul sneaked in there in broad daylight and with an ink marker wrote on the cover -- " The Thoughts of Chairman Mao " in big black letters and the ensuing but futile witch-hunt went on for months. I would love to take credit for that one but on this occasion I must tip my hat to a superior prankster. The stuff legends are made of.

Posted by: pianoplayer 15th Sep 2008, 07:21pm

I had a look at the photos sent by Guesspaulk* . I remember Smungo’s Church to be a bit gloomier, a creepy place where you would not want to spend the night. Seeing the Brothers in Civvies was a shock. Nice to know there is a generation in front of me still living. Brings back memories of forgetting your doing a Novena until the last minute and you have not washed and ironed your Surplice—very embarrassing. Having a tickly throat when you are doing Thurible---murder. Eating crisps during pontifical high mass. A deum qui le tificat pipe clay up the lum ---before breakfast.
I remember making up some good sins for confession and the priest nearly coming out to murder me. He was still growling as I left the side entrance.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 17th Sep 2008, 04:15am

I must agree with 'pianoplayer's assessment of The Mungo church as depicted in the photographs of the 150th - looks like they finally sprung for some sandblasting or browbeat the congregation into doing some serious scrubbing with bleach because that place was nowhere near that bright when I was there. We used to get forced into going to a 30-minute mass there on the first Friday of every month and we would hide in the stalls in the toilets- standing on the toilet with the stall door closed was so obvious that you were sure to get caught so we would leave the door halfway open and you could still lean far enough to one side that you were invisible enough the Ol' Farmer Kelly would give the stall a cursory glance as he did his rounds and when you heard the singing of The Righteous drifting across the street and the Mass had started you knew you were well on the way to freedom - a quick glance out into Parson St. - give the ' all clear ' signal then everyone would scuttle out in single file in a crouch using all the tactics we had learned from watching endless episodes of ' Combat ' until you could hop into one of the many craters in the wasteland that made up Townhead... There were acres of desolation where blocks of tenements had been demolished to make way, presumably for new housing and the whole area resembled Berlin circa 1945 and we would hunker down in one of these big holes, shooting the odd glance towards the church or any windows of the school where we might be spied upon and when we were certain that our moves had gone undetected we would make good our escape into town for an overly long lunchbreak and maybe a game or two of snooker in a huge basement place that may have been in the basements of the Evening Times building down near Argyle St. By then the whole Religion thing was taken seriously by so very few of us that it had become a joke. When I was a kid in primary school I had gotten into the habit of not going to mass simply because I just couldn' t be bothered, much to the chagrin of my parents - even at that age I found it pointless - but there was the odd occasion when you had to show up and do the whole gig, communion and everything and I cannot for the life of me remember the reason for this but as a result I wound up going to a late Saturday evening confession at St. Peter's in Partick. There was a serious Fire & Brimstone priest there that everyone was terrified of - He was an ancient Irish fella by the name of O'Leary and had one of the fiercest tempers I had ever witnessed, clergy or otherwise and I remember him once during an impromptu school inspection when he backhanded a 5-year old kid across the face for being unable to recite some prayer or other like a parrot. He was one of the Priests in attendance when I went for confession that Saturday night and I noticed right away no-one was in any hurry to become a victim so they were all staying well away from his confessional. I had concocted a scheme over the years where confession was concerned regarding missing mass - I would tell the priest I had missed mass once ( which was a lie ) then round off the whole list of my transgressions with a casual " .. and I told a few lies ..." . A half-dozen Hail Mary's I would leave the church all shiny and pure of soul. Problem solved. I must've had a deathwish that night because I strode right into O'Leary's confessional, the very Maw of Death itself and gave him the entire shopping-list of reasons why I should spend the next few millenia burning in Hell and I could tell he was uneasy at the candor of my confession, especially when I came to the last bit about missing mass and he asked me " How Many Times?!! " and I told him " No idea, Father "... He now started in on a rant that was rapidly escalating in volume, accompanied by much foot-stomping and I could see his silhouette gesticulating wildly through the screen separating us. He snarled something about " how could you not know something like that --- " and then cut short, realizing there was more to this problem and followed it up with " WHY did you miss Mass ?? He was bellowing now but when I answered him with " I didn' t feel like going - I couldn' t be bothered. " there was a brief second of total silence and then I guess the penny dropped and he roared at the top of his lungs " YOU LITTLE TINKER!!! " --- This was the start of a long slobbering tirade that was mostly gibberish but I could tell there were points where he lapsed into his streams of expletives in his native Gaelic but it was wasted on me - The moment he made the 'Tinker' crack I decided that was about as much as I needed to hear and strolled on out of the confessional to find every head in the place turned and glowering at me, looks of shock and disbelief not to mention accusation - some people had even jumped to their feet in alarm at the racket. Evidently O'Leary was unaware of my departure as his screaming rant continued - I headed down the steps to the street, aware of all the pairs of eyes boring into the back of my head and I could still hear O'Leary yelling and shouting at the end of the block, eventually fading away as I headed for home. O'Leary made it as far as becoming a Canon and probably never came to terms with the fact that he would not be Pope. I, on the other hand never saw the inside of a confessional again but on ( very ) rare occasions have ventured inside the walls of a church, usually for a wedding or when someone has kicked the proverbial bucket. I never did develop the resentment that many felt for the negative aspects of that particular indoctrination - I always had a rather warped sense of humor and could always derive much more satisfaction through mockery and good-natured derision. Humor wins out every time.

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 19th Sep 2008, 01:10pm

Great posting, Michael – the story of the magnifying glass and the resultant melee had me in stitches. We had a similar Maths teacher who enjoyed a snifter at lunchtime which he tried to cover up by smoking cigars in the staff room but you could still smell the booze.
Regarding pianoplayer’s memories of Mr Ennis ensuring his class all passed their exams, I am assuming this is the same Mr Ennis who also taught English and was affectionately known as Big Shug. I well remember sitting our English prelim and entering the class to find Shuggy boy already there and writing all the answers to the exam questions on the blackboard. I don’t know if teachers had to meet performance targets in those days but Mr Ennis must have put the largest numbers of pupils forward to sit “O” levels and Highers than any other – everyone passed their prelims.
The useless would no doubt be found out on the day of the actual “O” Level and Higher exams but Shuggy boy had done his bit and put the boys forward and the rest was up to us. Shug had a touchy-feely tendency towards the more well developed boys and would no doubt be classed as gay if teaching today.
On the subject of religion, I came from a mixed marriage – my mother was from Orange stock and my old man was forever declaring his Catholic faith after a few shandies, despite the last time he had been to church was the day he got married. His version of Catholicism entailed standing in the Jungle most weeks singing Celtic songs. I soon developed a healthy disdain of religion being brought up in this environment and remain an atheist to this day. R.K. was one of the most boring subjects taught at school and was usually timetabled the half hour before lunch when our minds were on our rumbling bellies and a trip to Gizzi’s Caf at the lunch break. We were also regular doggers of the First Friday mass and mostly managed to avoid the Farmer’s playground toilet patrol to round up any infidels who did not wish to participate. When you are 15 or 16, there are so many things to get up to instead of standing / kneeling and singing hymns for an hour.
I stopped going to church not long after my first communion and only had to endure confession once at St Mungo’s, relating the usual teenage licentious thoughts and abuse only to be given 6 Hail Mary’s for my sins.
We were discussing the old school over a cold beer the other week with my pals and having a laugh as to who could recite The Magnificat or The Confiteor from memory, prayers we were forced to learn by heart. The prize for the person who could remember the most prayer lines was to buy the company a round and glad to say it wasn’t me.
I recently met an old classmate I had not seen for over 30 years and he was still involved in the F.P.’s and invited me along to a mass they hold in St Mungo’s church on a Saturday morning. I thanked him for the offer but had to decline for other commitments !
Keep the postings coming, guys. It just takes the mention of a long forgotten teacher or incident and the memories come flooding back. Someone should get all these memories down on paper as they would make a great book but I’m not sure they would get the Marist Brothers approval on the dust jacket !

Posted by: Michael Docherty 26th Sep 2008, 01:11am

Re. Arturo's posting - When we write the ' Memoirs of the Lost Mungo Generation ' we'll circumvent the whole ' approval ' thing by calling it the UN-official Biography and avoid any veto from on high. I took a look through the photos of the Mungo 150th Anniversary Bash and was surprised to see nary a single Brother in the traditional black stormtrooper's uniform but clad instead in civilian garb so I have to assume they're now involved in some kind of Covert Operations, hence the disguise. It took a minute or so but I finally recognized Bro. Alan, he of the once-bristling jet-black hair and clacking teeth but if it had not been for the caption that accompanied the photograph I doubt if I would have recognized Bro. Adrian - he reminded me more of an ancient and tiny version of Bilbo Baggins preparing to depart for The Grey Havens... I liked him for his wicked sense of humor which seemed to slip away from him as he became more serious about his ascent to the Headmaster's position but he was the only one I found who was willing to negotiate on the problem of ' Long hair' -- " If you wear the uniform then you can grow your hair - IF you keep it tidy! " Fair enough. Old Farmer Kelly was not quite so flexible on the subject unfortunately. Despite 'Farmer' and the whole 'Hair' business my 3rd year at The Mungo was great and the first time I felt any way optimistic about school since the day I set foot in the place. I had been able to sneak a glimpse of the Barony and Parson St. towards the end of 2nd year when we were floating in that post-exam Limbo with a month or so to kill before the official end of the term... Somehow I got roped into running an errand for Brother Lucas, the headmaster who replaced the curmudgeony Bro. Joseph and no matter how hard they tried, the reek of his cigarettes polluted the place to the extent that you were in the habit of breathing through your teeth if you came within 30 feet of the office door. He brandished a letter which he insisted had to be hand-delivered immediately to a fellow member of his Coven at the Parson St. Building and insisted I should not go alone.. I thought this odd but any excuse to goof off for a couple of hours was fine by me so me 'n' Big Jim Carmichael headed up to The Barony & Parson St. to get a look at what our 3rd year held in store for us. The whole atmosphere of the place was so different from St. Kent's and students walked around, some even sporting optimistic smiles on their faces (!), conversing openly without some socially-constipated troll of a teacher hissing at them to be quiet and hurry to class... There was a different attitude in the way the teachers related to the kids - they seemed to treat them more like adults and spoke to them instead of ' at them '. I actually found myself looking forward to the start of that school year. That summer was one of the best - Men walked on the Moon that July and there was a sizeable gathering of music fans in a rural backwater in Upstate New York called Woodstock and the other side of the coin was the mayhem perpetrated by Charlie Manson and his followers but there was optimism in the form of a new stage musical entitled ' Hair ' recently imported from New York that was taking the theatres of the Western World by storm and supposedly had naked women gyrating around on stage - The future was full of possibilities and so, armed with this knowledge we launched headfirst into our 3rd year.

Posted by: Stuart Greenshields 27th Sep 2008, 03:37am

I went to the Mungo betwen 1960 and 65 i remember Bro Gerard who always smelled of chemicals and brought down that dangly pompom thing on our heads as he walked past also mr O'Gorman and the wee bean. I started at Rigby St do you remember if you went to rigby st the day the rumour went round that we were finishing at 3 even the teachers believed it so when the bell went at 3 we all took off but the gates were closed that did stop us some of the first scaled the gates and got away before the Bean came out shouting at the top of his voice for us to come back. Remember when wee Joe used to go into the toilets at parson st swing his belt and a handkerchief over his nose and mouth and the bodies coming over the top of the toilet. Also remember the time we had our first female student and she had to walk the balcony above the playground to the teachers common room. Bro Christopher who ran the rowing team we never got beaten by a Proddie school and bro le perque who kept us 5B boys from getting into his higher french class until 3 months had gone and the inevitable happened Mr byrne was our french teacher as was a Mr Ryan who we could always get to tell us about his war exploits rather than teach French. Mr Brinckley the P.E. teacher who when he got married we sent him a anon valentine card for a laugh. Also do you remember when the Rugby guys picked up Mr Ryans 2CV car and walked round the corner with it and parked it up

Posted by: bilbo.s 27th Sep 2008, 01:51pm

Great entertaining reading, you guys!

I had a few friends who went to your school in late 50's-all belonged to Shettleston but I can't trace any of them unfortunately. I was a proddie but , as with most rational people, friendship was not affected by those devices of division. I hope I was with the majority there- I like to think so.

Posted by: stugre 30th Sep 2008, 07:22am

well here we go again tried replying but doesn't seem to have come up
I went to the Mungo betwen 1960 and 65 started at Rigby street remember the pot belly stoves in the classroom that we used to smoke out the class with so we had to be split up into different classes. sat in the back of Mr Ennis's Latin Class, wasn't thought bright enough to take Latin, when we were split remember him getting mad when they chanted amo, amas, amat and one of us ring ins chanted I am mouse, am dog am a cat. I remember one day at Rigby st when the rumour went round that svhool was finishing at 3 everyone thought this was right even the teachers and low and behold the bell rang at 3 so we all took off for the gate which needless to say were locked that didn't stop the first one there who scaled the gate. The wee bean who was head at the time came out shouting come back come back. I also remember Farmer kelly with his hat and trench coat under his gown and when we had to read it would OOP on the desk OOP on the desk so we would be standing onour desks above everyone reading. Then Wee Joe the asst head at the time at Parsons St going into the toilets handkerchief over his mouth and nose swing his belt and boys coming out over walls and through the door. Then the time at Parsons St when the rugby guys picked up Mr Ryans ( French Teacher) car and took it round the corner. Do any of you remember the day the whole of Parsons St and I think Baroney St were out in the road between the two schools waiting for the Proddie school to come down as a challange had gone out after one of our guys had been stabbed by one of theirs the bell rang for start of school after lunch no one moved no teachers came out then they did and we trickled back in needless to say the other school didn,t turn up or there would have been a pitch battle.
I remember Cecil too intelligent and simple to be a teacher A story I was told that he was given one of these bangers which had been lit but gun powder removed, which he didn,t know about and he stood there shaking
I remember chalk and dusters being thrown at us by teachers .
Mr Byrne went off to Canada to teach and that was the last I heard of him he was a great French teacher Mr Ryan the other French teacher we used to get to telling us about his war exploits rather than teach us French and Bro Le perque who would let us lesser mortals into his higher french class not until 3 month had passed so we all failed the schedules
I remember when we had the O'Levels exams on we didn't need to go to school but my pals and i went and we took a crate of milk up to the class to drink between the 4 of us as they still delivered the regular milk. Do you remember the snow int playground in Parson St the janitor would brush it up into 2 piles at either end and we would have snow ball fights or Ice fights. Remember the first time we had a female teacher and she had to walk acroos the balcony above the playground to the staff room you don't do that in a male only school
These are just some of the funny things that happened when I was there hope they give you alaugh or jog you memory
I went bak to Crown point Rd after I found Parson St had been Demolished in 1979 and Bro Adrienne was the Head I asked him about some of the people I new and he went odd on me when I mentioned Kieran Patton can any of you shed any light as to why
Stu

Posted by: stugre 30th Sep 2008, 07:39am

well here we go again tried replying but doesn't seem to have come up
I went to the Mungo betwen 1960 and 65 started at Rigby street remember the pot belly stoves in the classroom that we used to smoke out the class with so we had to be split up into different classes. sat in the back of Mr Ennis's Latin Class, wasn't thought bright enough to take Latin, when we were split remember him getting mad when they chanted amo, amas, amat and one of us ring ins chanted I am mouse, am dog am a cat. I remember one day at Rigby st when the rumour went round that svhool was finishing at 3 everyone thought this was right even the teachers and low and behold the bell rang at 3 so we all took off for the gate which needless to say were locked that didn't stop the first one there who scaled the gate. The wee bean who was head at the time came out shouting come back come back. I also remember Farmer kelly with his hat and trench coat under his gown and when we had to read it would OOP on the desk OOP on the desk so we would be standing onour desks above everyone reading. Then Wee Joe the asst head at the time at Parsons St going into the toilets handkerchief over his mouth and nose swing his belt and boys coming out over walls and through the door. Then the time at Parsons St when the rugby guys picked up Mr Ryans ( French Teacher) car and took it round the corner. Do any of you remember the day the whole of Parsons St and I think Baroney St were out in the road between the two schools waiting for the Proddie school to come down as a challange had gone out after one of our guys had been stabbed by one of theirs the bell rang for start of school after lunch no one moved no teachers came out then they did and we trickled back in needless to say the other school didn,t turn up or there would have been a pitch battle.
I remember Cecil too intelligent and simple to be a teacher A story I was told that he was given one of these bangers which had been lit but gun powder removed, which he didn,t know about and he stood there shaking
I remember chalk and dusters being thrown at us by teachers .
Mr Byrne went off to Canada to teach and that was the last I heard of him he was a great French teacher Mr Ryan the other French teacher we used to get to telling us about his war exploits rather than teach us French and Bro Le perque who would let us lesser mortals into his higher french class not until 3 month had passed so we all failed the schedules
I remember when we had the O'Levels exams on we didn't need to go to school but my pals and i went and we took a crate of milk up to the class to drink between the 4 of us as they still delivered the regular milk. Do you remember the snow int playground in Parson St the janitor would brush it up into 2 piles at either end and we would have snow ball fights or Ice fights. Remember the first time we had a female teacher and she had to walk acroos the balcony above the playground to the staff room you don't do that in a male only school
These are just some of the funny things that happened when I was there hope they give you alaugh or jog you memory
I went bak to Crown point Rd after I found Parson St had been Demolished in 1979 and Bro Adrienne was the Head I asked him about some of the people I new and he went odd on me when I mentioned Kieran Patton can any of you shed any light as to why
Stu

Posted by: stugre 30th Sep 2008, 07:44am

OOPS sorry guys just getting used to the site posted the same thing 3 times but second time with more info enjoy reading keep getting error messages coming upwhen I do things will get the hang of the site soon
Stu

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 30th Sep 2008, 11:40pm

QUOTE (stugre @ 30th Sep 2008, 09:48am) *
OOPS sorry guys just getting used to the site posted the same thing 3 times but second time with more info enjoy reading keep getting error messages coming upwhen I do things will get the hang of the site soon
Stu



Was St. Mungo's a selective school?

Posted by: stugre 1st Oct 2008, 07:12am

St mungos was a selective school as you had to pass your 11 plus and it meant the first 11 got to go the rest went to St Roches and it mwas an all boys school
Stu

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 1st Oct 2008, 02:18pm

Hi Dexter,

Yes, selective education still existed in the 60's - think it was finally abolished by our city fathers in the 1970's. It was a quite brutal discriminatory system - if you passed your "quallie" (11 plus), you went to a senior secondary (like St Mungo's) and if you failed, you went to a junior secondary (like St Roch's in my area). Looking back, it strikes me that determining someone's future at 12 years old - senior secondary most likely a white collar job, junior secondary most likely a blue collar job was unjust. How many guys who might have become great sculptors but went to senior secondary and never got woodwork as a subject, and how many might have become great doctors but never got the chance to sit appropriate subjects at junior secondary.
Selective education still exists of course but is mostly in the private sector with schools like Hutchie and St Aloysius where the parents have to cough up to 8k per year for the privelege. It's right that it was abolished in the state sector as everyone should have a chance to fulfill their potential and not have their future decided at 12 years of age. Mind you, Tony Blair was trying to bring it back under his "academies of excellence" initiative but was only to be applicable in England.

Posted by: Vince 9th Oct 2008, 06:22am

I have just spent an enjoyable half hour or so reading the reminiscences. Thanks to Frank Murphy for drawing my attention to this site through FriendReunited. The 'Mungo' must have done something right; the posts are all very eloquent and articulate!

If I recall correctly the art teacher on the top floor of Kennedy Street was a Mr. Reid. Tall, thin and moustached, he had a passing resemblance to Eric Blair. (George Orwell)

O'Hanlon was a monster and I can see him still, the way he'd pull his gown tightly around his body whist glaring with sheer contempt at the terrified boys. It wasn't that long after the war and it occurs to me that a lot of the teachers may have been 'damaged goods'. There was one chap, McLelland, who used to tell us tales of his time as a tank commander. I guess he had a 'good war'.

The maths teacher who used to disappear off for refreshment... wasn't he called Farrell?


Re Mike Doherty's memories, I met Brother Alexis in his office in St. Kentigern's too. He had a bit of a spanking fetish, that's for sure. I hadn't the wit to leave the door open. One of my uncles had been a Marist brother and left to get married, and the odd time one of the brethren would ask if I was related, without saying how they knew him. Only years later did I find out why. If ever I get over to Dublin, I must ask him if he and the other brothers were aware of Bro. Alexis' hobby.

It is amazing how the memories come flooding back. Mr. Byrne used to store latecomers in the shelter to the left hand side of the entry in Parson Street, until he got around to dealing with them. He used to refer to this as the 'Child Guidance Clinic' or sometimes 'The Clinic'.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 10th Oct 2008, 05:45am

Yes !! Farrell was indeed the name of our constantly loaded 3rd year math teacher at The Barony - I kept thinking ' McFarland ' or 'McFarlane ' but Vince hit the nail on the head - many thanks for that one and re. 'bilbo s.' s comment about religion affecting friendships -- I honestly think the majority of us had brains enough to realize what a particularly ugly form of politics that organized religion presented and was worth taking with a bucket of salt. I have always been guilty of having a somewhat twisted sense of humor and looked upon things held dear to others to provide me with a target for derision and mockery, religion and politics being at the forefront. This often worked to my detriment - my own parents being both of Donegal origin and somewhat devout Catholics were often appalled at my acts and comments regarding the church and clergy and were convinced that at any given moment I would burst into flames ( " - And Rightly So!!!" ) for my blatant, shameless displays of heresy. I noticed though at The Mungo that the gung-ho religious attitude of the establishment seemed to ease off after 2nd year and I recall our 5th year form teacher - ( Bro. Someone-or-other - ) on the first day of term asked the class for a show of hands - Who was interested in religion ? and when nary a hand was raised he simply nodded and thanked the class as a whole for it's candor. As a result the first period of every day was spent doing pretty much whatever we wanted to do so long as we didn't make any noise doing it. Two years before this event transpired however was the introduction to 3rd year in The Barony, the domain of Headmaster and Grand Inquisitor " Farmer " Kelly...

Posted by: Vince 11th Oct 2008, 05:57pm

I'm glad you're pleased to recall Mr. Farrell's name, Mike! I remember he had a 'whisky nose' that'd easily stop all the traffic.


Another character I remember from my short time in Kennedy Street was an elderly gentleman called 'wee Bennett'. He must have been the only person in Scotland outside of the orange Order to wear a bowler hat. Come to think of it, he might have been in the OO.


When it comes down to matters of faith, I reckon it was more tribal than spiritual; a means of stating identity and community. Probably the post war generation felt more Scottish than Irish or Italian and didn't need the comfort and reassurance of the Church as much as earlier generations. We mixed better too. Nearly all my friends outside school were not Catholic. My father and his friends would barely know anyone outside of work that wasn't.

In hindsight, the all too frequent corporal punishment for gratuitous and frivolous reasons was scandalous. Nowadays there'd be an invasion of social workers investigating child protection issues!

A couple of years ago I was with a friend of mine at an antiques fair and for ten quid we picked up one of those heavy straps they used to belt us with. This specimen looked like the one Brother Mungo owned.
I hadn't clapped eyes on one in forty years and had quite forgotten how nasty they were. My chum was astounded to hear that they used such a vicious instrument on 11-12 year old boys and girls. How could the authorities permit it, and how did parent acquiesce to it? Seeing it and feeling the weight of it, I could hardly believe it either.
Apparently they go for a lot of money on eBay. smile.gif

Posted by: Duck 16th Oct 2008, 11:52am

I have been following this post with such interest and, indeed, a lot of nostalgia that I have at last decided to join up and add my two pennyworth. I realise I run a risk here, however, as I am one of that breed highlighted by Mike Docherty in one of his recent posts- the son of a Mungo teacher. I was pleased to do the calculations and realise that I was two years behind Mike so he couldn’t be referring to me. He could, however, mean my two elder brothers, one of whom who may have been in his year.
My father was Chips Rafferty, as mentioned in BigArturo’s initial post, headmaster at Kennedy Street. I don’t honestly think, though, that being his son, much as I will be eternally proud to be so, ever stood me in any greater stead than my fellow pupils. Perhaps my name would have rung bells at a selection process but as I, and my other three classmates who accompanied me to the Mungo,were always in the top groupings at our primary school I like to think it was our educational prowess that got us in. Certainly I never recall being, or considering myself being, part of an elite; in fact, apart from one other boy, I didn’t know any other teachers’ offsprings.
My “group” at St Kent’s was made up of boys from Riddrie, Blackhill, West End, South Side, Maryhill etc- some places I had only ever heard of beforehand. In my mind there was no similarity in wealth or position or whatever you like to call it; it was just boys that got on together stayed together. In a way, I would even suggest that being a teacher’s son was sometimes a disadvantage as a lot of teachers made great show in letting you know you were never going to receive favouritism, something I had never sought in any case.
I remember being belted by Twang Bowman for making a mistake in an essay set in the war and mentioning “the bombers making their way down the east coast of France “ ( maybe it was a good thing – I was Geography dux the following year!!) Our families lived near each other but a belting was never mentioned or alluded to as I straggled behind him and my father as we strolled to mass together on a Sunday. There was only one teacher, big Mama Ferguson, French teacher from Stirling, who had taught alongside my dad and adored him – something she never stopped letting me know as she would pick me before anyone else to read, thereby inflicting my appalling French accent on my classmates.
There was always the risk, too, that a boy who may have suffered at the hands of my dad would take it out on me. (reference to Vince’s last post – I still have his regulation issue belt!!) Although he never taught me, other than helping with homework (oops, he taught Maths and I failed Maths Higher) I believe the boys he did teach considered him a very fair man. Certainly, it was a delight to hear such tributes from some of his ex-pupils who turned up out of the blue at his funeral in 1999, a good 22 years after retiring.
I have a wonderful memory of those Friday torture sessions in church previously mentioned. My pals and I, not the toughest on the block by any means, were sitting minding our own business, waiting for proceedings to begin. I started to get worried as an unknown boy in the pew in front turned round and looked at me, turned back and nudged the chap next to him who, in turn , looked round at me, turned back and nudged the next fellow, causing a chain reaction the length of the row. Trying not to show the terror on my burning face, thoughts of how I could possibly sneak out of church early and hot-foot it to safety it were flying around in my head. Suddenly the first guy turned round again, looked me in the eyes and asked “ are you Chips Rafferty’s son? “ I ducked my head affirmatively waiting for the worse. “Aw right, pal?” was his reply as he nodded sagely and turned to face the front again. That was the first time I realised that some teachers might actually be respected and that pupils might actually like my Dad!.
Of course, not all teachers, as is obvious from other memories already posted here, did earn or even warrant respect. I remember quite a few of those talked about and have a lot more memories of my own but as I have gone on long enough I shall save them, if not drummed out, for another post.

Posted by: Big Arturo1 28th Oct 2008, 02:20pm

Hi there Duck, son of Chips.

Of the three head teachers I came across at the Kennedy, Barony and Parson Street annexes, Chips Rafferty was by far the best. He was a fair and decent man in exercising his head teacher duties unlike the two poison dwarves at Barony and Parson Street. Farmer Kelly was like
a child out of time as was his henchman wee Joe Barry. They were so out of touch with the real world as they struggled to impose a pre WW2 mentality / morality on the 1960’s generation.
I had an uncle who had attended Parson Street in the 1950’s and even he remembers both wee Joe and Farmer as social outcasts with the rest of the teachers. They never joined the teachers in the staff room at playtime or lunchtime, preferring to stay in one of the science labs and brew their tea in a beaker. Maybe they classed themselves as “the Special Ones”, the Jose
Mourinhos of their day.
You should be proud of your dad as the concept of “fairness” meant a lot to a 14 or 15 year old and he exercised that well. I’m sure most who passed through Kennedy Street will have fond memories of him before moving on to the “Prison Break” regime of Parson and Barony Street where mass beltings were common place, meted out by the aforementioned terrible twins. I well
remember one winter morning I was 10 minutes late arriving at the entrance to Parson Street and was held along with about 20 others who had all been delayed by the snow. Wee Joe lined us all up and dispensed 4 of the best to each and every one of us before we were allowed to proceed to our class.
I remember the embarrassment as I was in 5th year then (old enough to join the army) and the whole belting episode was watched by two tradesmen who were in the playground repairing some brickwork and were shaking their heads in disbelief at the brutality on display. As a 17 year old being meted out this medieval punishment in front of strangers was embarrassing to say the least.
As mentioned in previous postings, the better teachers (your dad among them) prevailed over the sadists and made the whole Mungo experience something to look back on with fond memories.

Posted by: vince 8th Nov 2008, 07:51pm

Hi Duck,
If you sent your dad's old belt for analysis I think you'd find my DNA deeply embedded therein!
I was on the wrong end of that a few times; most memorably for being involved in a fight in the Kennedy Street school yard. Not so much the fight itself, which was just an everyday punch up concerning a 'coal carry' battle that had escalated,- but the untimely intervention of a teacher from the City Public. His well intentioned role as peacemaker (blessed are they) had been rebuffed by my opponent (Louis Anderson?) who delivered an imperative to have sex and travel. It was the profanity that had me and Louis marched before your dad who delivered the judgement of Solomon and gave us six each. It's rather pleasing that you still have it. A rather unusual but distinctive family heirloom.

Posted by: PaulGar 13th Nov 2008, 11:09pm

Had a great time looking at all the posts!
I went to the Mungo early 70's for only the 1st year, as our family moved away from Glasgow.
I was relieved to have made it in into the Mungo and my parents were pleased that I was not as dumb as I looked. I was further delighted to have gotten in to Class 1A2 meaning that I was in the 2nd top class and going to be a future leader in the community. After a day or so I realised with disappointment that 1A2 was actually in the academically challenged section!
Reading past contributions, the memories came flooding back, although I can't remember any teacher’s names, I will never forget the wee black hoodie wearing brother who scared the life out of even the craziest students! His MO was to patrol the classroom, battering kids with a ruler on their knuckles. He took a particular dislike to a red haired kid who sat 3 desks in front of me, giving him a good belt with the leading edge of his preferred weapon at every opportunity for having the cheek to bring freckles in to his dungeon. Copped a few swipes myself for (looking at him funny) Taking my bleeding hand back home, complaining to my mother about getting abused for nothing, I got a skud for annoying the good Brother.......... FFS LOL
I also remember staying in the class several times a week till midnight studying, the monotony only broken up by a cup or should I say slice of stewed tea about 10pm (ok, maybe it was till 7pm, tea break about 5pm)
My best memory was getting my mother to deliver my lunch daily in her Cadillac! I told her to bring it in the Roller, but she thought I might get picked on for being a bit flash.... lol it wasn't me BigArturo!
I also recall we were on a trip somewhere in a double decker bus, probably to play footie and having baggsied the front window seat above the driver (big mistake) we set off singing a few chosen hits from "the Jungle" with some very minor foot stamping. Well...... The driver possibly from an opposing religious viewpoint became agitated and complained to the well balanced P.E teacher who reacted swiftly, turning the bus around and racing back to Chook St. Following an investigation which would have made Columbo proud, culminating in a detailed a re-enactment of the seating position of the protagonists (at this point I was going to claim that I was being chauffeured in my mothers Cadillac behind the bus) Finally we were berated, chastised and became the proud owners of ever so slightly tingly hands.
I also remember an incident at lunch time (top of Duke St)when a bigger boy shoved a 6” blade into my throat demanding money from me and some pals……..we told him we were skint and he said “Aye Nae Borra” and calmly walked off. (Better class of mugger in them days)
Although my time there was short, it did leave a lasting impression. I learned that if you want to get on in life, you have to work hard; I learned to never ever trust anyone dressed in a single long garment. I learned that through adversity, you meet the very best pals and that corporal punishment is best left in the hands of balanced individuals and not teachers. I also discovered that Latin is not a dead language by chance.
In all, I had a great time there and regretted having to move away from Glasgow, It was great to find this discussion board and I look forward to visiting regularly.
smile.gif biggrin.gif

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 15th Nov 2008, 07:40pm

QUOTE
I also remember staying in the class several times a week till midnight studying, the monotony only broken up by a cup or should I say slice of stewed tea about 10pm (ok, maybe it was till 7pm, tea break about 5pm)


Homework classes or an opportunity for low paid teachers to earn some overtime money.

Posted by: Kenny Nicholas 12th Dec 2008, 04:33pm

The references to homework classes takes me back to an evening at The Kent circa '68 or '69. I used to attend homework classes at least 3 nights a week (God knows why - I spent most of my time doodling and distracting others) and on this particular evening we were being supervised by Mr Stewart who taught English and was, as I recall, a fairly decent sort of guy.

Anyway, he decided to leave the room to visit the toilet (I later deduced it must have been for a crap, given the time he was away) which gave us all the sufficiently flimsy excuse we needed to go stone mad. I spotted a violin, in its case, perched on top of a cupboard and thought it would be a great idea to get it down and belt out a few tunes for the guys, just to while away the boredom of our (srictly non-enforced) captivity. I should also point out at this juncture that in those days I was to violin playing what Yehudi Menuhin was to five-a-side football, a fact well known to the owner of the violin, a guy named Luke Garry, also present that evening, who was sort of horrified at the prospect of what was to come and rather feebly asked me not to do it but it was too late - the momentum of madness was underway and past the point of no return.

I took out the violin and proceeded to saw the bow frantically across the strings like the demented @rsepiece which I was, making an absolutely tuneless and dreadful racket in the process. Notwithstanding this, and in spite of Luke's pleas to stop, the rest of the class got right behind me, providing a sort of rythm section using the desk lids with which I could 'keep time' and the resultant cacophony continued for a few minutes until I was alerted by the warning call of "here's wee Stewart comin' back!" from a pupil near the door who could see along the corridor. This allowed me just enough time to get the violin quickly back in its case, replace it back on top of the cupboard and make it back to my desk in the nick of time before Mr Stewart re-entered the classroom.

It looked as if I'd got away with it, because Mr Stewart simply retuned to his desk and resumed reading his Glasgow Herald from where he'd left off. Only for a minute or two, though. Without even glancing up from the paper he said, in the most laid back and carefree tone, "who was playing the violin while I was out?" There was a brief period of silence during which I was coming to terms with the fact that I had been caught out (fair play to Luke Garry, he didn't make any attempt to grass me off) and also that if I didn't own up, the time honoured punishment might be meted out, ie belting the whole class, so I stood up and took the rap. The upshot was that I was called out in front of the class and ordered to take down the violin and remove it from its case (Luke went a wee bit white at this point). Mr Stewart then instructed me to "play". When I tried to explain that I couldn't actually play the violin he said "I find that very difficult to believe, given the rapturous reception you were being given by your colleagues on my way back to class. Go on - play!"

There was obviously nothing to lose at this point so I thought, what the hell - may as well go for it. I tucked the violin under my chin, looked at the class and announced "this is a little number called the Blue & Gold tea bag medley" (which was an actual TV ad at that time featuring country fiddle music). Off I went again with the madness as before and once again everyone began to back me up with the old desk lid slamming routine until Mr Stewart put a very abrupt halt to the performance. I was then told to put away the violin, go and get my C2 jotter and bring it to his desk, as he was about to give me lines.

When I arrived at his desk he asked me "Are you familiar with the works of William Shakespeare?" I was, of course, not exactly an expert but I nodded and replied "Yes, sir" all the same. "Have you studied the play Twelfth Night?", he then aked me. Again, I nodded. "Do you recall the opening of the play and the words spoken by Malvolio?" I had to think a bit about this one but came up wth "..is it 'If music be the food of love, then play on'?" "Well done", was the reply, "you HAVE been paying attention! Now, write this down....."

Mr Stewart : "If music be the food of love....."
Me : "If music be the food of love....."
Mr Stewart : "....then I am mateless!"
Me : ".....then I am........???"
Mr Stewart : "MATELESS! It's an old Irish word meaning lack of meat. Now give me that 50 times and drop it off at the staffroom tomorrow morning".

Probably just as bad as being belted in many ways but certainly preferable to being taken into the cupboard and 'punished' by Brother David, from what I've heard...........

Sadly, Mr Stewart was taken from us some time ago. I lost touch with Luke Garry until about 4 years ago when, via Alex Flynn (a Sandyhills boy and contemporary of our year) he made contact, along with some other guys including Jim Beers, Bill Edwards and Stevie Skiba. Luke is out in Saudi now (hates it) teaching English and Bill lives in England, having moved south years ago but occasionally we all try to get together for a few beers along with people like Kevin McKenna and big Gerry Doyle - usually in The Halt on Woodlands Road.

Posted by: huggybear 14th Dec 2008, 03:06pm

Happy memories guys, Brought a smile to my lips an' a tear to my eye.-[tears of laughter]. -I went to 'Duke st' for a year, and parson st. for two.
I remember the stink of the Molendiner at Duke st.-the prison was still there. -@1960 and the'stinkie ocean' wee Joe Barry [hankie over mouth as he dug the smokers out of toilet -including me] Farmer Kelly's 'Quink -ink' -Somebody mentioned 'Wee Paddie O'Neil' PT teacher. -Met him later in life -great guy, Battle of Britain fighter pilot, still skiing approaching 80 - unfortunately passed away couple of years ago. -My claims to fame include being asked to leave before being expelled for pulling communication cord on train during school trip to Troon, -and winning Fourth year 'dux in art' prize while still in 3rd year. -and getting 12 of the belt for fighting from a sadist called Mr Topping. Oh happy days! Bless them!

Posted by: GoLdEn@Ye 17th Dec 2008, 10:41am

Great posts and brought back loads of memories, most of those posted already predate my time at the 'Mungo' although 'Duck' was probably there or thereabouts as it reads like we were of the same era.

Brother Joseph, Brother Adrian, Brother Charles, Brother Peter (Ghandi) my form teacher Class 1A...and there was another 'Brother' that took a field trip (Duke of Edinburgh award Scheme) to the Leadhills, probably 1972 or 73, we travelled there in the dinner bus and got dumped in the middle of nowhere, the 'Brother' and Geography teacher (female) shot off to the pub and must have hit it off, within six months he was in civvies and although continued teaching for a little while he left the school soon afterwards.

Geography teacher Burke?, English teacher 'Frankie' Cairns, History teacher Hoey, French teacher Big Mama Ferguson & Italian Romano, PE Brickley & Ramsey?.

I started St Kentigern's in August 1972, although after Primary school last term I remember making a one day visit with my mum to Parson Street for an introduction to the school.

No one mentioned The Great Eastern at the edge of the school playground, or the smell from the whisky bonding warehouse closer to the High Street.

Loretto in Bishopbriggs and getting scudded with a size 5 mouldmaster on a winters morning, ouch!

Moving to Hanson Street closed after disgruntled pupil set it alight one evening just around Christmas 1975..

Cattle escaping from the meat market and running amok along Duke St across from the school on the grass at the high flats in Ladywell.

There was a dinner school facility somewhere through the same Ladywell high flats towards the Royal Infirmary close by The Oldest House, I seem to remember it was a basement type of place or maybe it was just dark and had a medieval appearnace with dinner ladies to match.




Posted by: GG 17th Dec 2008, 12:12pm

Please note that I've just approved three posts which had been in the moderation queue for a while, apologies to the guests who posted them and the readers who missed them up until now:

Guest Big Arturo1
http://discuss.glasgowguide.co.uk/index.php?s=&showtopic=8451&view=findpost&p=215743

Guest vince
http://discuss.glasgowguide.co.uk/index.php?s=&showtopic=8451&view=findpost&p=217334

Guest Kenny Nicholas
http://discuss.glasgowguide.co.uk/index.php?s=&showtopic=8451&view=findpost&p=221611

GG.

Posted by: Duck 18th Dec 2008, 06:16pm

Thanks to Big Arturo for those very kind words - have to admit to a wee tear on reading them! Not sure whether to thank Vince or apologize to you- we're connected in quite a strange way when you think about it!

Goldeneye - good memory for those teachers' names. I was at St kent's from 69 until the move up to Barony and parson Streets so I knew all those teachers well. I always remember Brother Joseph coming over the tannoy on a Friday afternoon to announce the school would be dismissed early in honour of some extremey obscure, but no doubt worthy, saint's feastday.

The brother who skipped off to Civvy Street I think would be Brother Robert- he and brother Alan were the field trip specialists ( anybody else a member of the Hillclimbing club that went off with the pair of them early on saturday mornings?) Yes, geography was Sylvester Burke who had a habit of addressing all boys by their surname preceeded by master. Of course, the day had to come when poor old Alastair Bates was singled out! There was also Wee Mo ( Kate ) Murray who taught Maths, Big Jimmy Shields for Latin and Balkeen ( Keen balls inevitably ) for, I think, Physics. Was it Brickley or his predecessor Donohue who gave you the Order of the Red Hand on your bare back if you transgressed for any reason?

The dinner hall you mentioned was indeed in the basement of the rather fine building on Cathedral square- on the right as you went down towards Ladywell Street and Drygate.

Remember the "wee wifie" who sold shots of irn bru etc from her front room halfway down Ladywell Street?


Posted by: JLS 18th Dec 2008, 09:28pm

Hi all
I was interested hearing the experiences about St.Mungos. I attended Kennedy St. annexe around 1946 at 10+ years of age. The only teacher from there I remember was Tommy Farr who taught me French.
I spent the rest of my school life in St. Kentigerns, and I remember brother Alexius, who I thought was a bit strange but as he ran one of the football teams you just kept your wits about you. Another teacher who looked after a school team was 'Buster' McGlynn who taught science. My maths teacher was Mr Molloy who challenged the class that he could give the square root of any number we shouted out. I have to say he was pretty good and actually got a lot of unlikely people interested in maths. Other teachers of my time were Bro. Conrad who taught English, and Bro. Walfrid who was the headmaster.
I can not say I enjoyed my time at St Mungos, the frequent use of the belt for the slightest reaason showed something lacking in many of the teachers.

Posted by: Guest Kentigern * 23rd Dec 2008, 11:06am

Duck minor correction, Burkes name was Cyril. He was my form teacher in 2c in 1972/3. He was also a personal friend of my old man, who was an art teacher up until I joined in 1971. (Buchanan, does anyone remember him he was also Jimmy Reids mate?)

One old fruitloop not seen mentioned was the science guy "Jackanory" McLelland, talk about spinning fantastic and ridiculous yarns. Martin Brickley with his skin tight trakkie bottoms what a memory ohmy.gif

Posted by: Duck 31st Dec 2008, 10:35am

Quite right Kentigern- I did know his name was Cyril. Why did I write Sylvester? Could that have been his nickname, I wonder? And of course, everybody remembers Mr Buchanan!!!
Happy New Year!!

Posted by: Mike Docherty 1st Jan 2009, 02:40am

No - I distinctly remember Burke's name being 'Sylvester' and he had probably the most un-forgeable signature I have ever seen with a distinctive flourish on the ' S ' initial with which he used to grace the appropriate boxes on the class Censor card. This proved to be an absolute curse to the poor bastard who drew the 'short straw' and was designated the official ' Censor ' guy for that particular week. In an effort to expedite the 'signing' process the 'censor', rather than run himself ragged seeking out the appropriate teachers and accounting for all the class members scattered around the school would often choose to embellish the card with a 'facsimile' of the teachers' names rather than seek out the real deal. These creative measures were mostly successful but not where Burke's autograph was concerned and he took great pride in the fact. He also seemed to take great pride in his WWII military service which he had served in Burma or Malaya and would often abandon the day's geography lesson to regale the class with his first-hand accounts of skewering many a ' Buck-toothed little Jap ' on the end of his bayonet like so many little kebabs - aaahhh, Happy Days... As to the forgery of teachers' signatures I would like to make it clear that I never personally indulged in such nefarious activity and have to rely upon the accounts of others. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. Wishing a very happy and prosperous New Year to all the Mungoloids out there.

Posted by: Duck 1st Jan 2009, 10:49am

You know I think you're right Mike. In fact, wasn't Cyril his nickname - Big Cyril? I wonder why Cyril when Sylvester was more than ripe already for a piss-take. Talking of censor cards made me remember the poor teacher who lost a fictitious pupil. Can't for the life of me remember who he was but a bit of an absent minded professor type. Instead of checking the register he would ask who was absent. Willie Ginelli we would shout. Of course, Willie was absent every period and was so for weeks on end till poor teacher decided Willie must be in a serious way and would make enquiries!! Happy New Year to ain and 'a!

Posted by: Kentigern 4th Jan 2009, 05:09pm

No his name was Cyril. I can even tell you where he lived and the pubs, he and your Uncle by marriage drank Duck tongue.gif Partick was the place.

Sylvester, viz Tweety Pie and eyebrows, which he played up to no end. His wartime duties were not as he regailed us with, but in Keyna managing the farming output for the war effort.

He was a very complex man but gentle at the core. He did his utmost to be a racist but he couldn't quite carry it off.

Anyhows, recall the night they burnt Hanson St Annexe down biggrin.gif

Posted by: murph 5th Jan 2009, 12:25am

I remember big Burkie as well. What a great guy and I really enjoyed his classes. Does anyone remember that he would hand out a blank atlas of the world and make you mark out a place name. Any one going to the schools 150th Anniversary Mass?

Posted by: stucky 8th Jan 2009, 11:09pm

i attended the mungo in the sixties played in the football teams started at te annex in RIGBY STREET,just came accross this forum smashing to read about all the old teachers,remember Brickley in the White Heather club,farmer Kelly eee boy great days now.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 10th Jan 2009, 11:32pm

Good to find Burkie's name was actually Cyril and the ' Sylvester ' thing was only a nickname - at least he didn't have to go through life with a ridiculous name ( although I will still swear on a stack of bibles that his initials on the dreaded Censor card were 'S' Burke ) ... Maybe he was the one having a private joke at our expense. My introduction to him was day one of my first year at the Kent ( Aug ' 67 ) and he was immediately christened ' Amos ' after the lead character in a popular TV series of the time - ' Burke's Law ' with Gene Barry in the title role of Amos Burke -- ( -- How many bells did THAT particular piece of useless information jingle ? ) What amazed me about Burke was that anytime another teacher went AWOL or was ill, he would step in as a replacement and appeared to be qualified to teach just about any subject imaginable. He encouraged us to broaden our horizons where literature was concerned and to keep a journal wherein we would write book reports. He would take them home with him on Friday and peruse them over the weekend, returning them to us the following Tuesday, graded as he saw fit. He would lay them out on the front desk of each row, one book inside the other, each opened to the pages of that week's particular report with his comments visible for all to see as the books were passed back up the rows to their various owners. On one particular day, as he laid the stack of books out, the top book, visible from probably 500 yards away due to the enormous red ' X ' painted across both pages of that week's report had the entire class staring at it in a silent stupor, not a single eye straying from those pages, tracking it's passage as it was handed from desk to desk in the most blatant display of amateur theatrics imaginable until it was dropped in front of me. By this time my face was probably as red as the 'X' staring back up at me from my book and I could feel every one of those 28 other pairs of eyes boring into my skull. Burkie never once looked at me or mentioned me by name, ( - as if he had to - Duuhhh...) - merely spoke of ' certain members of the class ' expanding their literary horizons a little too far a little too fast. Evidently the report I had written was fine, just that the subject matter in this particular case - E. M. Nathanson's ' The Dirty Dozen ' was not what he considered suitable reading for the average 12 year-old so after that I decided to play it safe and stick to less volatile fare such as H.G. Wells or Doyle or Stephenson and at least try to rock the boat as little as possible... You win some, you lose some.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 11th Jan 2009, 05:54pm

And here's me thinking you got yourX for going on a bit too long.

Posted by: Enigma 12th Jan 2009, 03:35am

Absolutely brilliant forum, loads of laughs, keep it up.

I was at the Mungo in Duke Street from '72 until '74 then moved away. I recall most of the teachers and brethern mentioned by 'GoLdEn@Ye' and most of the other forum members.

I kept a low profile when I first went to the Mungo so that I wouldn't have to get the new start punishment from the years above. This involved two of the older older guys, one at either side of you, a hand and a leg each, running you at speed, legs apart, into the iron pillars that held up the shelter. I know, it would have me cry too!!!

I remember having a major fall out with Mr Hoey after he used the tennis ball he kept down the arm of his tunic to batter me over the head for not doing my French homework, and then me telling him in no uncertain terms, where to go. I was grabbed by the collar and marched to, I am sure it was Brother Josephs office where I was severely critisized and told that my parents would be informed of my improper language and behaviour. Mr Hoey was always immaculately dressed, wearing a different suit and shoes everyday.

I remember too Mr Burke, and as somone said he had a signature that no one could forge!!! I made it my goal to accept the challenge and can still to this day forge his signature. I always thought he signed only his surname but having read some of the replies I now think he 'embedded' his first initial within the 'B' making it look embellished. It actually looks like and 'S' within or as part of the 'B', and it's done with no break between the letters.

I can recall a teacher who had the nickname 'Magoo', but can't recall what his 'real' name was. I remember being sent to the staff room to see if he was there, I got there, knocked on the door, and looked up at Mama Ferguson (I have the impression she was a tall woman), 'Is Mr Magoo in there?', I asked. Mama Ferguson, looked down at me, smiled and said 'no', and duly closed the door on me.

We also had a music teacher, can't remember his name, but he was very tall and thin, and more often than not he would end up crying during the lessons and heading off to the headmaster to report the unrully pupils.

Mr Ennis? I recall staying on for homework classes, with him overseeing us. He would eat his dinner on his desk, laying it all out carefully before he would delicately disect the various bits of food and eating them whilst looking up to see who was watching him. I remember him offering a 'reward' to anyone who would tell him where his torture belt was after it went missing. It was chucked in to the stream that ran along the back of the school never to be seen again (not by me).

Does anyone remember when we used to get sent home from school early if the electricty went 'off' or 'failed'? Sometimes that 'off' or 'failure' was ably assisted by myself! The main switch for the electricity was in the 'cloakroom' and if you stood on the window ledge you could reach the switch. I only got away with that a couple of times though, as I think the janitor got wise to it and it would inevitably be the first place he would check in the event of a 'failure'.

Fridays, ah yes! On a Friday we used to go to a chip shop that was, as I recall, on the road up the side of the flats. Sausage supper, a battered lorne (flat, square) sausage, chips, and a cup of tomato soup. The rest of the time we went to the 'dinner hall' which as some members have pointed out was up through the flats, and beside the Catherdral, down in a basement. It had those long tables benches in it, I remember this so well I could actually draw it from memory. Anyone who wants to remember what our school dinners tasted like all those years ago, try Marks and Spencer Beef Stew and Dumplings, believe it or not, they taste exactly the same as our dinners did!!!

I will be back when I can think of some more, it's been a pleasure.





Posted by: Enigma 12th Jan 2009, 06:12pm

Hi again,

I remembered today that one of the forum members recalled a teacher Bill??? I think it may be Bill Henderson? I only had one drama lesson from him but he left a lasting impression on me because of the different voices and accents he could take off. Bill was in a film called 'Just Another Saturday (1975)', also episode 7 of Taggart 'Cold Blood', there are others but I can't find them. I thought he was a full time actor and just 'dropped in' to offer drama lessons. I am sure I read of him a few years back that he had died, but this needs verification.

http://www.screenonline.org.uk/tv/id/442522/



Cheers for now.

Posted by: Kentigern 14th Jan 2009, 08:43pm

Enigma, Hoey was Gerald who also taught History and was one of the last to wear the scholars gown.

The poor bugger that taught Music was Willie Irvine, he just didn't have a clue and was humiliated daily. I believe he was dispatched to some place in Maryhill where he ended up being stabbed by one of the unwashed who didn't appreciate Brahms.

A missing "character" from the early 70's is Moore the classics teacher who earned the soubriquet Rupert after the Bear, who had his suits made from Axminster carpet.

Bill Henderson was in everything and particularly in the 70's the earliest versions of "Take the High Road" died in mid/late 80's

Posted by: Mike Docherty 16th Jan 2009, 03:55am

Ah, Dexter - once again I fall prey to your razor-sharp wit ! Re. Enigma's account of the ' Pole ' initiation - I don't recall that ever taking place during the two years I spent at Duke St. but we were forewarned of the likelihood of such an initiation when we went to the Barony for Third Year. At the end of Second Year a couple of the teachers gave us a 'Heads-up' on what to expect and to do ourselves a favor by keeping a low profile, something the Kennedy Street boys would probably not be aware of since our teachers seemed content to ".. let them find out the hard way..." This turned out to be sound advice since most of the 'Poling' victims were indeed mostly from the Kennedy Street contingent. I recall very few incidents of bullying at St. Kent's, only a couple of instances where a second year kid might try to throw his weight around where the new-starts were concerned. This usually resulted in the Second year guy being ratpacked by 3 or 4 First year kids, thus showing him the error of his ways and that was the end of that. Mister Magoo - I remember a Mr. Magoo in Fourth Year ( I think ) - His real name was Magee and we had him for a very short time as an Art Teacher. He was probably in his early-mid 30s, a rotund fella with a close-trimmed beard and a perpetual smile on his round, red face. Having introduced himself to the class he wrote his name on the board in huge letters, then was summoned to the staff room in response to a 'phone call. Upon his return 5 or 10 minutes later he resumed his place at the front of the class, unaware that during his brief absence 'someone' had changed the two 'E's to two 'O's and he was totally unaware of the huge ' Mr. Magoo ' looking down upon him from the blackboard. He always seemed puzzled when kids would physically recoil from him if he got too close or why they would stop about 5 or 6 feet away from his desk. I guess no-one ever brought it to his attention that he had the most foetid breath imaginable - He would crack one of his feeble jokes and start laughing and anyone in the first few rows were exposed to a slaughterhouse reek that belonged in the bowels of Hell. Ennis - Don't recall him - or Ferguson - I never had either one as a teacher and must have somehow avoided crossing their paths. The same, however cannot be said regarding the school dinner hall - I sampled their bill of fare for the first time on my very first day of First Year which was also the last time I ever sampled it, having come to the conclusion that the 'food' had to be some kind of leftover ' Anti-Personnel' WWII instrument of torture since outlawed by the Geneva Convention and consequently discovered the gastronomic delights of ' Papa's ' on High Street. No great surprise that men of our generation raised in Scotland tend to have cast-iron stomachs as we were raised on food that my Colonial brethren insist would ' Gag a Maggot ' or ' Make a Billygoat puke' ! Ah, they just don't know what they've missed...

Posted by: Mike Docherty 16th Jan 2009, 10:12pm

Re. Kenny Nicholas' posting of Dec 12th - I recall the names Luke Garry and Gerry Doyle but I'm damned if I can put a face to either one. Bill Edwards - If it's the same guy - ' Billy ' Edwards whose ma was my teacher at my old Primary School - St. Peter's Boys' School in Partick - Then a ' Thumbs-up ' and ' Good Health' to him. He was one of the few guys I ever met who was the offspring of a schoolteacher ( - in his case I believe both parents were teachers, if it is indeed the same guy - ) who was a really decent fella. His younger brother though, as I recall was a spoiled, whining little bitch but I guess one outta two ain't bad. Anyone in touch with Frank Higgins or Jim McCarthy, Tommy Lydon or Big Jim McGregor ? We were all in the same Third Year class at The Barony circa 1969 - '70... Ring any bells out there ?

Posted by: Kentigern 18th Jan 2009, 12:13am

Magoo, is also the same poor sod I alluded to in the RUPERT reference.

I was there 71-77, played for the first XV 75-77, when at one stage we had a brilliant team and on my greatest day beat the FP's, Con McGinnley et al.

I also went to St Petes in Partick, both annexes and was an altar boy at St Simons

Posted by: Mike Docherty 18th Jan 2009, 03:34am

Re. Kentigern and Post # 96 Small world, man - Although I went St. Peter's Primary I lived a couple of blocks east of the Kelvin Hall making St. Simon's my local Church where I used to get dragged to on perfectly good Sunday mornings by my scowling mother. Small world indeed.

Posted by: Duck 18th Jan 2009, 08:02pm

I am now more than intrigued. What, oh what, did the offspring of teachers ever do to Mike Docherty? Post 95 makes reference yet again to us as if we are a breed to be loathed. Did something dastardly happen? Was he thwarted by one of us? There's at least two of us posting on this forum- come out all ye others. Are we to creep into the woodwork and not show our faces? Come on, Mike, what have we done wrong??

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 18th Jan 2009, 11:38pm

QUOTE (Duck @ 18th Jan 2009, 09:01pm) *
I am now more than intrigued. What, oh what, did the offspring of teachers ever do to Mike Docherty? Post 95 makes reference yet again to us as if we are a breed to be loathed. Did something dastardly happen? Was he thwarted by one of us? There's at least two of us posting on this forum- come out all ye others. Are we to creep into the woodwork and not show our faces? Come on, Mike, what have we done wrong??


Obviously he caught a dose of verbosity off one of you.

Posted by: JANE DUNCANSON 19th Jan 2009, 02:49am

QUOTE (Kentigern @ 18th Jan 2009, 12:12am) *
Magoo, is also the same poor sod I alluded to in the RUPERT reference.

I was there 71-77, played for the first XV 75-77, when at one stage we had a brilliant team and on my greatest day beat the FP's, Con McGinnley et al.

I also went to St Petes in Partick, both annexes and was an altar boy at St Simons


Posted by: Duck 19th Jan 2009, 07:02am

QUOTE (Dexter St. Clair @ 19th Jan 2009, 12:37am) *
Obviously he caught a dose of verbosity off one of you.


Was tongue in cheek, Dex

Posted by: Michael Docherty 20th Jan 2009, 01:53am

QUOTE (Duck @ 18th Jan 2009, 08:01pm) *
I am now more than intrigued. What, oh what, did the offspring of teachers ever do to Mike Docherty? Post 95 makes reference yet again to us as if we are a breed to be loathed. Did something dastardly happen? Was he thwarted by one of us? There's at least two of us posting on this forum- come out all ye others. Are we to creep into the woodwork and not show our faces? Come on, Mike, what have we done wrong??

Settle down, Duck - Nothing malicious or slanderous involved here, merely honest accounts based on personal experiences, what can I say? If they were ' luck-of-the-draw' experiences then I' m guilty of having a brief run of bad luck. Good to see people are now paying enough attention to this site to get a little riled up about some of the comments. I was also wondering if we should contribute a few bucks apiece, see if we could buy Dex a new sense of humor since it looks as if he had the old one surgically removed -- Such Verbosity! Take care, guys.

Posted by: SMALDS 20th Jan 2009, 02:11am

Hi guys - this is a hugely entertaining board: I was there from 1964 to 1970 (St. Kents for 3 years then Parson St. for another 3) and I have many tales to relate. From the day 1 waiting for the bell to ring in the yard and hearing about the "Onion" not knowing I would meet him very shortly. Period 4 on Mondays was Geometry and was the most feared time of the week : anyone remember geometry instrument inspections ? Compass, set square, protractor, 6 " inch ruler, HB pencil, 5 or 6 H pencil : one stroke of the belt for each missing piece of equipment. This was then followed by Geometry theorems round the class : one stroke for each wrong or missing word including "the". Eddie was fiercesome beyond belief : do you remember some of his byelines " Up on your hind legs, moonbeam". I had McAloon in second year and he was lightweight by comparison to Eddie Onion. However, Eddie did work miracles on my Maths as I scored 93% in first year all through fear .... my best ever performance. I also had Lekkie in third year and Alky Farrell in fourth year. When I went to GU I studied Maths in first year and my first exam was held on a chilly Saturday morning in late November. The exam was murderous and as I stood outside the gates in University Avenue comparing notes on what had transpired, up the road marched Eddie in his black beret. Astonishment was beyond belief - I still feel the shivers when I think of Monday mornings in 1964.

The tales of the Mollie, the Great Eastern Hotel, the Bonded Warehouse and railway shunting yard - our pleasant surroundings only surpassed by Duke St jail opposite. The clouds of dust and dirt funnelled by the wind down Duke St. until your eyes were stinging and the buses running past the bus stop empty. I am running out of space so I will post again with Tales of the Scala Sancta - the staircase in Barony Street that ran above Farmer's office and was off-limits to all as it "disturbed" Farmer's slumbers.

Good to connect with you guys and hear the old stories we all lived through....

These days I live in California near San Francisco but I have many memories of the old country and they are by and large good ones. Talk to you soon !

Posted by: Kentigern 20th Jan 2009, 07:29pm

Jane you were about to say mellow.gif ?

Posted by: Duck 21st Jan 2009, 05:36pm

I'm settled Mike - just kidding really! I do agree and I reckon we should somehow get Dex to spill the beans on his own reminiscences at the Mungo; I take it he was actually there?

Posted by: Mike Docherty 21st Jan 2009, 09:34pm

Re. 'Duck' and Post # 105 - Agreed - Our Man Dex appears to be the local Oracle on Glasgow Facts & Figures and knowledgeable about the The Mungo Faculty of the ' 60s and '70s but I haven't noticed any ' Personal Experience ' info being given away - Playing it close to the vest, eh Dex... We' ll get him to 'fess up to his true identity one way or another. And -- Re. SMALDS Post # 103 - I may be preaching to the converted here but next time you're in 'Frisco there's a place you should check out ( - if you're of the vegetarian persuasion then ignore this - ) On the corner of Van Ness & Geary there's a place called ' Tommy's Joynt ' - you step through the door and it's like a timewarp back to the 1880s and they make the best Melt-in-yer-Mouth Buffalo stew you will ever taste. Well worth the trip. Best wishes to all the Mungoloids out there.

Posted by: Heather 21st Jan 2009, 11:32pm

I think Dexter actually went to Kenny Hill. You know the school that was in Alexander Parade. laugh.gif laugh.gif

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 23rd Jan 2009, 07:53pm

And what would be wrong about attending Kennyhill School? I'm sure pupils there work as hard as they can at their lessons. My pal was there in the days when some would pour scorn on its pupils. He left school and got and held down a full time job. His employers knew what school he had been to but were more interested in what he could do rather than what uninfomed people thought he could not do.

Posted by: franco 29th Jan 2009, 05:03pm

i left the mungo in 1968 any u lads there at that time?

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 1st Feb 2009, 11:16pm

QUOTE (franco @ 29th Jan 2009, 05:50pm) *
i left the mungo in 1968 any u lads there at that time?

How long were you there and were you absent the days they did interpretation?

QUOTE
Hi guys - this is a hugely entertaining board: I was there from 1964 to 1970 (St. Kents for 3 years then Parson St. for another 3) and I have many tales to relate.

QUOTE
The references to homework classes takes me back to an evening at The Kent circa '68 or '69.

QUOTE
My introduction to him was day one of my first year at the Kent ( Aug ' 67 ) and he was immediately christened ' Amos ' after the lead character in a popular TV series of the time - ' Burke's Law ' with Gene Barry in the title role of Amos Burke --

Posted by: Guest BigArturo * 3rd Feb 2009, 01:01pm

I was reading about the Martyr’s School (Barony Street Annex as we knew it) on the web and had a chuckle at the following wording :

"Martyrs' School is a compact and relatively small building, designed to hold, in safety and comfort, a considerable number of pupils involved in many different activities. It is a light and airy structure, where the architect's imagination has fostered a sense of order."

From memory (admittedly fading through years of alcohol abuse), Barony Street Annexe housed the 3rd years before they crossed the road to complete 4th and 5th years in Parson Street. Old Charles Rennie Mackintosh could not have foreseen the 1960’s and their spirit of liberation as his design housed a gaggle of teenage reprobates who fostered a sense of chaos, rather than order. Farmer Kelly did his best but his sense of discipline was decidedly pre-war (Boer ?) and he did not have the respect of the other teachers, far less the pupils.
The photograph of the “Martyr’s Interior” – the stairwell that looked down on to the ground floor gym – still looks like a scene from a Victorian prison with the tiled walls. According to the website, “there was no cost-cutting in the tiling and the organic details of the staircases should not be overlooked”. Little did we know then that we were being educated in such a prestigious building, our sole purpose, apart from passing exams, being keeping one step ahead of Farmer who prowled the corridors looking to dispense 4 of the best for any trivial matter. As for the organic staircase, the only purpose of this was to facilitate the pandemonium associated with the great escape when the 4 o’clock bell rang. I’m not one for nostalgia but am seriously considering a visit to the old school, although I am worried that I experience the bad memory equivalent of an acid flashback when I see some of the classrooms where we spent a large part of our teens. Not sure if my old brain could survive the experience of waking up at 3am after seeing a vision of a buck-toothed headmaster asking "Where's you tie, fellow ? - you need a haircut"



Posted by: Mike Docherty 18th Feb 2009, 10:52pm

' Farmer ' Kelly was one of the ugliest people I ever encountered in my entire life. His face bore a perpetual grimace as he peered at you through teary-eyed slits giving the impression that he had spent years staring at the sun or some similar intensely dazzling object while his lips were drawn back in a feral snarl... Arturo mentioned the buck-toothed smile but there was more to it than that. When I was a kid at St. Peter's Boys' Primary in Partick we were shuttled off in busloads one wet morning to Edinburgh Zoo where we wandered around gawking at the wildlife and at one point I found myself startled by a sudden roar from a few feet to my left and spun around to find myself confronted by the gaping maw of a hippopotamus - This was the first impression I got when I encountered Farmer on my first day of Third Year at The Barony - a living gargoyle with a mouthful of ' teeth ' that resembled old, crooked tombstones, no two of them pointing in the same direction... As Arturo said, he referred to everyone as ' ...fellow...' although it came out sounding a lot more like ' Feel-ow ' which in itself was a little unsettling and served only to add to the overall creepiness of the man. Farmer's brand of ' Ugly ' was totally different than that of Latin teacher Shields at St. Kent's - The fact that he looked like a long-dead stiff re-animated through some dark, arcane ritual to once again walk the earth may have had something to do with it - ' Ugly ' on a Yoko Ono level that causes your heart to suddenly lurch and turns your bowels to ice first time you see it - I crossed paths with Ms Ono on the street once in New York and it was not a pretty sight - having witnessed both her and Shieldsy up close I doubt if I will ever experience hiccups again. ' Farmer ' Kelly was a bit of a caricature though - with his jaggy, barbedwire tweed jacket complete with leather elbow-patches and his ecky-thump flat cap I could easily picture him in his plus-fours roaming the wilds of his country estate, puffing away on a Briar pipe with a trusty 12-gauge Remington tucked under his arm, accompanied by his faithful Irish setter on the hunt for poachers or worthless longhaired hippies... He had us all lined up like soldiers in the yard on that first day of Third Year and made it plain from the get-go that long hair was something not to be tolerated while he was boss. He went along each line and with his ruler he flicked the ends of our hair, declaring some of us to be ' acceptable ' and others to be ' unacceptable ' and in need of some tonsorial alteration. He seemed to linger a little longer with the ' unacceptable ' ones, snarling his snarl of displeasure which, on this occasion was directed at myself and Big Wullie Agnew, our very own ' King of the Comb-over ' plus a couple of the ex-Kennedy Street guys. He had a taste for using his belt and was known to brandish the thing for the slightest transgression - being late was a mortal sin to him. He would have the school gates closed five minutes after the bell, leaving latecomers to enter through the front doors, then finding themselves confronted with the nigh-impossible task of sneaking past his office door undetected... My hands still smart at the memory of that belt of his... He was also a stickler for the uniform and did not care for trousers that were not grey although the huge popularity of Levi's Sta-Prest dress pants caused him to back off a little albeit with great reluctance. He threatened to publicly belt the Bejazes out of anyone who had the nerve to wear jeans before expelling them and I recall him grabbing a boy and yanking him out of the crowd, bringing his wrath down upon this kid for wearing cords. He must have had some kind of built-in 'Trouser-Radar' because there were about a hundred of us in the Barony stairwell which was always as black as The Pit, us heading both up and downstairs while he was heading up when he snatched this kid out of the crowd and held him at arm's-length while he stared in disbelief at the black cords the kid had dared to wear. He told the kid " Get Out !" and despite the kid's protests Farmer marched him by the scruff of the neck all the way out to the street and stood there for ages at the T-Junction of Parson St. and The Barony to make sure the kid didn' t try to sneak back in. Normally, getting tossed out of school for the day would be a Godsend but not in this case - The kid was a 4th Year from Parson St. who, for some reason had visited The Barony and was rushing back to sit some of his 'O' Level exams at Parson St. when he got nabbed by the ever-hovering Farmer and booted out, potentially screwing up the kid's O-Levelling activities for a whole year. There were rumors of severe bollockings directed both at Farmer and the upstart. corduroy trouser-wearing troublemaker mixed in with protests and threats from the kid's parents but the results were kept fairly hush-hush. Unswayed by such upheaval and unrest, Farmer continued to lord it over his domain leaving us mere teenaged mortals to keep as low a profile as possible and just avoid the man. Easier said than done...

Posted by: *SMALDS* 28th Feb 2009, 10:42pm

Great post and a very accurate description of Farmer : he ruled Barony St. like a medieval despot.

One day a very young, wide-eyed, first year pupil with a message from another Annex arrived at the Barony gate during break when Farmer prowled the playground looking for fresh meat. The kid asked some inmates at the gate where he could find Mr Kelly : the reply was " you mean Farmer - he's over there somewhere" and the kid wandered off in that direction where he found Farmer on patrol. Taking the envelope with the message, he addressed Farmer as "Mr Farmer....." : oh what a heinous crime, Farmer immediately had his trusted regulation Lochgelly out and hammered the poor innocent six times. To this very day, I am sure that the unsuspecting kid never knew what transgression he had committed.

I once had the misfortune to have to deliver a message in 5th or 6th year to the 'Great Man' in his office. I knocked and after being duly authorised to enter, addressed him as " Mr Kelly, I have a message for you" : he stopped, assessed me for ages, staring with those wet eyes and slowly, chillingly uttered the immortal words "Sirrrrrr sufficessssssssssssss" That was Farmer !

His beloved office was on the first floor on the RHS (the entrance nearest Parson St.) : the staircase from the first floor to the second floor ran close to his office so he banned all movement up that stairwell. He decreed that all traffic had to use the other stairwell. This created the legend of the 'Scala Sancta' (Sacred Staircase). Farmer policed any transgression and use of the Scala Sancta with ruthless enthusiasm and zealous discipline. Any offender was invited into Farmer's office for the Lochgelly experience. Wars raged over the use of the Scala Sancta with hilarious tales of one person chasing after another : there were shouts to Farmer " Don't worry Sir, I'll catch him ". All were ruses to earn a stripe for illegal use of the Scala.

Farmer banned the use of the room above his office : traditionally, it had been "The Prefect's Room" (Remember 'The Trusties" who used to man the Gates). Any way this prompted an escalation in the war. Someone secretly dropped a very small amount of valeric acid outside Farmer's door. This was walked into the carpet on the shoes of those summoned for routine punishment for the usual breaches of Farmer's doctrine. Well, as many of us know, Farmer had a thick carpet and always worked with a large, roaring fire in his office : I suppose like all reptiles he was cold-blooded. Valeric acid is highly volatile and very quickly these vapours enveloped his office with a smell like super-concentrated sxxt (guys, unsure if this site is moderated). The valeric acid was obtained from the Chemistry Department of GU by an ambitious budding chemist in sixth year who aspired to define the chemical differences between Stork margarine and Butter. Legend has it that on the No. 10 bus back from Uni this chemist's comrades-in-arms who had accompanied him to Uni left him downstairs on the bus with his box of new 'reagents'. The smell from the closed bottle was so bad that the bus conductor refused to take his fare and the other passengers downstairs either went upstairs or got off the bus.

This noxious substance was wonderfully effective : Farmer fled and abandoned his office which for over a week had the window open fully and the fire extinquished. Several cleaning details were performed on the carpet and walls by the Janitor wearing breathing apparatus before Farmer could return. He attributed the smell to a 'stink bomb' attack. An Inquisition was carried out on an unprecedented scale that would have relegated the Spanish Inquisition to a minor league. Alas, the heroes (aka as the culprits) were never identified despite the endless interrogations and suspicions. At one point , Farmer wanted to banish the Physics labs from his dominion. I don't know who used the valeric acid in this commando raid but they deserve the Barony Cross for distinquished service to all those who suffered at the hands of Farmer.

Anyone who relives the horrors of Farmer should think about the day Farmer evacuated his office and fled up the Scala Sancta. What a hoot !!!

Posted by: Mike Docherty 2nd Mar 2009, 10:18pm

Re. SMALDS posting about the Valeric acid prank - Beautiful - Years ahead of it's time back when such a joke would've been considered outrageous - we seemed to fly under the radar to a certain extent and despite the fact that we had made it into a Senior Secondary School the Older Generation expecting our level of ' prank ' creativity to go no further than a thumbtack on a chair or a stinkbomb attack or, God forbid - the dreaded Whoopee Cushion !! God Bless Tam Sheperd's Joke Shop for that particular gem... In Primary School myself and a couple of fellow Confederates pulled the Whoopee Cushion stunt on our teacher who was, shall we say ' Fragile ' where her nerves were concerned, literally tottering on the brink of mental collapse. Normally this would have elicited some level of sympathy ( even from a bunch of little 10-year-old s@#ts like ourselves ) except for the fact that the woman was a cruel, belligerent harpy who was way too fond of swinging that belt of hers as well as dishing out the occasional slap to the face when she felt it was appropriate. Fortunately for us there was also something wrong with her rear end which forced her to employ the services of one of those Donut-shaped ' rhoid cushions and it was large enough to conceal the Whoopee Cushion we slipped underneath it when she made the deadly mistake of leaving the classroom one afternoon. When she came back she launched into her usual verbal attack on us, pacing back and forth in front of us, gesticulating wildly and when the tirade escalated to it's usual crescendo she threw herself down onto her chair only this time her rant was punctuated by the explosive fart noise ( courtesy of said Cushion ) that reverberated all around the room followed by the howls of laughter from 30-or-so 10-year-olds. I believe those howls and guffaws probably provided that final little ' nudge ' that put her over the edge because she flew off the chair like she'd just been fired out of a cannon and grabbed up a pointer from beside the blackboard and proceeded to swing the thing like a broadsword as she charged towards us - A latter - day Boadicea ready to dish out some serious overdue punishment to this roomful of upstart Romans... The pointer she was deftly swinging was about the size of a pool cue and since no-one cared to be on the receiving end of such a weapon we wound up diving under desks and basically trampling each other to stay out of her reach. All through her rampage she let loose an endless string of slobbering curses that turned the very air blue and I think hearing these endless expletives coming from our own teacher was more shocking than her efforts to maim and decapitate as many people as possible before the bell rang. The racket could be heard all over the street never mind all over the school and when one of the male teachers ran into the room to investigate the source of the ruckus he did a rapid About-turn and fled, seeking reinforcements. He returned, supported by the school's only other male teacher with the janitor in reserve and in a feeble effort to soothe our teacher's ire they only enraged her more and she turned on both of them, managing to get in a few good licks before one of them pinned her in what appeared to be a half-assed rugby tackle, finally wrestling the now-broken pointer from her grasp. She still put up one helluva struggle and in the end it took both teachers and the janitor to carry her out of the room like a Persian Rug, legs and arms flailing... She returned after a month or so, having spent some quality time in her own suite at the local Rubber Hotel but she was so loaded to the eyeballs on medication she perpetually wore that ' Thousand-Yard Stare ' usually seen on the faces of shell-shocked soldiers after too much time on the front lines... Anyway, having grown up with such boorish, entry-level pranks it was a breath of fresh air to read about the valeric acid joke. In my 5th Year at Parson St. I was unfortunate enough to miss out on some serious prank-action - I had taken a rather nasty tumble on a motorbike in an unsuccessful attempt to negotiate an un-cooperative bend on Crow Rd which resulted in serious gravel-rash ( which I still carry in my elbow and knee to this day ) - the up-side being that I was off school for a couple of weeks, hobbling around like a geriatric but upon my return to school I was stunned to hear about the antics which had taken place during my absence. Evidently someone had gone into one of the classrooms at lunchtime and stacked a bunch of chairs on top of the teacher's desk along with dozens of textbooks, filled the trashcan with sheets of paper, shoved it under the desk and set the whole thing alight... Another tale was of a First Friday Mass when some creative souls managed to lock the church doors with the whole school inside then set off the fire alarm causing, I would imagine a great deal of panic. My all-time favorite though, as I mentioned in an earlier posting was the incident where someone wrote ' The Thoughts of Chairman Mao ' on a book held in the marble fist of some saint's statue in his niche in the church on Parson St... That was in early '72 - It wouldn't surprise me if they're still searching for the heretic almost 40 years later.

Posted by: Big Arturo1 4th Mar 2009, 05:07pm

Great posting, SMALDS – hilarious.
Re Mike’s story about the fire, we had a guy in 3rd year (who shall remain nameless in this litigious age) who had a drastic set of prelim exam results and who sussed the marked up exam papers were held in the teachers desk of our form class. One night between the 4pm bell and the start of homework classes, he got into the class and set the desk alight, destroying all our exam papers including his “failed” prelim papers. The usual interrogation followed which would have put Abu Graib or Guantanamo to shame in which every class member was given a personal “interview” – “you did it, didn’t you ?” to suss who had the most to gain by destroying the exam papers. From memory the culprit was never identified (though we all knew) and everyone who attended homework classes that night was given 4 of the best, the assumption being the offender was among us somewhere and we would all pay for shielding him. Don’t know if the plan to destroy his disastrous exam papers ever benefited him or if he passed his “O” levels.

Posted by: BigArturo1 9th Mar 2009, 03:56pm

Wonder if J.K.Rowling had read this thread before naming the hospital in the Harry Potter books :

St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries is a fictional hospital within the universe of Harry Potter. Medics at the hospital are not called doctors, but are known as Healers and wear lime-green robes.Founded by famous wizard Healer Mungo Bonham, St Mungo's is located in London. It was established to treat magical injuries or illnesses endemic to the Wizarding World. To enter the premises, one has to step through the window of what appears to be a derelict department store called Purge & Dowse Ltd. The exteriors of the hospital are red-bricked and dirty, which is the complete opposite of the interiors. Inside, everything is very neat and looks exactly as a hospital should. There are six floors. The emblem of St Mungo's is a magic wand crossed with a bone.”

An opportunity to rearrange the above text to incorporate our very own “wizards” and “healers” who dished out, rather than treated “magical injuries”. I’m sure there are some of you former pupils out there of a literary disposition gleaned from many an English class in Barony and Parson Street who could re-write the above paragraph from your own school memories. God, I’m sounding like an English teacher demanding you hand in your essay by Friday – acid flashback time !

Posted by: Duck 12th Mar 2009, 09:54am

There have been many posts reminiscing about teachers at the school. How mant names can be put to faces here? Staff photograph from 1957-58 though I can spot many who were still about well into the 70's


 

Posted by: Kentigern 21st Mar 2009, 03:05pm

Bit of inside track their Duck, talking of which how's my tractor doing?

Posted by: Mike Docherty 21st Mar 2009, 10:01pm

Re. Duck's posting # 117 with the photograph of the usual suspects - a more dubious - looking bunch of reprobates I have never beheld except for the ones I saw in films of the Nuremberg Trials of 1946 - the lighting in the photograph even makes the group look like they are sporting little abbreviated Adolf Hitler mustaches. I think I recognized a few faces among the crowd, the obvious one being the Head Inquisitor himself, Bro Kenneth front and center. I may have spotted ' Sylvester ' Burke and my old French teacher and First-year form teacher Tommy Farr but the picture was taken 10 years before I started in St. Kent's so I wouldn' t swear to it. In an earlier posting - # 81 from JLS - he said Tommy Farr was his French Teacher when he entered The Mungo in 1946 - Christ, how old was that man or did he have a portrait in the attic to do his aging for him?!

Posted by: tenko 22nd Mar 2009, 02:51am

Some long buried memories resurfaced with the Duke St "poling" reminiscences.Post#78. I also recall enjoying Burkies geography classes and remember his way particular way of saying " the pampas ". and reading out the question to the forthcoming exams,with prefered answers. I think one guy still managed to fail the test. As for Tam Farr, I believe his longevity was due to this low metabolic rate. He rarely smiled or spoke above a low monotone and had perfected a superbly enegy efficient method of belting any boy. A slow raising of the strap followed by a sharp snap forward from the waistline. The strap would shoot downward with no other part of the body moving. I also remember being in a class ( possibly RE as I recall being played tapes of Gregorian Chants ) were the teacher was deaf in one ear. This would lead to the pastime of guys, sitting on his deaf side, shouting out all sorts and see if he could identify the culprit.Ring any bells?

Posted by: Kenny Nicholas 22nd Mar 2009, 07:12pm

Re Tenko's recollection of the teacher who was deaf in one ear, this was almost certainly big Sam McManus, who really struggled quite badly in the old hearing department. The powers that be must have been aware of his infirmity, as they eventually installed him in a long narrow classroom in Parson St which had the blackboard on one of the longer walls, so that even the pupils at the back of the class were never that far away from the teacher. (This woul have been around 1970/71)

Sadly, this didn't work, as Sam became so progressively mutt 'n' jeff that someone took to bringing a radio into his French class and playing the Radio1 Road Show during lessons. This was acclaimed (by the pupils) a roaring success and eventually was followed by a second, then eventually a third radio competing on different channels - the trick was to see how loud they could be turned up before the big man detected anything. This all took place on one of the first floor classrooms outside which was the balustraded walkway overlooking the courtyard. It came to its inevitable end one sunny day when Sam agreed we could open the windows for some air. Another teacher passed by outside and did a double-take as he passed the classroom window and heard Emperor Rosko competing with some hoochter-teuchter material from Radio Scotland (or its then equivalent) at quite serious decibel levels. Thereafter, the balloon went up.

I still have no idea how I achieved Higher French given the distractions. I guess big Sam must have been a pretty good teacher, all things considered. I believe that, sadly, he's another one who is no longer with us.
RIP.

Re big Burkie, I recall he used to go round the class asking what sort of crops were grown in the various geographic latitudes, starting with the tropics and moving north through the sub-tropics, etc. It got much harder the further north you went, of course, until eventually we arrived at the Tundra, at which point no-one could come up with an answer. Burkie however, seemed to be about to provide us with a revelation when he announced,

"Remember this for the exam. There are only two things you can grow in the Tundra - OLD and COLD. That's all, OLD and COLD".

I've never forgotten. What a man!

Posted by: Joe Kerr 24th Mar 2009, 08:27pm

Mr Nicholas should get his facts right before disseminating them to the wider public. I can assure him that Mr McManus is alive and well. Perhaps had he known he would have been less inclined to malign a former teacher who was losing his hearing and his career at such an early age. I think his blog tells us more about Mr Nicholas and his classmates than it does about Mr McManus. At least he was gracious enough to admit that his former teacher may have helped him to gain a pass at Higher level in French.

Posted by: Kentigern 28th Mar 2009, 07:12pm

Viz Tenko passim. Old Cyril has many tales told of him herein. He was one of my old mans drinking chums and a hoot( see eyebrows).

I was in 2c in 72/73 and as well as Form Master he did the homework class register. ( Don't think Cyril ever did actual homework classes himself as the pubs were open by then)

Anyhows, THE PAMPAS, populatated by guachos swinging BOLAS .

He was an absolute joy but mad as a box of frogs

Posted by: Michael Docherty 3rd Apr 2009, 06:47pm

Re. ' Joe Kerr ' - ( Joker ? ) - and Posting # 122 -- Judging by the overall structure of Joe Kerr' s rant, I can't help but think we have Dexter St. Claire posting ( whining ) under an alias or ' nom de pencil ' as Burkie used to put it or is it just my overly-suspicious imagination ? I'll try to keep the verbosity to a minimum, Dex.

Posted by: Kentigern 7th Apr 2009, 06:09pm

QUOTE (Michael Docherty @ 3rd Apr 2009, 07:16pm) *
Re. ' Joe Kerr ' - ( Joker ? ) - and Posting # 122 -- Judging by the overall structure of Joe Kerr' s rant, I can't help but think we have Dexter St. Claire posting ( whining ) under an alias or ' nom de pencil ' as Burkie used to put it or is it just my overly-suspicious imagination ? I'll try to keep the verbosity to a minimum, Dex.

Nom de pencil biggrin.gif , brilliant!!!!

Posted by: BigArturo1 14th Apr 2009, 07:22am

Was having a few beers with my pals the other day, some of whom were SMA former pupils and I was recounting some of the Farmer stories in the Guide website.
As usual, this jogged some memories and prompted some other reminiscences. One of my pals, Tommy Grehan, remembers a particular winter day in 3rd year at Barony Street when the weather was atrocious and affected the transport, resulting in more than usual the number of latecomers. No quarter was given by the school of course – all latecomers must be punished irrespective of whether your bus was cancelled or not.
Farmer corralled about 30 latecomers into the Barony Street playground and made them form a single file. They were all informed that they would each receive 3 of the belt as he worked his way along the line and they were instructed to “keep the count”. This meant the first miscreant had to shout out “one, two, three” as they were belted and next in line “four, five, six” and so on all the way along the line. As if this ritual was not sadistic enough, Farmer also announced that if anyone lost the count, he would return to the beginning of the line and start the belting all over again. This of course meant that the poor buggers who were at the beginning of the line would be belted more than once. Tommy was a quick thinker and quickly positioned himself at second from the rear – rear position being held by the biggest guy in the line. He was well justified as the “count” was lost on three occasions and the pupils at the front got 12 of the belt rather than 3. All for your bus being late.
Another older story concerning Farmer, from the late 50’s I believe, was of a trip to Biarritz. No Easyjet or Ryanair in those days of course as the party travelled to France by train and ferry. Farmer apparently enjoyed a game of golf – belting and golf, a similar type of torture, I suppose – and took his set of clubs with him. They were his prize possession and one of the pupils was made to sit with them in the goods van on the train and guard them the whole way.
When changing trains in Paris, the party was running late for their connection and while hurrying along the platform, the poor “caddy” slipped and spilt Farmers trusty clubs all over the platform. Farmer was livid and ordered the boy to pick them up and re-fill his golf bag then proceeded to take out his strap from under his jacket and dished out four of the best to the guy, right there on the platform in the Gare du Nord in full gaze of the French passengers. Talk about humiliation. It just goes to show Farmers mindset, taking his trusty belt on holiday with him. I wonder if he slept with it under his pillow.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 22nd May 2009, 09:05pm

Looking back over these postings I still find it amazing in a pathetic sort of way - the Dickensian mentality of so many of those belt-wielding teachers and that last story about Farmer Kelly and the Golf-bag fiasco seemed to put it all in a nutshell - By the mid-60s they were getting a glimpse of a future that they did not like and perhaps the first glimmerings of themselves and their peers going the way of the dinosaur and slipping into an inevitable extinction which would explain the tangible disdain many of them bore towards the new, younger teachers, although I'm sure the younger guys were content in the knowledge that the business of education was changing and that the Farmer Kellys of the world, should they have to do it all over again would barely qualify for a position in a school unless the job involved a mop and a bucket... Does anyone out there know what became of our curmudgeony old Farmer Kelly anyway? Stuffed and mounted in a glass case in the Anthropology wing of some museum perhaps...

Posted by: red rooster 23rd May 2009, 09:37am

Just stumbled on this board brings back some memories, I was at kennedy st. the barony and parson street.

Duck I remenber your dad vividly, like some of the other posters here I had difficulty settling in at first and dogged it for about 2 weeks, my mum was summoned to your dads office and he was very helpful and offered some kind words, despite the fact that i had only ever referred to him to my parents by his nickname and my mum called him Mr.Chips all the way through the meeting! ALthough always a very serious type of guy, I think he saw the funny side of it and never held it agaist me.

Other teachers I can rember (though not sure if they were Kennedy St. or Barony) were wee chick who taught geography, who when you were late for his class would say " 1 just now, a note or 2 tomorrow" I was always late and always opted for the note which an oother frequent late comer would forge for me as part of a reciprocal agreement.

Big Willie Mc Laughlan an english teacher with a great sense of humour always called everyone by their nickname, would hold a panel where 4 guys would sit at the front of the class and answer questions about any subject, one day he put his hand up and asked a question of the panel , do I have a nickname, never forget one of the guys standing up and answering"sir - the majority of the class call you Big Willie"

I remember those stairs in the Barony mentioned earlier, we used to refer to them as Farmer's stairs.

Posted by: Jim Cameron (Cammy) 23rd May 2009, 05:25pm

Hi ,

I attended the mungo in the late 60's into 70's went to the the Kent and then the Barony . Played in the fitba team for Mr Benson . Would love to hear from any one who remembers me from those days .


Posted by: Mike Docherty 27th May 2009, 07:23am

Hey - what happened to my post of May 22 -23 ?

Posted by: BigArturo1 27th May 2009, 09:48am

Hey, Mike,

Maybe there are some SMA former pupils acting as site monitors and you upset someone's uncle who used to be a teacher !

Posted by: Jim Cameron (Cammy) 27th May 2009, 02:12pm

I have been reading the posts which have brought back great memories from my time at the 'Mungo'

I attended St Kents then the barony 67- 70 before leaving for Holyrood

I recall alot of the names of the teachers and pupils , my first year form master was Greig 2nd year was Bro Allan I think never forgwet wee Tam Farr from bonkle

Some of the guys in my class i can recall Luke Garry , Guiseppi Camillo , Danny Houston Charlie McFadzen I also played for the Mungo football A team Bensons team with guys like Gerry Rice , Davy mc Cue , Geordie McKenzie

Dont live in Glasgow now but i love coming back ah the memories !!!!

Posted by: Mike Docherty 28th May 2009, 09:02pm

So, Arturo - are you suggesting there's some underhanded conspiracy afoot amongst the monitors to suppress our freedom of speech ? As the saying goes " Just because I may be totally paranoid doesn't mean they're NOT out to get me ! " I'd like to think that since most of us Ex-Mungoloids were from a (fairly)similar background that we could recognize a spirited dig for what it was - either that or they just might have to grow a pair and get over it.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 29th May 2009, 05:58am

I couldn't help but crack a smile at Red Rooster's comments about Big Wullie McLaughlin, hitting the nail square on the head in his description of the man. He did in deed have a great sense of humor and I don't remember him ever putting anyone down or berating them in front of their peers unlike some of his fellow teachers and he taught his classes in a way that made them interesting and even enjoyable. He was my 5th Year English teacher ( and possibly part of my 4th Year - It's been a while ) in Parson St. and he tolerated my tardiness and absences along with most of the other crap that went hand-in-hand with being a 15-16 year-old flake back then and dished out enough encouragement to get me through 'O' Levels and Highers... And so it was saddening to learn yesterday of his passing after several years of illness. I'm sure I will not be alone when I say he was a straightforward, decent guy as well as an excellent teacher - one of the best. He will be fondly remembered and he will be greatly missed. Rest in Peace, Wullie .

Posted by: george skinner 6th Jun 2009, 08:38pm

stumbled across this page today I was at the Mungo about 1971-1975, originally at st pat's, happened to pass by St Mungo's chapel just two weeks ago to rekindle memories, all changed now though eh guys?? George Skinner

Posted by: Kentigern 10th Jun 2009, 06:08pm

Latest and sad news from the old alma mater, Bro Mungo's death notice is in todays Herald Intimations. Don't do god any longer but RIP should he be looking out for ye sad.gif

Posted by: ann marie 18th Jun 2009, 09:23pm

can anyone help me please?

my dad is about to be 60 and id like to make a scrapbook for him...old pics, the school he went to etc etc. i know he won a scholarship to st mungos around the age of 12 maybe and im quessing it was around 1952 he started there. id love to find pics to print off of his head teacher and class teachers etc but i dont know where to start!

his name is frank stewart and he had a sister brenda and a brother james, they lived in lily street dalmarnock. does anyone remeber him and could help me with the class teachers etc? who the marist brothers were then? i reqally want this to be a surprise for him and dotn wqant to ask him the details obviously!

many many thanks for any help anyone at all has.

Posted by: Kentigern 6th Jul 2009, 08:05pm

Ann Marie, probably a bit late in the school year but phone the School. They have a business manager who's dead helpful, her name now escapes me.

My relatives who taught there are now gone, however if your dad's to be 60 then he's only ten years older than I so it's likely to be 62 he started. I may know somebody who knew him and if you are still searching PM me and I'll see if I can help.

Nil Sine Labore biggrin.gif

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 6th Jul 2009, 10:39pm

Ann Marie the school recently celebrated an anniversary and i know some people lent them phots etc. Also there are loads of photographs on the school's page on Friends reunited. It's free to join and you can sign up under your dad's name. When did he leave the school was he fifteen (1964/65 or did he stay on till he was 18.


Check this http://tinyurl.com/q6dfgs for photos of High Street and Old Townhead. There's one of St. Mungo's Academy's entrance


Posted by: *kim* 13th Jul 2009, 04:05am

My Father was sent to St Mungo's some time in the late 1930's. He was getting 100% in school, so they moved him there. He hated it. Said it was dreary and miserable. One of the things he speaks of is the entrance being up some hill and very "old looking"

Posted by: Kentigern 15th Jul 2009, 06:32pm

Brilliant link, you japester sinestra dextra, our old Legion marching cry up the Appian.......

Photies of Papas and that one of that lass walking down High St, what a pair of pins cool.gif

Posted by: Jim Heffernan 20th Jul 2009, 08:26pm

Brings back so many memories even thought I was ther 1968 to 1974. Started in St Roch's then down to the Kent then up to Parson St. Being one of those nasty rugby types that Brickly liked I used to go round the classes looking for members - went to 3E2 studying physics - playing with plasticine!!! What a school - from incredibly bright talented people through to Townhead thugs. What an experience - loved every second - incredible!!!

Posted by: Michael Docherty 20th Jul 2009, 11:32pm

Excellent photo gallery - After reading Kentigern' s post mentioning Papa's I had to go back for a second look and sure as Hell, there was Papa's nestled in among the other businesses. Just up the hill from Papa's - On the block just north of High St's intersection with Duke St and on the west side of the street there was a store that sold second-hand TVs and sundry household electrical appliances and we would pause for a few minutes to see what the lunchtime news had to offer and I remember the street being crowded with lunchtime passers-by, trying to catch some hint of what was happening with the Apollo 13 mission when it looked like they may be ( literally ) lost in space while David Bowie's ' Space Oddity was ironically blaring from a radio inside the store. Directly across the street from the TV store was a second-hand bookstore where I bought Sven Hassel's ' Wheels of Terror ' and Brendan Behan' s ' Borstal Boy', both of which I loaned to Jim McCarthy, never to be seen again - Hope you enjoyed them ya cheesy bastard... Even after moving up to Barony St. for third year some of us would still make the trek down to Papa's for lunch every day - Creatures of gastronomic habit. The proprietor was always a congenial enough guy until one day when a small group of us who were sitting at the counter waiting for our grub we were asked to move to accommodate a couple of Papa's cronies who had just wandered in - the place was small enough to begin with and it was already wall-to-wall people so we respectfully declined. Papa's attitude suddenly changed and he pretty much demanded we relinquish our stools to the newcomers who were visibly embarrassed by the way things were going and when we reassured Papa that we were more than comfortable with the current seating arrangements he lost it and told us to basically get up or get out. A few glances were exchanged and the bunch of us got up and with a parting volley of suggestions as to where he should put his pies we exited and never darkened his doorstep again ( except for one occasion a month or so later when I trotted past the place and tossed 3 of Tam Sheperd's finest stinkbombs inside ). What surprised us was as we left almost everyone else in the place ( fellow Mungoloids, every one ) got up and left also. Whether Papa had a hair up his ass about life in general that day or whether he looked upon the situation as an opportunity to impress the shit out of his friends with his level of authority in the neighborhood, who knows. A shame, though because those pies were damn good...

Posted by: Savage B 28th Jul 2009, 08:42pm

"Today we go ranching in the Ar-gent-ine"

Cyril Burke's entrance in first year geography.

I was at the Mungo 1971-76 - St Kent's, Hanson St and Boden St. I hated the bloody place. I was in the rowing team with Ian Coyle, David Nolan, Mike Teague and Richie Wright - we even won quite a few awards. Mike Docherty I think you might remember the rowing club - I'm not sure but I think you might even have coached us. I seem to remember being belted an awful lot - despite being a former teacher's son - oh well I was probably a prat.

I've gone through the posts and I have to admit to being George Savage's son. You didn't like having him as a teacher - well being his wayward son wasn't fun either. The guy wasn't all bad but he had a history - a very long history. That doesn't excuse his physical abuse but he didn't have an easy life either - and he treated his wife well, although some of kids didn't always see eye to eye.

Anyway this has been a trip down memory lane. I may have hated evert minute I was there but it was five years of my life - and I survived!

For those interested George Savage died in 1998.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 4th Aug 2009, 07:05pm

In response to Savage B's posting -- First of all I had totally forgotten Burkie's 'Ar-gen-tine' thing, must admit that shook a few memories loose from their mothballs - It also brings to mind another of his ( myriad ) tales of wartime adventures in Malaya, which as some Ex-Mungoloids have stated may have been a total fabrication on his part but he insisted on going into great detail about the illnesses one was likely to contract in the Jungle, his least favorite being uncontrollable squirts... Evidently ( according to Burkie ) the word for ' s#%t ' in local Jungle-ese parlance was ' Benjo ' but the word for ' diarrhoea ' was some unpronounceable gibberish so a happy medium was agreed upon by British and locals alike to effectively describe said malady with pidgin-English used to fill in the gaps - hence ' Speedo-Benjo ' -- literally ' Fast s#%t '... Yet another piece of useless information... Anyway, I must confess I was not the rowing club guy you mentioned in your posting - I had absolutely no interest in sports in any way, shape or form and consequently treated them like Green Kryptonite , avoiding them at all costs plus I was long gone by 76. I was an inmate at The Mungo from 67 - 72 from St Kents through The Barony then Parson St, my last day at Parson St. being the first day of what would' ve been my 6th Year - Sept 1st. As it turned out I got no further than the school yard that morning and after the ensuing 'discussion' with Der Fuhrer Bro. Adrian regarding my attitude towards not only school but everything in general, I quit / got booted out -- ( delete where applicable ) -- and wandered off into the sunset, a free man. As far as I can recall I never actually met George Savage, just vague memories of him having a reputation although I doubt if he or anyone else could have measured up to The Kent's own Eddie Onion.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 7th Aug 2009, 08:38am

Thanks for the contribution.

I think most of us are grown up and realise things aren't quite as simple as they look when you're young. St. Mungo's as an institution had many failings. Not all of them can be blamed on individual teachers.

Posted by: Kentigern 10th Aug 2009, 03:11pm

Savage B ye rapscallion ye. Ye went to OLR with me in '69 didn't ye ohmy.gif . It was a gas wasn't it, and your old man like mine was a teacher. (they were mates, did youu know?)

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 10th Aug 2009, 10:40pm

Thanks for the contribution.

I think most of us are grown up and realise things aren't quite as simple as they look when you're young. St. Mungo's as an institution had many failings. Not all of them can be blamed on individual teachers.

This post has been edited by GG: 7th Aug 2009, 07:52pm
Reason for edit: Grammatical advice not required.

The so called grammatical advice not required was a jokey reference to a graduate of St. Mungo's Academy inability to break a long post into paragraphs. I doubt very much the contributor made a complaint.

Posted by: Terry Burke 11th Aug 2009, 11:39am

I attended St Mungo's Academy between 1949 and 1955, in Parson Street throughout with the exception of first year at Kennedy Street. I finished schooling at Parson Street in 1955 and left Glasgow when I matriculated at St Andrews University to read Medicine that same year. Apart from a 4 year stint doing specialist postgraduate work in the Southern General Hospital during the mid-70's I have not really lived continuously in Glasgow since leaving St Mungo's in 1955. I came across this board quite by chance today while "browsing" and I can't tell you how much pleasure the discovery has given me. I have spent most of my professional life practicing Medicine in the Far East (Singapore and Hong Kong) and only returned to Scotland after retiring in 2001. I am now living in rural Aberdeenshire but try to get into Glasgow a few times each year (mainly to hit the book shops!). I would love to hear from any of my old contemporaries from the early 1950's, although I reckon by this time we must be becoming "the thin red line".

I only learned today about the Mass held last year to celebrate 150 years. I wish I had known about it because nothing would have kept me away. I was delighted to see a picture of Brother Adrian taken after the Mass. He taught me Physics, and I was very pleased to learn that he eventually became headmaster. Good for him!!! During my time the headmaster was Brother Clare. Other Marists teaching in Parson Street then besides Brother Adrian were Bother David (Maths), Brother Gerard (Maths), Brother Luperque (French and Spanish) and Brother Malcolm (History). My favourite teacher was Mr John Gilroy (Chemistry) who gave me a lot of encouragement and without him I doubt if I would ever have gone onto St Andrews University. He was a good teacher and for me, a great guy!

Reading some of the other postings brought smiles to me. I remember Mr Barry only too well!
He taught Chemistry and was also Assistant Head Master. Every morning he lurked in a doorway beside the entry tunnel waiting to catch latecomers. Punctuality was never my forte, so he nabbed me almost every day. Being an absolute coward I took the easier option of making a "voluntary" contribution to the foreign missions rather then getting belted. Over the years I was at St Mungo's I must have financed some mission station almost single-handed. Mr Barry and (Farmer) Kelly were close friends and both were definitely on the wrong side of extreme eccentricity. There is no way that teachers nowadays could ever get away with what some of those characters did then. I am deeply grateful to St Mungo's and all my past teachers there, both eccentric and otherwise. They helped to shape my values and outlook on life. I certainly no longer accept uncritically some of their religious viewpoints, but then those viewpoints have to be remembered in the context of more than half a century ago. All in all, St Mungo's was a great school and I was priveleged to attend it.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 14th Aug 2009, 01:34am

In reference to Dexter's most recent rant - Posting # 148 - Call me paranoid but I suspect it may have been aimed at me. My computer appears to be living up to it's nickname, ie 'The Dell from Hell' as it has always had a bizarre habit of reconfigurating the structure of just about every Email I have ever typed into it - in other words I wind up with paragraphs that bear little resemblance to paragraphs and spacing where there should be none. Since none of our local exorcists will go near my Dell the only option will be to either drag it into the alley and pump a few rounds into it from my trusty Mossberg or replace it - Christmas is not that far off , after all. So, as far as Dexter is concerned - no offence taken where my paragraphs are concerned. However, should he choose to approach either my diphthongs or my dangling participals with anything resembling malice that would be a different matter indeed... Best wishes to all the Mungoloids out there...

Posted by: JohnD 63 -69 16th Aug 2009, 01:59pm

I've enjoyed the dose of nostalgia you guys have doled out. I went to Ra Mungo (or Academy, Academy rah rah rah. depending on your mood , or the company you wer with.) from I think 63 via Kennedy Street for the first 2 years. Then Farmer Kelly's Barony St., before enduring 4th and 5th years in Parson St.
I thouroughly enjoyed 6th year. Most of which was spent hanging around the Lido Cafe or the Kenco Coffee house in the city centre.
I vividly remember Wee Joe Barry lurking in the 'Child Gudance Clinic' in the 'pen' you had to go through. Clutching his 'Tardy Host' with wee drawings of dogs against names of absentees or 'doggers'.
I lived in Riddrie and had to get the 38 bus which either arrived at 5 to 9 which was just enough time to stroll through the pen with impunity. Or, too frequently would be held up in some traffic jam on Alexandra Parade and I would yet again come into school with my two hands outstretched for the ritual two of the belt before I started my studies. A great way to motivate pupils!

Sometimes (I don't know why) Wee Joe would would make all that morning's catch of latecomers wait for a full period in the CGC before allowing us to catch up at the 2nd Period. It would always be in the coldest days of winter, when we would stand chittering and stamping our feet to try and generate some warmth.
I remember one particular winter's day when it had snowed deeply (hence Wee Joe had a really big catch due to many more busses being late).
The Music room was on the ground floor off the playground/assembly area/ prison yard (delete to taste). Some poor students were being forced to listen to some Wagnerian march as part of their Music Appreciation. As the crackled sounds leaked out to the yard, Wee Joe took delight in forcing us to march round and round the playground/assembly area/ prison yard, turning the foot high snow to slushy troughs while our cheap black shoes soaked in more and more freezing moisture as our toes neared frostbite.
I don't recall seing Wee Joe happier...
'Elf an' safety? Whit's that fur?
Oh Happy Days.

Posted by: BigArturo1 17th Aug 2009, 03:11pm

In response to a couple of postings :

Terry Burke – I enjoyed your posting, Terry, and from the years you attended SMA, you are a generation older than me. I don’t think it is coincidental that most of the postings complaining about the “discipline” being belted out are from pupils who attended in the 60’s and 70’s, who did not have the same “respect” for authority that previous generations had. From memory, wee Joe Barry and Farmer Kelly would be in their 50’s / early 60’s when I attended in the 1960’s and were no doubt steeped in a pre World War 2 mentality which my own generation could not understand. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t doubt a school with a couple of hundred teenage boys needs discipline – I have raised a couple of teenagers myself and remember the stress – but as JohnD remarked, it was the enjoyment Barry and Kelly got from making us suffer and for what – a late bus caused by snow. And this from a school with a supposed Christian ethic.

Michael Doc – don’t let Dex’s literary criticism upset you. Long paragraphs are in style as reading any Cormac McCarthy novel will show.

JohnD – I recognise the playground march routine well, with wee Joe wrapped up in his Russian greatcoat with his bulbous red nose, enjoying watching his pupils shivering as they trudged through the slush. Character building, eh ?

As I mentioned in my first post, overall I enjoyed my time at The Mungo albeit the later years as I found 1st and 2nd years quite traumatic. Little did I realise after I moved from Kennedy Street after 2 years, the delights that awaited me under the Kelly / Barry regimes at the “big school”. Still I survived and achieved decent qualifications which have stood me in good stead in my career flipping quarter pounders at Burger King.

Posted by: Terry Burke 17th Aug 2009, 06:46pm

I enjoyed Big Arturo's and John D's postings. I am absolutely horrified with John D's account of Wee Joe's obvious sadism in replicating a scene from a "gulag" on a heavily snowing day by marching latecomers round and round through snow one foot deep. I describe it as sadism because it was not just an exercise in naked power. As John D confirms, Wee Joe derived great pleasure from inflicting this discomfort and humiliation. I honestly cannot remember Wee Joe ever having a kind or friendly word for any pupil. In retrospect I believe that he must have been a deeply unhappy man, not to say even a disturbed one. To be honest I have not given a lot of thought to this sort of behaviour for many years. Big Arturo is right when he says that my generation at the Academy (1949-1955) simply accepted this as something to be accepted . I suppose we did, and let's face it we were only kids living in a very conformist era. But what is equally disturbing is the silence of the other teachers and the Brothers who witnessed the sadism. They were adults and surely they must have recognised that morally it was wrong and unjust, but apparently did nothing to address it. Projecting what we experienced in the relatively safe and secure environment of a day school in a big modern city with their safeguards, into the less well protected environments of an orphanage, a borstal or a prison and it becomes easier to appreciate the "how's" and the "why's" of the abuse stories we read about.

Thank God that era has gone. I am still very proud of St Mungo's and all it did for me and all it gave me, but I am ashamed that adults who should have known better such as teachers and Brothers simply looked the other way when obvious sadism was going on in their midst. They let us down.

Posted by: Terry Burke 18th Aug 2009, 12:07pm

More thoughts on the sadism and bullying. On further reflection I think that I was probably too harsh in condemning the rest of the staff for not doing something about it. It is easy in hindsight to think that they should have. On the other hand they were embedded in the culture in the same way that the kids were. There were also part of a conforming and compliant culture. It took what the philosophers of science call a "paradigm shift" for society as a whole to say "wait a minute, things do not need to be like that". It would be unfair to judge them harshly because they were unable to hold attitudes that would be in advance of their time. Like the kids they probably just accepted things as being the way they were. Mistakenly, they may even have believed that harshness can contribute to character building. Anyway, what do the rest of you think?

Turning to another topic, the Academy did not do at all bad academically. Out of my final year in the Academy in 1955, four of us went onto to become consultant psychiatrists (Joe Donahue, Brian McNamee, John McCurley and I) and there was another chap called Joe Duffy who was I think one year behind us who also ended up doing psychiatry. Certainly there were more psychiatrists than priests in the end,(was there something about the Academy that made it more conducive to future psychatrists!), although Frank Wilson who was also in our year also did Medicine and worked as a GP until retirement before being ordained as a priest a couple of years ago in Glasgow.

Posted by: Terry Burke 19th Aug 2009, 07:59pm

That picture of Staff posted on 12 March 2009 by Duck must have been taken during the late 1950's because it appeared in Brother Clare's "History" of the Academy. I remember that he sent me a copy while I was still a medical student and I graduated in 1961. I recognise many, but not all of the Teaching Staff. I have named the teachers I do recognise and their subjects, while the unknown ones I have simply marked as X.

BACK ROW from left; X, X, X, X, Gilroy (Chemistry), Love (English), X, X, X, X, X, X, X.
SECOND BACK ROW; Cooper (Latin), X, X, X, X, O'Neill (Maths), X, X, X, X.
MIDDLE ROW; McCann (Music), X, X, X, O'Hare (French), X, X, X, X, Bennet (English), X, X.
SECOND FRONT ROW; X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, X, Can't Remember Name (PT), Thomson
(Chemistry), X, X, Romano (Italian).
FRONT ROW; Barry (Chemistry), X, Brother Adrian (Physics), X, X, X, X, Brother Clare
(Headmaster), Brother Luperque (Spanish), Brother Gerard (Maths), Brother David (Maths), X, X, X, X.

Can anybody fill in the remaining blank X's?


Posted by: Terry Burke 19th Aug 2009, 10:15pm

STAFF PHOTOGRAPH


CORRIGENDUM:


MIDDLE ROW; read O'Hagan (French) and not O'Hare.

Posted by: Rambler 1st Sep 2009, 08:08pm

I have enjoyed these pages and the recollections they prompt, recognising many of the characters and sharing some of the experiences. I recall there was a Former Pupils club (on Gt Western Rd), and presume that has long gone.

My memories of SMA are overwhelmingly positive and I'm glad I went there. Certainly, there were some inadequate individuals holding the chalk & tawse (and some curious co-pupils), but in the round most were decent, well-balanced and supportive people.

Forty years on, I recal the joys of lunching from City Bakeries and Tony's Fish & Chip Shop on Parliamentary Rd, Fred's Chippy on castle St (next to the old barber who demanded to see your money before cutting) and Papas on High St. One of my strongest memories is of a helluva water-gun fight at Kennedy Street in '69. Lasting 3 days, just about every kid had his weapon of mass soaking and every kid was a target. Brilliant! The clampdown was equally memorable; the ramping up of 'hostilities' reached proportions that couldn't be ignored. Skoosher searches were carried out by 'Dada' Kelly, 'Paddy/Irish' Waldrin, 'Cecil' McEnerny, 'Jackanory' McLelland and 'Mr Bennett' (who had played for Celtic in his day). Damp hair, a soggy blazer or any other hint of participation would get you the belt and mass tawsings were common. No place for bespoke shop-bought weaponry, contrived devices were hurredly concealed on these searches. Easy for those with recommissioned Jif lemon squeezies, more difficult if you had a less subtle giant-sized Fairy Liquid bottle. Borne out of some guy's desperation, one of the latter had been urgently disowned by perching atop the nail affixing the class Crucifix. That had all us kids in stitches because it somehow evaded detection until spirited away later.

It was nice to see the photos of Bro. Adrian and Bro. Alan, which brought back memories, not least of the ardour of mathematical proofs. I wish them well. I was sorry to hear about Big Wullie. Larger than life, he was a very decent and well liked guy. Intersting, looking back, the best and most professional teachers were those that rarely, if ever, resorted to corporal punishment: Big Wullie, Chips Rafferty, Bro. Alan, Morgan (Maths), McPherson & Corrigan (Chemistry), Jack O'Neil (English), Hugh O'Neil (Dep Head) and his daughter (taught Geography).

I had only one run-in with Wee Barry, but it was bizarre thing. In 3rd Year a couple of us were carpeted for some misdemeanour. He belted us while, in his other hand, he pointed a fake gun at us. Never understood that.

More explicable (but inexcusable) was the 1st Year belting from henderson (geography) at Homework Classes (4.30-6pm). A proper tawser and disturbed to find someone had chalked defamatory remarks concerning his proclivities, he belted all of us (about a dozen) viciously. We all had prominent weals of red & blue on our wrists that could not be disguised easily and lasted several days. Perhaps more surprising, in retrospect, was that a few of us had to plead with our parents not to come up to the school over it, as that would have been our street cred down the tubes. Changed days!

Mostly, though, things were good and the peppering of pleasantly eccentric sorts added a bit of colour. Like the boundless enthusiasm of McParland (French), the frustrated Etonian master that was McEnerny (also French), the incredible story-telling of 'Jackanory' McLelland (chemistry) and , of course, Big Shug (Hugh Ennis). I didn't learn too much from these particular guys, but it was an entertainment not to be missed.

Posted by: *PaulK* 9th Sep 2009, 12:02am

I've scanned the sixth year yearbook, "Ipse Dixit" from 1923-74 here
http://www.flickr.com/photos/8003219@N08/sets/72157622189713929/detail/

Anyone willing to own up to being in any of these? Taken at hanson street after we were kicked out of parson St.

Posted by: Kentigern 10th Sep 2009, 05:06pm

Another "Brother Down".

Bro Lucas is in todays Herald dispatches. Must have been a good ag ohmy.gif

Posted by: *PaulK* 10th Sep 2009, 10:48pm

Thought I had posted this the other night. Anyway, I've scanned the sixth year yearbook, Ipse Dixit, from 73-74 and you can see it here. http://www.flickr.com/photos/8003219@N08/sets/72157622189713929/
Anyone recognise themselves?

Posted by: Kentigern 13th Sep 2009, 10:54am

Youse were the big boys, I was in 3rd year then and recognise a lot of those faces.Scary stuff. Burnt Hanson St down the next year, naughty boys the year below me, which led to a decant to the evil Boden St, jeezuz........

In the staff photies are two of the most charasmatic teachers to stalk the earth. Bro Justin a minor saint, and poor Ian Gilroy who drank himself to death by the end of that decade. Bro David sadly was a little pervert who liked watching boys in the showers at Loretto

Posted by: Michael Docherty 13th Sep 2009, 09:39pm

A few familiar faces among Paul K's photos - Mr Pignatelli - Taught French unless I am mistaken -- a decent, down to earth guy who was my form teacher at Parson St. for a while in 5th year during a period when the school was re-shuffling and merging classes. Bro Alan who was one of my First Year Math teachers. Last period on Fridays were always a delight when he got the weekend off to a rousing start by chasing the slowpokes down the staircase, swinging that belt of his like a Samurai sword and, woe betide anyone unfortunate enough to come within range, causing some of us to develop certain survival tactics such as the deliberate tripping of a fellow classmate to slow the Good Bro's pursuit and effectively sacrificing one of your own for the greater good of the tribe. Happy days indeed. And on the passing of Bro. Lucas ( Kentigern's posting # 159 ) who took over the Headmaster position at The Kent after Bro. Joseph vanished in a swirling, choking cloud of blue cigarette smoke early in my Second Year circa 68 - 69. Bro Lucas wore a perpetual glowering scowl on his face and having seen him attempt laughter on one solitary occasion I found the scowl to be much more agreeable. Rumor was that he had broken his neck at some point but whatever the cause his head was permanently cocked to one side at an unnatural angle and he swiveled from the waist up if he needed to look to either side. He was known to have a vile temper which I witnessed on two occasions although his rage seemed to be fairly well justified each time. The first incident happened one lunchtime when an overly-zealous kick sent a football flying through his office window, startling the crap out of him and sending him into a screaming frenzy which resulted in a ban on any ball-related activities in the yard for as long as he was boss. Thanks to this decision many of us took to pitching pennies, shooting dice and playing game of poker as an alternative and a fair amount of money changed hands as a result so his decision inadvertently contributed to our understanding of modern 1960s economics. His second and more intense meltdown came about because of a punch-up in the yard. Two of the Second Year guys were engaged in some serious fisticuffs ( perhaps one caught the other cheating at game of poker ) and the accompanying jeers and yells of the surrounding crowd alerted Bro. Lucas to the fracas in progress. He charged through the crowd, grabbed the two pugilists and having cracked their skulls together to gain their attention demanded apologies and explanations for behaving like common peasants. One of the miscreants insisted it was a case of mistaken identity and that he had had no involvement in any altercation which drove the Bro into a snarling rage - Evidently two guys attempting to murder each other in front of an audience of dozens, if not hundreds of witnesses was bad enough but blatantly lying to a man of the cloth was going over the score. The Bro held it together long enough to give the liar a chance to come clean with the fateful ultimatum - " Look me straight in the eye, boy and tell me you weren't fighting ", to which the kid responded by cocking his head to an angle similar to that of Bro Lucas and looking him straight in the eye ( literally ) and repeating his denial of involvement. For a split-second time seemed to stand still and everyone gawked in stunned disbelief before The Bro shattered the silence with a roar and dragged the object of his ire by the hair up to his office where he no doubt beat the kid within an inch of his life. Aaah, those Halcyon days of our youth...

Posted by: *PaulK* 13th Sep 2009, 09:51pm

QUOTE (*PaulK* @ 9th Sep 2009, 12:19am) *
I've scanned the sixth year yearbook, "Ipse Dixit" from 1923-74 here
http://www.flickr.com/photos/8003219@N08/sets/72157622189713929/detail/

Anyone willing to own up to being in any of these? Taken at hanson street after we were kicked out of parson St.



Obviously I meant 73-74, otherwise it would have been a very long year!

Posted by: Chris McGee 30th Sep 2009, 08:44am

Hi everyone,

I was at St Mungo's from '64-'69, started at Duke St. and ended up at Parson St. I also have some tales to tell, but let me tell you that for many years I have been hoping to find someone who was there when I was.
I seem to have forgotten so much and remembered so much-only with prompting-but I also remember good times as well. I am now living in Australia and am a lecturer at TAFE (Technical College) and if I learned anything it was how not to teach.

I have some pictures of my first foray into St. Kent's if anyone is interested, if so I will post them.

Posted by: Chris McGee 3rd Oct 2009, 02:17am

Hi, my fellow Mungaloids, (I learned this word from my readings of your postings and it seems to fit)

My name is Chris McGee and I was at St. Mungo's from 1964-1969.

I started in St. Kent's-we used to call it Duke Street, then went to Barony Street and finally Parson Street. My first class was 1E1 and I remember lining up with, what appeared at the time, thousands of other pupils! I remember Tommy Farr and Mr. McDermott (I think he took English) and Br. Alexis.
Those two years there were good for me. Now I get a bit mixed up and can't remember all the masters' names, perhaps one of you would help here. I remember Mr. Burke who taught Geography and I recall that every St. Patrick's Day he refused to teach and read the paper instead!
I recall with great clarity Farmer, I wasn't very often late so I did not suffer the wrath like others did. I remember Mr. Barry-more his shoes than anything, the soles seemed so thick-and his Child Guidance Clinic. The toilet doors in Parson St. had holes in them so that the miscreant, smoking students could put their hand through for a belting! Mr. Ewing ( I think) was my French teacher and he also took the Rugby team. I liked him.
We also had a Maths teacher whom we called Elliot Ness. He was a cadavorous looking man who always wore a Fedora and a long great-coat tied in the middle with a belt. He was a very impatient man. He had an awful habit of coughing up phlegm and spitting it into a hankie.
I recall a history teacher-not his name though-who gave me six of the belt for some misdemeanor in class, I'll never forget his eyes as he was lashing me. He was younger, or seemed younger, than the rest of the teachers and always wore a real fancy waistcoat.
Some of my school mates were, James Robertson, Desmond McGunness, Eddie Collins Tony Carr, Ian Cox and Ian (Hamish) McDonald. Hamish was charged with murder one Easter weekend!
I can't wait to hear any replies to this posting, perhaps my memory will be jolted into remembering stories long forgotten

Chris McGee-South Australia

Posted by: Kentigern 6th Oct 2009, 06:05pm

Antipodian Mungoloid Chris, did you ever come across my old man Buchanan, Art Teacher to Jimmy Reids principalship?

One of the other guys on here is Chips Rafferty's son (my cousin) biggrin.gif

Posted by: Chris McGee 6th Oct 2009, 10:34pm

Hi, Kentigern,

Was Chips Rafferty the headmaster?

I remember the art class and the teacher we had was very good at violin making, but his name escapes me!

Chris

Posted by: Duck 7th Oct 2009, 05:45am

[quote name='Chris McGee' date='3rd Oct 2009, 05:22am' post='259808']

I started in St. Kent's-we used to call it Duke Street, then went to Barony Street and finally Parson Street.

Don't think you would have known my Dad, Chris - he was headmaster at Kennedy Street. You probably would have known Kentigern's ,though.

Posted by: Kentigern 7th Oct 2009, 03:59pm

QUOTE (Chris McGee @ 7th Oct 2009, 12:39am) *
Hi, Kentigern,

Was Chips Rafferty the headmaster?

I remember the art class and the teacher we had was very good at violin making, but his name escapes me!

Chris

The violin maker was my dads principal in the Art dept, Jimmy Reid. Yes they were bespoke intruments much prized by professional musicians. Extremely expensive too I remember the old boy telling me

Posted by: Michael Docherty 7th Oct 2009, 08:05pm

Re. Chris McGee and posting # 165 --- The Math Teacher you spoke of must be Hewitson , better known to us as 'Scrooge '. ' Cadaverous ' hits the nail square on the head but nowhere near as cadaverous as Mr. Shields ( Sammy Mensa, who was one of my First Year Latin teachers at St. Kent's ). Shieldsy had a more mummified look to him. Scrooge was my 4th Year Math teacher at Parson St. - A tall, scrawny old bugger with a perpetual scowl on his face and two dark eyes that could bore clean through you. He had nothing that even faintly resembled a sense of humor and when you answered questions he would stare suspiciously with his brows knotted, grinding his teeth and you got the impression he was processing each response for some ugly, hidden meaning. Both correct and incorrect answers were subject to the same scrutiny. It didn't help matters either that some of the guys in the class would sit reading newspapers throughout the entire lesson and basically treat Old Scrooge as if he were invisible. This was always guaranteed to work absolute wonders for his demeanor. I remember the trench coat and the fedora too - a throwback to an earlier time. And to Kentigern - I now find out your old man was Mr. Buchanan - He was one of my Art Teachers when I was at Duke St. and Parson St. -- Always seemed pretty laid-back and referred to almost everyone as ' Mac '. One of the better teachers I remember from Mungo days.

Posted by: Steven Fitzsimons 10th Oct 2009, 04:46pm

Great reading all the memories of the Mungo.I too went to Rigby St. in 1959
and spent two happy years there . My first days there were in a St. Thomas Aquinas uniform as we had just flitted from the Overnewton area of Glasgow to Easterhouse so I had to go to St.Mungo's. I rememember some of the teachers mentioned including Byrne who made us kneel on the floor during R.k. period if we did not have our rosary beads or our ties on. I also remember Mr. Sweeney who was our Headmaster and was affectionately known as the wee bean.
We moved to Barony St. in 1961and I rememember getting 3 of the belt from Farmer for throwing my towel into the classroom on our way back from the swimming at Townhead baths. Great Memories of the old school keep them coming

Steven Fitzsimons

Posted by: *Rambler* 20th Oct 2009, 04:08pm

On Steven Fitzsimon's post#171, I had forgotten about carrying rosary beads! Rigby St and Byrne were before my time, but a decade later there was still the expectation that 'any good St Mungo's boy would always have his rosary beads in his pocket', and many of us did - at least in the earlier years. I'm surprised I had forgotten that. On Michael D's post (#162), I didn't realise that Bro. Lucas had broken his neck. The 'look me in the eye, boy!' was certainly legendary. He took my class for English in 3rd or 4th year and I must say he was always very civil and often naive. His innocent utterances always drew an unintended response. As when once he declared "I don't need to use the strap; I can whip a boy very ably with my tongue". You just don't get innocence like that these days (and it was pretty rare then).

Posted by: Michael Docherty 13th Nov 2009, 05:56am

Re. Rambler's posting # 172 -- I wouldn't swear on the ' broken neck ' thing with Bro. Lucas, it was a common rumor and perhaps another one of those schoolyard myths not unlike the one about Burke, my First Year English teacher at St Kent's although Burkie himself did everything he could to perpetuate the deception that he had spent his WW II years in the steaming jungles of Burma, skewering unlucky Japanese Infantrymen on the end of his trusty, well-worn bayonet. According to an earlier posting by a fellow Ex-Mungoloid the whole thing was a load of bollocks and he was actually in Africa pursuing a career much less nefarious. There was also a well-told tale regarding the dreaded Eddie Onion, The Duke Street ' Nosferatu ' himself. When the light hit his bald head at just the right angle it revealed a network of scars criss-crossing his pointed melon and the rumor was that he had been involved in a particularly nasty car-wreck and had flown through the windshield at a high rate of knots, hence the scarring. The story of Latin teacher McConville being in British Intelligence I believe was true. As for the lurid tales about Barony Headmaster 'Farmer' Kelly being involved in necrophilia and cannibalism - I believe the jury is still out on that one...

Posted by: neil wilson 15th Nov 2009, 01:00pm

QUOTE (Kentigern @ 6th Oct 2009, 06:03pm) *
Antipodian Mungoloid Chris, did you ever come across my old man Buchanan, Art Teacher to Jimmy Reids principalship?

One of the other guys on here is Chips Rafferty's son (my cousin) biggrin.gif


was this the 1st XV that beat the FP,s 8 - 4. do you remember my older brother, Philip Wilson. He was a member of the team. I am also an FP. I was in the 1st XV 77-78 & 78-79.

Posted by: Angel Eyes 15th Nov 2009, 11:33pm

Hi. Both my brothers attended St. Mungo's Academy in the '60's. Actually I've been trying for ages to try to find a site that'll take me into former pupils of Charlotte St. around 1969. Can anyone help, as I seem to have done everything to find information, but I'm just not getting there! I'd appreciate your help. Thanks.

Posted by: neil wilson 18th Nov 2009, 10:07pm

QUOTE (Kentigern @ 18th Jan 2009, 12:11am) *
Magoo, is also the same poor sod I alluded to in the RUPERT reference.

I was there 71-77, played for the first XV 75-77, when at one stage we had a brilliant team and on my greatest day beat the FP's, Con McGinnley et al.

I also went to St Petes in Partick, both annexes and was an altar boy at St Simons


hi Kentigern, reading the tales of days gone by have reminded me of some of the happiest times of my life. You may remember my brother, Philip Wilson, who was one of the team which beat the FP's 8 - 4 if i remember correctly. You guys made it impossible for the teams that followed you. You may also remember my uncle Neil Diamond, also an FP, who was also involved in coaching rugby in the 60's and early 70's.

I have pride in also being a Former Pupil and being a member of the 1st XV in two seasons 77-78 & 78-79. Thank you all on this site for reminding me how important Nil Sine Labore has been to me in my life.

regards neil wilson


Posted by: sujay 19th Nov 2009, 02:18am

QUOTE (Dexter St. Clair @ 5th Sep 2008, 07:16pm) *
Obviously there were some amount of snobs at Saint Mungo's Academy but if one had money one sent one's boy to St. Aloysius College where the Jesuits offered a higher class of education. Some said your father had to be a priest before you could get a place in this Garnethill school but given the number of sons of bookies and publicans in the classes money talked.


No........ wrong..........poor and bright got in............even if you couldn't pay fees.
My 3 brothers attended St Als. in the 80's

Posted by: Kentigern 19th Nov 2009, 08:37pm

QUOTE (neil wilson @ 15th Nov 2009, 12:58pm) *
was this the 1st XV that beat the FP,s 8 - 4. do you remember my older brother, Philip Wilson. He was a member of the team. I am also an FP. I was in the 1st XV 77-78 & 78-79.

Yes that was the halcyon spring evening of May 1976. I remember your brother well, I played No8 and the score was I recall 6-4 and never ever done before. Christus what a piss-up afterwards. It was a superb team that year and did all sorts of crazy stuff.

Posted by: neil wilson 19th Nov 2009, 09:33pm

QUOTE (Kentigern @ 19th Nov 2009, 08:35pm) *
Yes that was the halcyon spring evening of May 1976. I remember your brother well, I played No8 and the score was I recall 6-4 and never ever done before. Christus what a piss-up afterwards. It was a superb team that year and did all sorts of crazy stuff.


thank you for your reply. I am pleased that Uncle Neil was instrumental in helping you. I know his input went a long way in forming the person I am. Going to Loretto as a child gave me the desire to play for the 1st XV and his encouragement along with the bending of a few residential rules eventually got me into the school which allowed me to attain my dream. I played in the same team as Phil in year 77-78 and at that time i was on top of the world. I remember your name and am sure that our paths have crossed. Maybe one day our paths will cross again and we can sit over a pint or two or three or four and enjoy talking over the old times. regards Neil

Posted by: i mc crory 24th Dec 2009, 08:11pm

very interesting all of the comments.i went to the wee mungo and on to the big. The teachers were all rather odd, but no more than the norm at that time 1951-57.

we had just come out of a war and many of the teachers had had a pretty bloody time.

i went to biarritz 5 times it cost your family 52 pounds or less depending on what they could pay.

the grounding it gave me in french and in seeing another side of life led me and others to look

outside glasgow for a future.40 years in the diplomatic and i did take my children to biarritz when

in the embassy in paris 5 times in fact.i am grateful to farmer kelly wee mr bland and jo barry.

i was lucky to be in glasgow and went to mr barrys requiem mass at st mungos some years past.

i mc crory

Posted by: Michael Docherty 26th Dec 2009, 07:53pm

Here's wishing a very Merry Christmas to all the Mungoloids out there whether they be past, present or future and may your New Year be a safe, happy and prosperous one.

Posted by: Scottybhoy 19th Jan 2010, 11:53am

Hi there,

My Dad (Charlie Docherty) went to St. Mungo's Academy and St. Kents as well in the 40s and 50s, and lived in Black Street, Townhead.

Does anyone remember him? If so, please get in touch, as we're doing a podcast called Glasgow Generations on iTunes that talks about growing up in the 40s and onwards in the City, and would love to hear from anyone with any memories of my Dad or even just about your time here.

Cheers,

Scott

Posted by: Michael Docherty 14th Jun 2010, 07:57pm

Any of the Ex-Mungoloids out there who haunted The Barony circa 1969-'70 - Feel free to throw in your two cents' worth re. names of teachers and fellow students as many of them tend to be elusive these days... My Third Year at the Mungo started off with the usual rallying of the troops in the yard of the Parson St. Building - new territory after two years of Duke St and the unforgettable bouquet of the Molendinar The entryway into Parson St. always reminded me of the barbican of a mediaeval castle and I often found myself looking up at the roof of the archway, trying to spot the murder-holes where boiling oil or a volley of poison-tipped arrows could be rained down upon us at any given moment. We stood there, dozens of us herded in like so many head of cattle until we packed the place out, shoulder to shoulder as some teacher or other bellowed out names from an upper balcony, assembling us into classes and in groups we shuffled off to our new accommodations within the bosom of the Barony St. building. This was where the majority of us made the acquaintance of the dreaded ' Farmer ' Kelly, notorious despot and headmaster of The Barony. During our first two years at St. Kent's we had heard many rumors about him from fellow Mungoloids and teachers alike - none of it good - accompanied by physical descriptions of the man, none of which had any real impact until you got to see him in the flesh for the first time as he glared and snarled, brandishing a maw filled with 'teeth' that I have never seen before or since on any creature that walked upright... And so our first day turned into more of a parade-ground inspection with all of us forming ranks and standing at attention like statues while he inspected his new troops. He produced a 6" ruler from somewhere within the folds of his voluminous cloak and strolled down the lines, occasionally flicking someone's hair if it should dare encroach upon the collar of his blazer and even measuring exactly how far the offensive mop may extend BELOW the collar, God forbid. Many of us received our first ' hair-related ' bollockings that day and life under Farmer's rule became a constant game of Cat & Mouse for those of us who believed in Tonsorial Rebellion. Evidently he had attended the same school of tact and diplomacy as Eddie Onion in the sense that he seemed to revel in the humiliation of his flock, especially when it came to matters of 'appearance'. His endless harangue concerning one kid who had an out-of-control plook problem left me convinced there were no mirrors in his own house. Having successfully left all of us with red faces we were dispatched to our new abode on the top floor of The Barony, a 50/50 mix of St. Kent's and Kennedy St guys who were now collectively known as 3E1 and lauded as an experimental ' Art Specialists' Class ' and despite the gloomy beginning to this new school year it would eventually prove to be one of the best. Happy days...

Posted by: Michael Docherty 23rd Jun 2010, 02:48am

Hey, guys - where is my posting from Monday of last week ?!!

Posted by: Michael Docherty 10th Jul 2010, 02:39am

Just wondering if this site is still actually up and running - I see no new postings since January of this year and at least 7 or 8 of mine have vanished into some kind of Mungo Limbo ...

Posted by: Des McGuinness 18th Jul 2010, 03:11pm

Hi

Just found the site for 1st time and enjoyed the names/tales. Prompted to join by Chris (post 165) whom I knew from primary - St Alphonsus, whose church was alluded to in post 19.

I was at Duke St for 3 years, Barony for one then Parson St for one.

One of my Duke St memories was a trip to Switzerland in 1966. The SMA party arrived at the new Glw Airport to find the plane had left a couple of hours earlier with 60+ empty seats. Blame was never apportioned but we did make the Daily Record the next day having spent the night in the now gone George Hotel in Buchanan St. Breakfast - a cup of tea & a single digestive.

Burkie was my first form teacher. I recall him lecturing the class about carrying cash to Celtic Park after he had his wallet dipped at a game (surely a visiting fan). I saw him a few times in the Jungle so that part of his story is true. Maybe not the same Jungle though. He was a decent sort and seemed to turn his hand to most subjects.

Teacher names most familiar to me are Bros Mungo and Alexis, Big Shug O'Neil, McConville, Pacitti, Ewing, Farr, O'Hanlon, McAloon, & McDermott. I think the latter may be the same person who still contacts Herald Sport about refereeing injustices against CFC. He once kicked me on the backside at Loreto for some comment he overheard me making about him to a mate but I don't bear a grudge. The others had their good/bad points and I recall the first 4 non clerics with more warmth. My preference for languages & geography probably swayed me.

I remember a chemistry teacher (Meechan ?) in the Barony poring large amounts of water over my trousers after hydrochloric acid was spilled on them. The entire class found it hilarious but by the time I got home I had to explain the resultant large holes in my trousers to my Dad and the potential for more serious tissue damage began to sink in. Same teacher wrongly included my name in the candidates list to sit the O level exam after the prelims. I immediately protested and despite his encouragement to ignore the oversight and allow me to 'cram' for the exam I ensured my name was not put forward such was my abhorence of CO2+HCL = ?? Still double dutch to me.

Parson St seemed all together more relaxed.

Some pupil names I recall are David Connor, Severino Camillo, Ian 'Smiler' Wilson, George Reilly & Felix ?surname.

Regards to all

Des McGuinness

Posted by: wee davy 18th Jul 2010, 05:15pm

Welcome to the boards, Des - I will give you a PM sometime - I was at Kennedy St 64'-65', Duke Street in 65-66, then Parson St. I so remember being unable to go on that trip (like many others throughout my childhood).
You certainly remember a lot of teachers. McConville wiz maths? One I will never forget, was a guy named Mr Shields (his son was in our class) who used to teach Latin (a complete nutter). I have a story on here about him, somewhere - I'll try and find it for you.

Awra best

davy

Posted by: BigArturo1 11th Aug 2010, 10:20am

Still up and running Michael and I see it's had over 46,000 hits - must be a lot of Mungo FP's all over the world.

Posted by: jimmy g. 31st Aug 2010, 06:49pm

QUOTE (Isobel @ 25th May 2008, 06:42pm) *
As an ex pupil of Charlotte St who knew many young lads who attended St Mungo's you have given me lots of laughs. Can you just imagine all of this taking place today, no way. It was the same in Charlotte St. Big long straps hidden in the pockets of the gowns. Pointers that were on occasions used as weapons.Don't speak unless you are spoken to. Those were the days.
We were taught the meaning of respect. Don't want to go back to such tough days ,however it has gone too much the other way. Get respect back in the classroom and let the teachers do their work with less interference from parents.

Hi, ISOBEL,

This is the first time I have been on this website..I met two ex MUNGO BOYS on Saturday in the RHODERICK DHU Pub in GLASGOW. They gave me this website info..

I have enjoyed lots of the replys...I am probably older than most of the participants..BUT..I can only say that I have been impressed by the grasp of the English Language these boys have, even after all the complaints made.?? AND from all over the World.

IF..I may pay you a compliment...YOUR LAST FEW SENTENCES HIT THE MARK.!!!!.

RESPECT..RESPECT...AND LET TEACHERS DO WHAT THEY DO WELL..IF THEY GET A CHANCE...

On a lighter note Isobel..I remember working really hard in class..Because if we did well, we were part of the Group of the Mungo Boys allowed to visit Charlotte St. School to sell tickets for the "MUNGO ANNUAL DANCE"...That was in the 1950's...You were all "Wee Brown Uniformed DARLINS" even then....

LOTSA..

JAMES GIBBONS..(JIMMY G.)

Posted by: Big Arturo1 1st Sep 2010, 02:33pm

Glad to see you found the website, Jimmy. Talking of "finding" - hope you found your way home safely from Roddy's last Saturday. That was bad company you were in ! Could have stayed all night reminiscing about old Mungo memories but the Shawlands train won't wait.

Posted by: richard2212 2nd Sep 2010, 01:52pm

Have thoroughly enjoyed reading all these mungo memories. I am attaching some of my own below. They take the shape of an extract from my recently published memoirs. If anyone is interested, just go to www.authorhouse.co.uk and then type in the title of my memoirs - Pies Were For Thursdays - into the Bookstore search facility. Up will come details including a free preview extract. The book is available for purchase on all online bookstores or you can go into tesco or wh smith and order it up. Meanwhile I am providing a wee portrait of Farmer Kelly from my book for all you mungo maniacs who remember the man. More portraits available in the book...

QUOTE
Notwithstanding the many excellent teachers I met, the most memorable of all the teachers I came across at St Mungo’s were the ones who seemed to be ‘crackers’.

The whackiest of them all was Farmer Kelly. There just cannot have been a character in any other school who came even close to matching the idiosyncrasies of Farmer. He was called Farmer because he dressed like one, with big coat, big boots and big hat. I first came across Farmer while I was still at the Rigby Street Annexe of St Mungo’s, the school that then stood on my granda’s former allotment, a mere one hundred yards from where I was born.

He walked into my second year class one day in 1956 and announced that he was Mr Kelly and that he had come down to see us especially from Parson Street (where the older pupils were educated) to find out if anybody would like to go to the annual summer school trip to Biarritz in the south of France that he organised. The price would be 32 for one month’s holiday and you would give him 1 per week which he would record in a set of attendance cards that he used for the purpose.

This sounded even better than the two-week trips that I had already enjoyed with St Paul’s primary school but 32 was an awful lot more than 2 and I feared there would be little chance of my father being willing to pay that much for me to have a holiday in France. So I kept my hand down. Just as well! Sitting beside me, my pal Paul also fancied the trip and he felt his family could afford it. So he put his hand up.

‘What is your name, fellow?’ said Farmer.
‘Paul Manina’, said Paul
‘And do you wet the bed, fellow?’
‘No sir’.
‘Do you have nits, fellow?’
‘No sir’.
‘Why do you want to go to Biarritz, fellow?’
‘Because I think I would enjoy it, sir’
‘Are you a Russian, fellow?’
‘No sir’.
‘Then why are you speaking so quickly, fellow?’
‘I don’t know sir.’
‘Not a good enough explanation, fellow. Now does anyone else want to go to Biarritz?’

Needless to say there was a bemused silence! It was to be another two years, when I was in fourth year at Parson Street, before I came across Farmer again. By that time I had discovered that Farmer was the principal teacher of the history department and had a range of idiosyncrasies that defied belief. It is hard to know where to start listing them so I think I shall settle for one or two incidents that exemplified them beautifully.

For one thing, Farmer insisted that every boy, or fellow, should write with a Parker fountain pen. These days you can get a Parker ballpoint pen free just for asking for an insurance quote but in those days they were really quite expensive and it could be a financial struggle for parents to meet this requirement. I managed to get such a pen, for my Christmas I think – but still managed to fall foul of Farmer. I had the misfortune to drop the pen one day and the casing split and would no longer screw on over the inner tube which contained the ink. I could still use the pen, however as the nib was OK and the little silver metallic strip that you squeezed to suck in ink into the inner tube whenever necessary was also fine.

I was using the pen in this condition one day when Farmer swept into the room to conduct what for him passed as a history lesson (more of which in a moment)
‘Please soor,’ said Michael Smyth, one of my pals, raising his hand. ‘Lynas is using a naked Perker!’

I should explain at this point that there was a regular competition among the boys to see who could get a pal into the most trouble with Farmer and thus get him to administer the greatest number of beltings with his strap. Farmer only ever administered the belt in ‘multiples of three fellow, multiples of three.’ So if you got six of the belt from Farmer - and ‘six of the best’ was for some reason the agreed maximum - then in fact you got eighteen of the belt, although to be fair I never saw him going that far. I should emphasise that Farmer was never in the least sadistic. It was just his style! All was fair in love and war – and no hard feelings.

‘Out on the floor fellow,’ said Farmer to me, ‘one of the best, fellow, and multiples of three!’
‘But soor’, said I, ‘there is a very good reason for my using a naked Perker.’

One of Farmer’s other foibles was that you were expected to speak with a posh Kelvinside accent as you tried to talk yourself out of a tight corner. So you said ‘soor’ rather than ‘sir and ‘Perker’ rather than ‘Parker’. After all, there was no point in building up any more multiples of three than was absolutely necessary! Supporting Queen’s Park, the famous amateur football team and owners of Hampden Park, Scotland’s national stadium, was another requirement. Woe betide any boy caught wearing the green and white of Celtic!

‘And why are you using a naked Perker, fellow?’
‘Well soor’, said I, ‘I was filling my Perker with ink today when I noticed that it was looking a little pale. Naturally I was concerned in case it was poorly so I decided to expose the inner tube to the rays of the golden sun in an attempt to revive it.’
This flowery explanation satisfied Farmer so he called out Smiddy and administered one multiple of three to him for failing to appreciate my levels of compassion when it came to caring for my Parker pen. Serve him right!

The lesson that then followed was a Farmer classic. Basically we shared one history book between every two pupils, a weighty tome that seemed to cover all known history, at least up until World War 1, from an English perspective. We never seemed to study any history from a Scottish perspective. I suppose there were not enough senior secondary pupils in Scotland to make the writing of a Scottish history book commercially viable. Nor, for that matter did we ever study anything that happened after the Treaty of Versailles in 1918. I think that Farmer did not count as history anything that had happened in his lifetime.

Anyway the lesson got underway with Farmer using his own very special teaching technique. This required each boy to stand up, read out two sentences from the chapter that we were studying – and then sit down again. The next boy would then stand up, read the next two sentences and sit down again – and so on round and round the class for the whole lesson of thirty-five minutes. Meanwhile Farmer would be sitting at his tall desk, filling in the pupil attendance cards that he used to record payments from those who had somehow managed to meet the criteria that allowed them to go to Biarritz!

When it came my turn to read two sentences, we had reached a section of the book that described, ironically, the awful education system and teachers who existed in the time of Charles Dickens and who were memorably captured by him in ‘Nicholas Nickleby’ in the person of Mr Whackford Squeers, the head of Dotheboys Hall. Unfortunately in my reading of the sentence in question, I pronounced the word ‘Dotheboys’ as if it was like ‘Sothebys’, failing to realise that the word should of course have been pronounced as ‘Do-The-Boys’.
‘Out on the floor fellow,’ said Farmer, without so much as raising his eyes from his attendance cards.

Clearly he thought I was testing his attentiveness and he was letting me know that he could listen to boys reciting history and maintain his Biarritz accounts at the same time. Either that or he had perhaps decided, on reflection, that I had talked my way too cleverly out of my earlier predicament. He treated my mispronunciation of ‘Dotheboys’ as a minor demeanour, however, and administered only one multiple of three! So my pal got the last laugh.

We all tried to be clever with Farmer but always lost. I remember another occasion a few months after the first one. We had all completed our preliminary school tests ahead of our national examination in history and Farmer was issuing the marked papers.

‘Has any fellow scored less than 50%?’ asked Farmer.
Given the quality of his teaching it was of course inevitable that several fellows had scored less than 50%.
‘Out on the floor fellows’, he said and they were all belted three times each for failing the exam.
‘Has any fellow scored more than 50%?’ asked Farmer.
Two or three guys had somehow managed to scrape 52 or 53%
‘Out on the floor fellows’, he said – and they were all belted for cheating!
Then he noticed that I had not appeared on the floor as yet.
‘Eh fellow’, he said, ‘why have you not been out on the floor?’ asked Farmer.
‘Well soor I scored exactly 50%’, said I.
‘Eh you are out on the floor now fellow’, said he.
And I got a multiple of three for being a smart ass!

I never did make it to Biarritz with Farmer but I am assured that it was not unknown for him to belt boys on the platform of Glasgow Central station for being late for the train to London or for not being turned out for their holiday trip in full school uniform. And in multiples of three.

Farmer was to continue on his idiosyncratic way for several years after I left school. Indeed he took over in the early 60s as head teacher of the Barony Annexe of St Mungo’s, a school that stood across from the Parson Street main building. The barony annexe was designed by Glasgow’s most famous architect, Charles Rennie Mackintosh and is now a museum, I think.
It was at that time, however, Farmers’ fiefdom. I recall a friend of mine, George Dunn, being sent to St Mungos’ Academy on a student placement when he was a trainee teacher round about 1966. Knowing nothing of the school, he was somewhat bemused when he reported to the office in the main building and was told to go across the street to the Barony annexe, mount the Scala Sancta (holy stairs) that led to the Sancta Sanctorum (the Holy of Holies), knock the door on the top landing and ask for the Mother Superior. He crossed over and, having had the Scala Sancta pointed out to him by a pupil, he climbed the steps and knocked on the door.

‘Come in’, said Farmer Kelly
In went George.
‘How can I help you’, said Farmer
‘I’m looking for the Mother Superior’, said my pal.
‘That is me’, said Farmer...

George was quite upset when I explained that if only he had gone up the Scala Sancta on his knees Farmer might have granted him a plenary indulgence for all his past sins.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 4th Sep 2010, 12:56am

Richard 2212 -- Right on the money with your account of the notorious 'Farmer' Kelly! The man was a veritable loon born way out of his century. One of my favorite memories of Farmer during my third year of incarceration at The Mungo ( 1969 - 70 ) was in the early days of 'Monty Python' - I will always have this unshakeable image of Farmer standing upon the threshold of his Barony Street domain, gawking in disbelief at a procession of young third-year kids performing a Python 'Silly Walk' display around the perimeter of the schoolyard and into the building itself - obviously Farmer had never beheld such off-the-wall behavior and at one point looked as if he would burst into tears ( or flames ). Anyone who ever saw Farmer in the flesh will remember that yap filled with bared, snaggled yellow teeth as he glared, slitty-eyed at the object of his immediate interest or in this case disdain but in this particular instance the snarl faded and was replaced by a look of absolute disbelief and perhaps a certain degree of uncertainty and fear that sanity had perhaps abandoned him -- welcome to the jungle... Personally ( despite the lunatic behavior of Farmer Kelly and a few of his neanderthal cohorts ) that Third Year at The Barony turned out to be great - an absolute blast.

Posted by: learlach 7th Sep 2010, 08:34am

I attended St Mungo’s in the 1960’s (3 years in Duke St. And 2 years in Parsons St.). When I read the various posts here, it brought back many memories indeed, but the sad thing is that there is a lot of negativity in these posts. Basically speaking, at any one time there must have been more than 100 teachers in the Mungo, with some coming and others going each year. As such the percentage of “bad teachers” was particularly low. I believe that the majority were good, with a small number of bad ones, more than out-numbered by the exceptional ones.

I would like to thank the exceptional teachers. In Duke St, we had Mr Finnegan (Maths), and Mr Palmer (Physics) as well as, a very young latin and history teacher (I cannot remember his name). In Parsons St, we had Mr O’Neill (English), a really knowledgeable teacher, and Mr Topping (French) even though his French accent was more Maryhill than MontMartre. In addition, we had a wonderful Chemistry teacher (I cannot remember his name) who always checked to ensure that everyone understood and I always got the impression that he actually wanted us to sort of challenge him. One of my class-mates, Ronnie Hill, was related to him – Ronnie, if you read this, please tell the Chemistry teacher he was doing a wonderful job.

In Parsons St, there was one other exceptional teacher, Brother David (Maths). In our class he tried to repair the damage done by McAloon.

I left after sitting my highers, finding a job rather than going to university. The words of Mr Topping to me summed up the attiutde of these teachers (and many more whom I did not encounter) “We have failled you”

If anybody knows any of these teachers (or family), please pass on my heart-felt thanks.

Posted by: CaltonBhoy1967 16th Sep 2010, 09:40pm

Was at St.Mungo's mid 1970's and loved it tbh.

Wiil go into my schooldays later - Meanwhile through some work I do on the History of Celtic I am still in touch with The Marist's from time to time.

Brother Gall died in 1997 - A Great Marist imo - He is buried back home in Athlone.

Bother David died he is buried in The Marist Cemetery at Mount St.Michael in Dumfries alongside Brother Stephen (his bioligical brother) and Brother Walfrid.

Big Willie McLaughlin sadly passed a few years ago - A cracking teacher and a Big Celtic Man - Cheers for getting me in under the bar re my Highers Big Man,

Brother Mungo had alzheimers and was in a bad way - He is at peace now.

Brother Justin died recently as well - Good teacher and he took the School First X1 which I played for back in the day.

Brother Adrian is still on the go - He was living down in Dumfries - Sadly since the 150th Anniversary dinner he has had a stroke and is now back in Glasgow for his care.

When Brother Cyril died in 2004 The Marists left Dumfries as they were getting elderly and Brother Cyril had been the Brother who was the most active and kept an eye out for the others.

Brother Allan moved back from Partickhill to Nithsdale Road to look after the Brothers residing there - Brother Colin is now in charge of Partckhill.

Have to admit I was quite gutted about the loss of Willie McLaughlin.

Have an old ipsi dixit kicking around - Will beback with my memories of the school,mates etc.

Cheers.

Posted by: jojax64 17th Sep 2010, 10:33am

Was a pupil from '67 - '70.
Started in an annexe of Royston Rd primary school (prep) and went to Duke St, Kennedy St, Parson St & Barony St. rolleyes.gif

Posted by: red rooster 19th Sep 2010, 05:20pm

Was also gutted to hear that big Willie McLaughlin had passed away, he was to the Mungo what Henrik was to the Celtic, one of the all time greats and totally irreplaceable.

Will be long rememberd by those lucky to have been taught by him.

Posted by: Mike Docherty 5th Oct 2010, 01:29am

Aaaaah, Third Year... Following the initial inspection and consequent humiliation of the longhaired 'Girly-Boys' by the notorious 'Farmer' Kelly, Headmaster and Fuhrer of The Barony we headed upstairs to our new residence on the top floor where we settled in for our Third Year of fun and games collectively known as 3E1. We were a mixed bag of Duke St / Kennedy St guys, reprobates and lovable rogues every one of us. I was accompanied by some old buddies from St Kent's - Eddie (Tony) Campbell, Big Jim McGregor and Michael Walsh - there was Geordie McKenzie with that super-cool leather coat of his, Gerry Reilly and Wullie ( King of the Comb-over ) Agnew. There were Danny Devenney and Peter Pearson who appeared to be joined at the hip and could damn near finish each other's sentences. Among the Kennedy St. contingent were Frank ( Higgy ) Higgins, Tommy Lydon and Jim ( Face ) McCarthy, all three from 'The Barracks' in the darkest depths of Maryhill if I recall correctly. There was a comedian named Finnegan, Ian Hadden and a kid who was a dead ringer for a young Steve McQueen but I'm damned if I can remember his name. There was also a kid named McCann who was as dumb as a box of rocks -- From Day One I called him 'Genghis' and for all I know he's still trying to figure out what it meant. There was a Kennedy St kid who was nicknamed 'Claw' as he had a disconcerting habit of constantly scratching his nuts. He used to work at The Barras on the weekends at the notorious 'Voodoo' stall ( How many out there remember that place ?) and would bring some of the most bizarre things into school - sacrificial daggers, shrunken heads - all that good stuff. Our Form teacher was the epitome of a Mama's Boy - Wee Tam and that's as much as I remember about his name. He had a chip on his shoulder because he was probably the shortest person in the class and often gave impromptu displays of how a tantrum should really be thrown. His outbursts often drew guffaws of laughter from the class and this would send him into a frenzy, trying to find out who the culprits were. He caught me laughing at him one time and dragged me out in front of the class to make an example of what would happen to anyone who gave him a hard time. 'Six of the Best' was to be the punishment for my heinous transgressions and he went about warming up by swinging his belt at a host of invisible foes. I had gone through a 'Belting Gone Bad' fiasco in Second Year thanks to a certain Math teacher named MacAloon at the Kent and having decided there would be no repetition of that particular debacle I informed Wee Tam that no such 'Six of the Best' would be taking place. The poor bugger was stunned stupid and he started spluttering and stammering which got the rest of the class giggling and the situation just snowballed from there. He wound up screaming to make himself heard over the howls of laughter and he finally stormed out of the room promising to bring down the wrath of Farmer Kelly upon our hirsute, 14 year-old heads. I must admit, the mention of 'Farmer' did take the humor out of the situation... When he didn't return by the End-of-Period bell we all buggered off to whatever class we were supposed to attend and when he did show up again he made no mention of the incident although it was rumored that Farmer, who didn't particularly care much for Wee Tam in the first place gave him a fierce bollocking for his inability to control a class of mere 'kids'. French lessons were dispensed courtesy of 'Flapper', a deathly pale, stick-thin lofty guy with lank jet-black hair and enormous thick glasses. There was also another French teacher who occasionally filled in - Mr. Lange or 'Big Eddie', an enormous Frenchman with a huge DeGaulle-esque nose who, later in the year turned out to be a total lunatic, much to his own detriment. Our English teacher was excellent - a guy in his late 20s or early 30s named Boyle. He treated Science Fiction as a legitimate genre of literature and would have us actually act out Shakespeare plays rather than recite them like a roomful of parrots. Our Math teacher was a Mr Farrell. I don't think he ever showed up on time for a class but you always knew of his approach because you could smell the reek of booze wafting up the stairwell as he staggered and stumbled his way up those three flights. 3E1 was designated an 'Art Specialists' Class' and to make way for those additional periods of Art Science was dropped, I was bad at Geography but even worse at History so the latter got the heave. Art lessons were dealt out by a group of different teachers - a Mr. Reid who looked like George Orwell, a twitchy, mustachioed fellow called McAllister (The 'Mouse' Man) plus Messrs Buchanan and Byrne from St Kent's. There was also a pain-in-the-ass Art Teacher from the North of England who always seemed angry about something or other - wore little round granny glasses, had curly hair and a big gunslinger's mustache that swooped round into an enormous set of 'Buggers' Grips' sideburns. Kinda resembled comedian Mike Harding ( The Rochdale Cowboy ) who used to pollute our TV screens in the mid-70s. Please feel free to jump in with any info re' names of teachers, students, whatever. The Barony was definitely a blast of fresh air after the constipated atmosphere that pervaded St Kent's and after a mere two or three days in my new digs I actually started to (dare I say it) look forward to going to school every morning...?

Posted by: The Duke of Drumchapel 5th Oct 2010, 11:23am

some of the old FPA Magazines from 1964 to 1967

http://www.flickr.com/photos/robertpool/sets/72157625099891038/detail/

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 6th Oct 2010, 07:19am

Thanks for the link Robert. I've passed it onto a colleague who knows a group of SMA FP's who meet occasionally in the Doublet. They're from that era.


Mike Do you normally work with a sub editor? I'm not asking for speech balloons but a paragraph or two or at least the occasional line break would be helpful.

Posted by: jojax64 6th Oct 2010, 07:49am

Hi Mike,

I was lucky enough to avoid that utter bawbag McAloon at St. Kent's. Nowadays, his likes would be serving time in Barlinnie.
He walked in to our class (1D) one day, carrying a large jeely-jar full of heavy door keys. The guy sitting on my immediate left commited the crime of talking to his mate, and McAloon's response was to smack said jar into the guy's face. Burst his nose wide open, it was easily the most violent act I ever witnessed upon another person.
Nothing was ever said about it, it was just as if it never happened. I will never forget that day, and I'm only too grateful that I never suffered at the hands of that violent lunatic. huh.gif

Posted by: Michael Docherty 6th Oct 2010, 09:58pm

In response to jojax64 - Where Math teacher McAloon was concerned he was indeed a bit of a loose cannon, a veritable loon or perhaps 'Son of a Loon' as his name would suggest. He was definitely a Jekyll / Hyde type. He was one of the teachers who accompanied us on the school trip to Italy and Switzerland in the Summer of 68 and he was great! You couldn't hope to meet a nicer guy but the moment he donned his 'Teacher' disguise you couldn't help but wonder if the 'school' version was some kind of evil twin. And in response to Dexter - Sure, Dexter, anything for you. From this day forward I will indeed go out of my way and make an effort to dumb things down for you if it will make it more palatable. Just remember, if you're whingeing at me it means you're leaving someone else alone.

Posted by: learlach 17th Nov 2010, 04:38pm

 McAlloon.doc ( 25.5K )

 McAlloon.doc ( 25.5K )
 

Posted by: learlach 17th Nov 2010, 04:41pm

Sorry I got a bit confused earlier on - this is how it should have read.

JoJax, I agree with you about violence and putting the perpetrators behind bars but I must admit to being disappointed in McAloon when I read about the violence – I did not think that he was so stupid. I never remember McAloon as being violent in 1964, only sarcastic, prone to humiliate pupils, in reality bullying – I Suppose that he just moved from being a verbal bully to a physical one

I will never forget when Brother Adrian, head of Maths, visited us at St. Kents. McAloon was telling us all week that Brother Adrian was coming to check us out. Now I realise that Brother Adrian’s visit had more to do with checking out McAloon’s performance.

I remember in form class he once told us that the previous year a 6th year student had been sent to help him in Duke St. He told the story that the lesson for 1st years would be about manually calculating square roots. The 6th year student talked about doing it via logs and McAloon took great pleasure in telling us that he put him in his place, by telling him that they had not learned about logs etc.. In addition he was very sarcastic about new maths (we are getting mecanno sets).

I believe that he was an instructor (he taught pupils how to do things) rather than a teacher (who should explain why). Teachers broaden horizons. Question for all “Could any of us see McAloon teaching 5th and 6th years?”. St Kents 3rd year was the limit of his abilities as an instructor. I believe that McAloon became frustrated.

All I can say is that I am very grateful to have had a good maths teacher before him (Mr Finnegan) and a real teacher after him (Brother David).

Last year I saw on the television the then Speaker of the House of Commons, Michael Martin, talking down to an MP (Kate Hoey). At the time I kept thinking “I know the voice and the style” and I could not remember whom – I now realise that it was vintage McAloon.

Posted by: MGD 23rd Nov 2010, 04:44am

QUOTE (eddiebhoy67 @ 6th Jun 2008, 12:13pm) *
To Big Arturo
Yes. However many laughs we might have now the reality at the time was often very bad.
I see McConville's name mentioned at the Kent, and I will never forget that man and his cruelty as long as I live. And Brother Aiden. He taught geography. He would arrive in class. Talk unfathomable rubbish and then mention that he had just dropped pearls before the swine. Some boys would write things down but I never had a clue what he was on about. I believe these pearls were answers to future exam questions. I got 25% for geography.
Music teacher in the attic ? I remember a very tall thin man called Drack. He pulled all the curtains one day and sat in the dark at the piano. We could just make out his outline against the curtains as he sat playing the Death March. He also had us all singing " Faith of our Fathers " in a lusty fashion then suddenly stopped and made us examine every word and sentence in detail. He then invited all those who wanted to die for their faith to join him in another chorus. There was silence. And one to one interviews with Brother Alexius ? With the door locked and engaged light on outside. And questions about whether your father spanked you. And with what ? And with or without ? ( Trousers ) That was pretty hairy. And " Daddy Kelly." He taught science. At least that was the rumour. He found out that I had been caught " dogging school." Hands up. I just gave up. I just wanted to avoid the Savages and McConvilles until I was old enough to leave. But I was caught and had to have a card signed every lesson to prove I was there. Daddy called me out to his desk. His stomach was so big he used to lift it up with both hands and prop it on the desk. He was short with a little grey moustach. " You know what I think of you?" he said. He then spat on the floor. He then ignored me for the rest of the term. He gave me no work. I was handed no equipment in the lab. I was 14. And O'Hanlon. A bald headed maths teacher who wrote sums on the board calling out, " Who sees it, boys ?" "Who sees it ?" We all nodded that we could see it and he smiled. Then he would point at someone and say, " OK. You can see it. Tell us then. Tell us the answer." The smile would go. The voice would rise and become shrill. " You then?" "Or you?" And then the belt would appear and we would all be flogged. The whole class was often done for not " seeing it." He went through exam papers once with the class and belted everyone who had scored less than 80%. And he had a lousy aim so you often caught the tails on your wrists and the red weals would sting for ages afterwards. I am reliably informed that one of our number became Lord Advocate in Canada. He must have had private lessons oin the side surely ?


Posted by: lord anthony 26th Nov 2010, 03:57am

Nostagie de la boue



Origin: Fr, lit., nostalgia or longing for the mud. The expression came from stunned French people listening to old soldiers endlessly yacking about the good old days in the Great War trenches when they all had dysentery and hadn't changed socks for two years but mon dieu, how they loved sharing camaraderie and cigarettes.

Patent False Memory. It was hell, but they remember it otherwise and many of your correspondents manifest similar delusions.

Having survived six years of this hellish Catholic institution in the 1950s I can well understand the Simon Wiesenthal mentality. All of the monsters lyricised or played-down in your posts are dead and gone but if I meet them again in eternity...... what goes around comes around.

No forgiveness. I will whack them back in full measure.

Some of the Marists were not only superb educators but inspirational to young minds in formative mode. It is sad to see religious orders currently being brought into disrepute when the perverts and psychopaths in my early years were mostly lay-teachers.

If it was recent war-service or distorted sexual orientation that made them so cruel, what the hell were they doing in classrooms?

Has a class-action lawsuit ever been considered?

Let me know.


Posted by: BigArturo1 29th Nov 2010, 02:31pm

Mon liege Antoine,

As I mentioned in my original posting 3 years ago, I had some happy memories of The Mungo - it was not all pervs and psychos although I did encounter the odd one or two. Maybe as I attended a decade after yourself, there were less WW2 veterans masquerading as teachers in the 1960's.
Having raised two children myself and just survived their teenage years with sanity intact, it can't have been easy to keep a couple of hundred testosterone fuelled teenage boys under control. The more enlightened teachers managed it no problem - Jimmy Byrne, Willie McLaughlan etc.. - but it obviously proved too much for some judging by some of the postings on this site.
I take it the "time heals all wounds" maxim does not apply in your case which suggests you, like most of the posters, had some experiences with some bampot teachers. It's been over 40 years since I attended the school and can look back in amusement at some of the antics posted on the site and can empathise with many of the pupils who suffered at the hand of certain teachers. It's funny now but certainly was not at the time being belted for being late / blunt pencil point / wrong answer in class etc..
I agree some posters have a dew-eyed take on their time at SMA which I certainly did not recognise when I attended.
Stay cool and go easy on the lawsuit !

Posted by: DANNY CURLEY 2nd Dec 2010, 08:20pm

QUOTE (Duck @ 12th Mar 2009, 09:40am) *
There have been many posts reminiscing about teachers at the school. How mant names can be put to faces here? Staff photograph from 1957-58 though I can spot many who were still about well into the 70's



Posted by: Mike Docherty 6th Dec 2010, 06:38am

Re Lord Anthony's posting -- If you do come into contact with them, feel free to give the bastards a few 'dull yins' for me while you're at it. Your 'Nostalgie de la boue' was right on the money - some of the crap spouted by fellow Ex-Mungoloids in their warped accounts of the times we shared at that bastion of higher learning sometimes left me wondering if they were ever there in the first place.
We got through it in one piece despite the majority of the Mungo's faculty rather than because of it. So many of those teachers would've been more suited to running gladiator schools or professions requiring a bucket and mop.
There were exceptions to the rule, mostly among the younger teachers - guys like Big Wullie McLaughlin were pure gold, but unfortunately they were also few and far between. They were examples of the new wave of educators and there was a tangible air of disdain aimed at them from most of the older teachers whose only future involved a one-way trip to the glue factory or as an exhibit in a dusty corner of some museum.
For me personally, I hated the place a lot less once I was old enough that I could have walked any time I felt like it. That, coupled with the fact that the atmosphere was so totally different when we got away from the 'Tom Brown' mentality of St. Kent's and made the move to Barony St.
I don't doubt the times had a lot to do with it too - it was August of 1969 and my generation of (almost) 14 year-olds were the soon-to-be 'F#&k You' generation of kids who would take the stuffy, Victorian mentality of the establishment - school-related and otherwise - a lot less seriously.
Even though it did indeed 'suck' a great deal of the time, nostalgia does paint a rosier picture. From 3rd Year onwards I had a blast - I wouldn't recommend it to anyone and I still wish a miserable eternity in Hell to a lot of those dickhead teachers. Who said 'Nostalgia ain't what it used to be' ?
Merry Christmas to my fellow Mungoloids.
Even Dexter...

Posted by: alybainfan 6th Dec 2010, 11:40pm

My father was a pupil at St Mungos', although I'm not sure what years he was there.

He was born in 1926, and I know he left school at 14 which would have been around 1940, so would he have gone there as an infant or as an 11 year old in those days, does anyone know?

Posted by: glasgow lass 7th Dec 2010, 01:06am

QUOTE (jojax64 @ 6th Oct 2010, 07:35am) *
Hi Mike,

I was lucky enough to avoid that utter bawbag McAloon at St. Kent's. Nowadays, his likes would be serving time in Barlinnie.
He walked in to our class (1D) one day, carrying a large jeely-jar full of heavy door keys. The guy sitting on my immediate left commited the crime of talking to his mate, and McAloon's response was to smack said jar into the guy's face. Burst his nose wide open, it was easily the most violent act I ever witnessed upon another person.
Nothing was ever said about it, it was just as if it never happened. I will never forget that day, and I'm only too grateful that I never suffered at the hands of that violent lunatic. huh.gif

What the hell got into teachers in those days, who gave them the right to be so cruel. Im here shaking my head and saying to myself, this cant be true. I know too well it is tho, so disgusting.

Posted by: lord anthony 8th Dec 2010, 01:27am

That little psycho who strapped latecomers in Parson St., it didn't matter if your mother had just died, it all went down in his highly-detailed ledger as he got off on really hurting little boys with frozen hands. The process took ages. He liked that part too.

I had to travel from the east end each school-day and used to dread Wednesdays because of the old cattle-market which could shut down Duke St or slow it to a crawl. Even if I took two buses earlier I could still be late, a guarantee that his strap would rise and fall.

He was, incidentally, paid as a vice-principal.

My self-administered therapy: imagine paying a crim to break into his house one night, tie him naked to his bed and really let him have it with his beloved lochgelly.

and..... when he leaves, call police, the archbishop and the Daily Record.

Heres where it gets good.
Before leaving, my contractor must scatter the room with gay-***IGNORED WORDS*** mags.



Hope this helps!

Posted by: Mike Docherty 8th Dec 2010, 02:50am

Hey, Glasgow Lass - Regarding all those ( alleged ) Dark-Age atrocities perpetrated upon our delicate, impressionable minds way back then -- 'Alleged', my ass - I'm pretty sure the times we were living in had a lot to do with it - it was the late 60s, a more permissive time in every sense of the word, where the new generations of schoolkids were nowhere near as socially constipated as the poor schmucks the school system was used to ( Hey - we were busy gettin' our 'Freak' on, Man !!! ). Unfortunately many of those sorry bastards masquerading as teachers were from a generation who went through a war (some of them their second war ) and it obviously left some unattractive blemishes on their collective psyche ( still no excuse for their subsequent questionable behavior ) but then there were the ones who were obviously somewhat f^#ked-up in the head to begin with.
I think McAloon was one who fell through the cracks into this category. He had the ability to switch from a perfectly rational individual one moment to a slobbering, red-eyed nutjob the next, set off by the slightest transgression - at best his response was a snarling tirade. At worst a raging, violent tantrum as previously documented by former victims.
There were guys like our Beloved 'Eddie Onion', the scourge of St. Kent's who was one of the cruelest, craziest bastards I ever encountered ( - I know whereof I speak when it comes to 'Crazy' - I have lived in Los Angeles for the best part of 30 years and believe me, in this town one could not throw a rock without hitting some kind of deranged mentalcase ).
I had an interest in languages and as a result I was able to stay under the dreaded Mr. McConville's radar -- McConville was a very 'by-the-book' teacher of Latin and fortunately for me he found my scholastic endeavors acceptable enough that he ignored me. No complaints here considering the wrath he would unleash upon those unfortunate enough to live up to his expectations. I saw him backhand perceived 'underachievers' two or three times across the face but the ones who really pissed him off were subjected to additional serious physical battering before being dragged out of the room by the hair ( -I kid you not - ) and dumped upon the doorstep of the Headmaster's office for further punishment. Considering our Headmaster at that time (1967) was Brother Alexis, ( someone who, in the words of 'Farmer Kelly' was a 'Horrible Feelo-Grabber' ) the mind boggles at what form of warped direction that particular punishment may have taken.
These guys were only names on a list of, in the words of Billy Connolly, ' Loonies who've never been caught '. I'm sure they were not the worst - give me a minute or three and I may up-date that - but I am also sure they were much worse than it should've been.
Occasionally these tales of schoolday experiences will come up in conversation with my Colonial Brethren and most of them regard it as absolute bollocks ( except for the ones who attended Catholic Schools in the States ). Then I make the mistake of trying to explain what a 'Television License' is and I realize they don't believe a single word I've ever told them...

Posted by: Guest 14th Feb 2011, 04:56pm

Hi was at st mungos from 60 to 65 Kennedy Street then Barony Street, remember those teachers well Farmer Kelly used to send you home if you forgot your tie great way to get a day off. Thanks for memories.

Posted by: boxer180 30th Mar 2011, 10:52pm

Hello, I have really enjoyed all these postings about life at St Mungos Academy a long time ago, especially the ones which have paragraphs and some breaks. They are much easier to read for this old codger.

I went there from 1962 to 1965, arriving there from the wee rock where I did really well at school. I arrived at the mungo, very naive, but looking forward to going to one of the top schools in Glasgow. The first day we arrived at Duke Street, but all the boys from my part of the world ie. Garngad, Barmulloch, Blackhill were all shipped up to Kennedy Street. After two years there it was off to Barony Street.

All in all it was a terrible three years. I was happy to escape to Canada in 1965 where I got a better education, a lot more humane, and went on to graduate from the University of Toronto.

The only thing I took from the Mungo was entertainment and a lot of life lessons.

There were some horrible teachers and headmasters. I dont have anything to add about Farmer Kelly. It has all been said. If I was ever late, I just waited round the corner for half an hour until he opened up all the doors again and sneaked up to my class and tell the teacher that Farmer Kelly had already taken care of me.

Chips Rafferty, for the record, was a wonderful man and a great headmaster. If he had any fault, it would only be that he effectively let a lot of sadists and bad teachers operate. In retrospect, there probably was not a lot he could do.

Mr. Savage was a strange man, and I know his son has said that he had a tough life, so I will leave it at that. Mr. Benison and Mr. Burton (Abdul) were good French teachers, and I enjoyed them on a great trip to Brussels with the Kennedy St annex in the early sixties.

Big Shuggie was a nightmare and had no idea how to teach. He copied huge passages of Shakespeare on to the board, and you copied them into your jotter. There was no interaction between him and the class.

Brickley was tough but fair and tried his best when he wasnt dancing with the White Heather Club.

Mr. Burke was a gentleman and a scholar and told us a lot about his beloved Celtic. He very rarely used the strap, and did not even own one. Sady he had a hard life as whilst I was in first year, his son committed suicide. That must have been awfull for him.

Cecil was right out of an assylum. He once grabbed me by the shoulders and kept strapping me until I yanked my hand away and headed back to my seat. Guess there was no pysch testing in those days. Another nutbar was the guy who went to Celtic games with Mr. Burke and that was Mr. Meighan, who once belted me for looking up at him while he was belting another boy.

I once got belted by Bowman for being caught uttering the nasal twang when he fired around and caught me. For once it was deserved.

Others have talked about the wonderful stories of Mc Lellan , who once fell out of an aircraft and it looped around and caught hm. You did not want to be sitting in front of Jonah Johnstone who spat out more water than my beloved Niagara Falls.

Toby Tyler was a quirky little guy who taught French. Wee Daddy Kelly was a strange wee man and no relation to Farmer. Mr Pacitti was a good and fair geography teacher who owned a cafe on Cumbernauld Road. Mr. Capanni was a good math teacher who spoke with an unfortunate lisp.

Any old friends out here ie. Terry Burke, Joe Kennedy, Jim Horan and the likes.

Good luck to other old mungolites.

Posted by: boxer180 31st Mar 2011, 12:04am

Big Arturo, do we know each other. We had the exact same teachers at the wee rock and the mungo.

I too had Martin Craig in my class at the wee rock in the class of Mr. Mc Cambridge, and I also went with you to Campbelltown and Fraserburgh.

You can send me an email if you want.

I now live in Toronto, Canada.

Posted by: wee davy 31st Mar 2011, 08:19am

Hi boxer - you have a great memory - obviously looked after the grey matter reasonably well. If ma granny hud let me, ah wid huv followed ye tae Canada, a year later!

I recall MOST of the teachers names (in fact nearly ALL) you mention. Some with trepidation - but I concur with your assessment of Mr Rafferty.

I went to Kennedy St from 64, the Duke St, then Parson St. Unfortunately, in 67', I went on holiday to Nottingham - and didn't really go back! When I did - I was working in the 'toon', when Mr McLennan (it would be classed as an assault, these days lol) picked me up by my lapels - and gave me a RIGHT shiriken "I had a lot of hopes for you, ya wee eejit". rolleyes.gif

I have seen a fair bit of your country (including having a spell, in the RAF up in Labrador), and if things had have worked out differently - I would've been proud to have been a Canook!

Welcome tae the boards

wee davy

Posted by: ionnsaigh 31st Mar 2011, 11:11am

I remember the boys dreepin out the window, and on to the roof of the midden, escaping with the roar of an angry brother ringing out, this in our back court in Martyr St, in the late Fifties. Our window looked directly on to the stained glass portrait of St Mungo. ( I often wonder what happend to it )
Apparently as a baby, I would stare at the window for hours on end, my Mother would say, that's St Mungo.. resulting in my first word being, Saint. Unfortunately I failed my 11plus so never had the chance to see the window from the other side. sad.gif

Posted by: boxer180 31st Mar 2011, 02:25pm

Cheers for the welcome, davy. I posted on the Garngad thread, as I have a lot of good memories there. When I discovered this board and thread yesterday it was like a wee window into a time in my life I had forgotten about for a long time.

Glad you enjoyed Canada. It was the best thing that happened to me. If I had stayed in Scotland I would have lef the Mungo when I was 15 and probably ended up god knows where. Glad you made it to something decent like the RAF. I love to visit Scotland every second year or so to see family and Celtic, but Canada is my home now and I like it.

Posted by: wee davy 31st Mar 2011, 04:21pm

QUOTE (ionnsaigh @ 31st Mar 2011, 11:28am) *
I remember the boys dreepin out the window, and on to the roof of the midden, escaping with the roar of an angry brother ringing out, this in our back court in Martyr St, in the late Fifties. Our window looked directly on to the stained glass portrait of St Mungo. ( I often wonder what happend to it )
Apparently as a baby, I would stare at the window for hours on end, my Mother would say, that's St Mungo.. resulting in my first word being, Saint. Unfortunately I failed my 11plus so never had the chance to see the window from the other side. sad.gif


I believe that particular stained glass portrait may have survived - but I'm sure someone will put us right.
If youve read all of this thread, ionnsaigh, many would say you goat aff, wi good behaviour lol wink.gif

Need to get on,... got a deadline to meet!

Posted by: ionnsaigh 1st Apr 2011, 10:04am

I hope your right about it surviving wee davy, ( ye cannae be wrang at everything ) wink.gif

Aye, I think your right enough about getting off with good behaviour.. Personally I blame the destruction of Toonheid for my learning difficulty and failing the 11 plus. The Academy may have been a hard place, but the Roch was a rock.. ( caught between )

I was wondering if you would like some help, increasing your fan base. rolleyes.gif

Posted by: wee davy 1st Apr 2011, 11:04am

Thats very kind ai ye, ionnsaugh.
If I ever do a 'justin Bieber' you can look efter ma website! lol tongue.gif

Wan ai the best wan's ah'v come across, is The Big Yin's - often wondered if he diz it imsel. Worth a look, if you haven't been.
!
Regards that window, I'm sure I read it was installed somewhere's else. I will do a bit ai diggin' fur ye. Man on a mission DANGER Clear the decks -coming through!

Posted by: *BigArturo* 11th Apr 2011, 02:21pm

Hi Boxer,

I will contact you by e-mail once I master this site which I have used for years but for some reason won't recognise my login or password. Got to be one of the most user unfriendly sites I've come across to go from regular poster to persona non grata !

Posted by: John McKenna 15th Jun 2011, 06:49pm

QUOTE (Duck @ 31st Dec 2008, 10:43am) *
Quite right Kentigern- I did know his name was Cyril. Why did I write Sylvester? Could that have been his nickname, I wonder? And of course, everybody remembers Mr Buchanan!!!
Happy New Year!!

Duck,
You're right, Sylvester was a nickname as in "Sylie Burke". I was taught by your father in Barony Street a true gent strict but very fair.

Posted by: Heather Mcguire 25th Jun 2011, 08:14pm

Hello everyone
I believe my dad went to st mungos in Glasgow. his name was John Charles McGuire. I found a picture of a 1949 class. He was 9 years old then. Was just wondering if anyone had any memories of that time? He was also in the Boys Brigade.

Posted by: Terry Burke 11th Aug 2011, 08:11am

Terry Burke here. I was in Parson Street from 1950 until 1955 when I left for St Andrews University. I have not really come across any postings from "paleolithics" like myself who were there in the 1950's. Most of the postings are from the 1960's onwards. Just in case any of the paleolithic brigade happen to come across this I'll give a thumb-nail of by subsequent history. After graduating in Medicine at St.Andrews and working in local hospitals I went out to the Far East to work in Singapore and Hong Kong. I finally retired in 2001 and returned from the Far East to Scotland and am now living in rural Aberdeenshire.

Reading through the posts I realise that kids nowadays simply could not believe what we lived through. There is no doubt that there were a few teachers who were definitely on the wrong side of eccentricity and were probably badly in need of mental health treatment. A few were bullies and some fewer still sociopaths with sadistic interests. But the majority of teachers were decent spuds who by and large did a damned fine job. Brother Clare, headmaster at Parson Street in particular was both a saint and a gentleman. I came from a single parent family (not so common in those days) and I remember he would sometimes send money from his own family fortune home to my mother to help us out. I would like to put this on record here as a tribute to Brother Clare's generosity and goodness. He must also have given me a damned good "write-up" when I applied to get into St.Andrews because until this day I still cannot understand how or why I was accepted. I owe everything to St.Mungo's and I am proud that I went there. I would love to hear from any of my old class-mates if they happen to read this. You can easily contact me through these Boards. All the best to everybody, Terry Burke.

Posted by: wee davy 11th Aug 2011, 10:29am

Welcome to the boards paleolithic Terry! smile.gif Only an ex St Andrews graduate would introduce themselves in such eloquent terms lol

I believe the reason for a dearth of ex 50's pupils probably has as much to do with sheer demographics and techno aversion, as much as anything.

I think you'll find 99% of those who subscribe to St Mungo threads, are just as much proud of their roots as you are. They very often simply describe their experiences in an honest, and sometimes very graphic manner.

However, I can assure you, that in MY experience, much of what you read in here, is pretty much accurate, from what I have read.

Some of it may be a bit unpalatable - but all the same, its a story which has to be told.

Look forward to your contributions.

Regards, davy

Posted by: Terry Burke 11th Aug 2011, 12:32pm

Hello Davy, and many thanks for your reply. I completely agree with you. Even at the tender age of 12 it struck me as totally unjust, as well as at odds with what they taught us in the R.K. Period, that an entire class should be belted because one person would speak in class and not own up. There was one Marist in particular, Brother Malcolm, who was prone to this. He looked so meek and mild, but could be quite nasty underneath. Farmer Kelly was just as much a nut case in my time (he really needed help!) but the one who stands out as just plain sadistic and vicious was Mr Barry, Chemistry teacher and Deputy Head. You know I wonder what would have happened if we had stood up to them? Probably have been transported in chains to Australia or something. But in those days it never just crossed your mind even to consider standing up to them even if something really was unjust. Authority had spoken and that was that. If teachers nowadays tried it on like them there would be standing room only in Barlinnie. Once again if any old paleolithics read this, I'd love to hear from you. Best wishes to all, Terry Burke.

Posted by: wee davy 11th Aug 2011, 01:58pm

Aye, Farmer Kelly was a legend in his own bathtime, Terry.

There are many references to him - in fact the board is littered with them! lol
He always both looked, and acted as if he wiz oan day release frae an asylum
jist doon the road. ohmy.gif

btw if you want to get in touch with people of your own era, the main ex pupils association is literally littered with them. They have a very thriving membership, and celebrated the 150th Anniversary recently, with gusto.
(Sadly, I wasn't fit enough to attend).

Posted by: Terry Burke 11th Aug 2011, 05:05pm

QUOTE (wee davy @ 11th Aug 2011, 03:44pm) *
Aye, Farmer Kelly was a legend in his own bathtime, Terry.

There are many references to him - in fact the board is littered with them! lol
He always both looked, and acted as if he wiz oan day release frae an asylum
jist doon the road. ohmy.gif

btw if you want to get in touch with people of your own era, the main ex pupils association is literally littered with them. They have a very thriving membership, and celebrated the 150th Anniversary recently, with gusto.
(Sadly, I wasn't fit enough to attend).


Posted by: Terry Burke 11th Aug 2011, 05:15pm

Hello, Davy, it's me Terry again. I googled the St Mungo's Academy Former Pupils Association without success, and even looked up St Mungo's website but again no luck. Do they have a web address do you know? Mind you I'm not that often in Glasgow. I live near Banff and it is nearly a 4 hours drive to Glasgow, or alternatively by train which costs a bomb nowadays. Incidentally though if you do come across any 1950-55 troglodytes do please give me a buzz and remind me to them.
All the best, Terry.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 17th Aug 2011, 08:44pm

Join Friends ReUnited and contact Brian O'Neill, My friend attends the reunions and there are certainly FPs from your era and before.

Posted by: Glasgow Girl 17th Aug 2011, 11:48pm

Gosh there's a name from the past! Brian O'Neill.

Posted by: boxer180 23rd Aug 2011, 03:58am

Keep up the postings on the Mungo. Terry Burke, do you have another relative called Terry Burke. He was a classmate of mine at the mungo, bit younger than yourself though. Cheers.

Posted by: Terry Burke 23rd Aug 2011, 07:10am

I honestly don't know of another younger Terry Burke, but it would not surprise me. They are both fairly common Irish names and certainly I have come across quite a few other Terry Burke's in other contexts. There was even another academic Terry Burke in Singapore where I lived and worked for many years.

Posted by: boxer180 8th Sep 2011, 07:45pm

Thanks Terry.

Some other Mungo memories. Does anyone remember a bad tempered gym teacher Mr. Graham. He used to punch you with with a bid medicine ball.

Other good teachers a very fair Mr. Bunny Mc Farlane, a polite well mannered teacher, who put the fear of god into me by asking me to public speak, a thing I still struggle with today.

Abdul Burton was a good French teacher. Sorry for the nickname that would not be tolerated in 2011.

One lasting memory is Chips Rafferty letting the school out early when the pipes burst at Kennedy St. Those were happy days.

Anyway good luck to all former Mungo pupils. Hope you all did well in later life and went on to better days.

I have visitied the Martyrs Museum, and I got a chill down the spine thinking of old Farmer Kelly and his horrible clothes and his belt. Thank god I never went to Birarrittz. Imagine taking a belt on a holiday. I went with Mr. Benison and Mr. Burton to Brusells and for a wee bhoy from Glasgow, who had never been further than Campbelltown, with the wee rock, the continent was a delight, especially since even at 14 years old, we were allowed to drink beer.

Happy interlude indeed.

Posted by: Terry Burke 9th Sep 2011, 10:58am

QUOTE (Duck @ 12th Mar 2009, 11:40am) *
There have been many posts reminiscing about teachers at the school. How mant names can be put to faces here? Staff photograph from 1957-58 though I can spot many who were still about well into the 70's

Yes, I remember a horrible nasty gym teacher called Mr Graham at Parson Street. He went about with a perpetual sneer and I don't think I ever saw him smiling, let alone laughing. I wonder if we are talking about the same person because this was in the early 50's and he must have been about 40-45 at that time. I loathed this man. Have a look at the 1957-58 staff picture on page 8. Mr Graham is in the second front row, 5th from the right standing next to "Wee Geoff" Thompson the Science teacher on his left and immediately behind Brother David. Surprisingly he is smiling in this picture. Looking back, I think that he must have been a deeply unhappy man for some reason. There was a second gym teacher whose name I cannot recall. He was much younger, shorter, and a real decent spud. I liked him very much. In fact he was the person who in initially suggested to me that I should seriously think of going on to the university to do Medicine. I had thought that I would become a medical lab technician. You could say that he changed the entire course of my life. Unfortunately he is not in the page 8 staff picture. Gosh it is all so long ago!

Posted by: Terry Burke 9th Sep 2011, 01:55pm

Isn't human memory a wonderful thing? About 4 hours after writing the above post I was quietly sitting feeding one of the cats. I was not thinking of anything in particular when suddenly the name of that second gym teacher I mentioned came flooding into my mind. His name was Jacky Coogan. Does anyone else remember him? It is amazing. I have not thought of his name for nearly 60 years!

Posted by: Terry Burke 9th Sep 2011, 02:04pm

While that staff picture is still showing on this page, can anyone else remember Mr John Gilroy, Chemistry teacher whose lab was "the Dookit" overlying that entrance tunnel at Parson Street? He is in the back row, 5th left, a young tall slim guy with glasses. I know that quite a few people did not care for him, but I liked him a lot. He was very helpful to me during my last year at school before going on to university. Does anybody know what happened to him?

Posted by: boxer180 10th Sep 2011, 04:18am

I am sure it is the same Mr. Graham, a horrible man, and by the time we got him, he was in his 50s or 60s. You wonder what it took to get fired in those days.

Glad you had another gym teacher that you liked much better.

Posted by: Terry Burke 10th Sep 2011, 11:43am

Hello again, Boxer 180. Yes, he was really a horrible man. God forgive me for saying this, but I think he is probably the most unpleasant man I have ever met. Besides loathing him I was also very scared of him because there was definitely something sinister about him. Confession time! I used to sometimes "play hooky" from the gym sessions because I was scared of him. Surprisingly I never got caught. Those cloakrooms in the side corridors on the 2nd and 3rd floors beside the classrooms were pretty good places for hiding out. I hated the gym so much because of that man that it cast a very dark shadow over my whole time at Parson Street, because I loved every other class except his. The trouble was in those days there was nobody to confide in. I was not very good at jumping over that stupid "apparatus" and he ridiculed me in front of the rest of the class. That is something which is completely,or should be completely, "no-go" for a teacher to humiliate a pupil, let alone publicly. Nowadays I suppose you could go to the pastoral or counselling teacher in confidence, but nothing like that in those days. Like yourself I cannot understand how some of them got away with it. I can only assume that Brother Clare did not know what was going on although he should have. By the way, there is an excellent site at Friends Reunited with a St Mungo's Academy page and lots of photos. You should have a look.

Posted by: mcfergus 24th Sep 2011, 12:08am

Arrived on this site purely by accident.I was brought up in Barrowfield (now demolished)-St Annes school(demolished & rebuilt) till '53 then the Mungo(demolished relocated & rebuilt right next door to St Annes) '53 to'59. How the world of my boyhhod has shrunk.
I remember St Annes with fondnest-great teachers like Misses Shields,McGrorie & Baird among others.Classmates included Mikey Campbell,Hugh McCabe,Martin Welsh,Margaret Ann Kerr,Maureen Ferrie andMargaret Turner as well as some whose names don't quite match up.The head Mr McConnel was an obvously military man but displayed no sign of anything other than care for his pupils.I can honestly say that it was a good catholic school.
In direct contrast St Mungos was an eye opener.This is not to say that I was unhappy there,in fact I enjoyed most of it.I was in St Kents for one year but can't say much of note took place Teachers I remember were Bro Conrad (Head) Mr Bennet (English) Mr Love(Latin) but as I said nothing remarkable.
I then went to Parson St and fell foul of a certain Joe Barrie.I used to have to take my younger brothers to school(St Annes) and day nursery near Bridgeton Cross before running the rest of the way to my school.St Kents was reasonably close and did not pose too much of a problem but Parson St was "a bridge too far" and I frequently found myself in the punishment line. Mr Barries rationale was that he did not want latecomers interrupting classes which had already started-all very laudable.It did not give him the right to treat children in a manner reminiscent of some of the scenes depicted in the stories of ex prisoners-of-war. I suffered this through my first winter but it came to a head when as punishment he gave me the task of writing an essay detailing "Why my shoes should be well polished" I remember him saying that he should be able to see his face in them so I made a point of including that in the essay.I also pointed out how fortunate he was that I could not comply since the shoes in question had holes in them with lino insoles which did nothing to protect my feet from the sludge and puddles he made me stand in and as a consequence could not ever be polished to his standard.This "Insolence"got me sent home.It also got my dad up to the school where he slapped the offending footwear down on Bro Clares desk and delivered a few well chosen words about wee Joes future conduct. I never stood in the lineup again.instead whenever I was late I was sent to the Farmers lab which was usually empty first period.Iwas lucky in that I had very little to do with Farmer not to say that I did not witness some of his eccentric behaviour.I seem to remember that he favoured a suggestion by one of my classmates (Paul? Duffy) that his name was connected to Kellogg(as in cornflakes) resulting in a long running period of even more ridiculous posturing than usual.
In third year we had as form teacher a Frank? McGee.(I am fairly sure he was not the Magoo already posted) I remember one day being sent out of class for some trivial remark and as I passed him he swiped me across the backside with his well used tawse.I reacted with unusual violence for me and decked him.This resulted in me being sent home with the threat of expulsion.Needless to say my dad was back up in Bro Clares office with the offer to have Mr McGee charged with assault or accept an apology from me and forego the expulsion.Common sense prevailed and to his credit Mr McGee did not attempt to take it out on me.
About a year after this on a cold winters day when I was standing in the yard with my hands in my pockets I once again felt the sting of the tawse on my bahookie. It was Wee Joe Barrie(by this time I was taller than he) I swung round ready to defend myself and you never saw anyone backpedal quicker.I put my hands back in my pockets and told him politely but carefully not to do that again.He obviously thought my hands were safer in my pockets and kept well away from me thereafter.It seems, looking back,that these bullies could be dealt with but-and it was a big but-it required a degree of support.
I am sure that many of the teachers knew what was going on but did not want to get involved. This was the era of Homes for unmarried mothers and forced adoption of their illegitimate children-the Model Lodging Houses-Priestly dictatorships in Scotland and Ireland where events took place in the Magdalene Laundries with state approval and even participation.Not many years before many of the Italian community had been forced into Internment Camps only being freed after the war.The British Government (for all the best reasons-mainly financial) emptied out the homes for children in care(sic) and transported the kids to the colonies.I could go on but what I think is that too many traumatised individuals were just trying to make sense of their lives and the post war restrictions made it too difficult to for them to even acknowledge the injustices and abuse (intitutionalised and personalised).This was not to excuse it but perhaps tomake it understandable.
Teachers I remember from my days were Brothers Adrian (Maths) and Luperque(Spanish) Nicky Romano(Italian) The cadaverous Mr Hewitson(Maths) The brothers Brogan Very intellectual and gentle-one of them taught Latin and the aforesaid Mr Graham.I managed to avoid him on account of chronic ear infection which sometimes affected my balance(I never did learn to guide a bike) and which I used to avoid his peculiar P(unishment) Exercise.
Classmates I recall :-Michael Venditozzi.Joe(Giuseppi Ernesto Gaetano Francesco) Zanni ,Gerry Cunningham,Sean Maher,Paul Dolan,Jim Mahon(great on Heraldry).Frank Kinghorn,John? Gilmartin(I think he went into the priethood),William McGriskin,Desmond Queen and two Reilleys(one James).
Gosh !! The floodgates have opened.

Posted by: Terry Burke 24th Sep 2011, 01:48am

I really enjoyed reading your posting, mcfergus. I was in Parson Street 1950-55, so we must have overlapped by a year or two. Sad that people never got to know anybody outside their own year. I knew most of the Parson Street teachers you mention. I had Mr Love in my Prep 6 months at Glebe Street as an English teacher, but there was something about the man I did not care for. Perhaps it was his intensity. I knew Bennett of course, but he was a benign member of the Barrie-Kelly axis. Wee Geoff Thompson the Science teacher was the fourth member of the gang and really just as far gone as Barrie and Kelly. Do you remember the "Dookit" Chemistry lab on the first floor overlying the entrance "tunnel" in Parson Street? I am pretty sure that the Chemistry teacher was a Mr John Gilroy, a tall slim guy with glasses. The problem is that nobody seems to remember him except me. Do you by any chance remember him, or have I gotten the name wrong? By the way, there is a super site about the Academy with lots of pictures at Friends Reunited. Just look up the Academy with location on the Secondary Schools pages. Once again, I really ednjoyed your posting. Keep in touch. Terry.

Posted by: mcfergus 27th Sep 2011, 10:55pm

Hi Terry(et al.)

I do agree that better interaction between year groups would have been a good thing.The "buddy" schemes adopted in some schools seem to encourage more responsible and caring mindsets so there is hope for the future.

Did you coexist with Con McGinlay who returned to the school as a teacher? I know him from other family/geographical connection in Maryhill& "Dear Old Donegal"

My brother Michael Ferguson was seven years ahead of me at Parson St.You possibly overlapped with him

The Gilroy name strikes a chord with me but I cannot put a face to the name as Science/Chemistry were not my subjects. If I hear anything about him I will let you know. I will be in touch again

Hugh F

Posted by: 0141black 30th Sep 2011, 07:33pm

Haven't been able (yet) to make my way through the many thousands of words in this thread, so apologies if this has been answered previously - the American teacher referred to in the opening pages was called Karl F Tremmel and he was from New York, or at least a fan of the New York Mets, which I recall he compared to following Partick Thistle. (This being before the 1971 League Cup Final).

He was a lovely bloke and therefore much-taken-advantage-of, to the extent that he almost volunteered to carry out impromptu lessons in aspects of female sexuality ("how to shag burdz pure good", we wanted to know), before twigging that he was being wound up.

...all of which made a nice change from several of the brothers, who were intent on investigating aspects of male sexuality, largely their own.

edit - in fact, here is the boy Tremmel's current whereabouts - http://media.shorecrest.org/Archive1/EBGX081707/NewTeachers.html. Internet, eh?

Posted by: Terry Burke 4th Oct 2011, 07:26am

Hello Hugh (et al.)

You mentioned that you remember the name Gilroy, but can't put a face to the name. He was the chemistry teacher inhabiting "The Dookit" science lab in the mid-50's. He was a tall slim dark complexioned guy with glasses. There is a late 50's staff photo on page 8. Have a look at it. Mr Gilroy is in the back row 5th from left, standing next to Mr Love.

Terry.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 5th Oct 2011, 12:42am

Re. '0141black's posting - There's a good chance this may be the same guy we had as our History teacher in 2nd Year, circa late 68 / early 69. The spikey hair looks familiar as does the gunfighter mustache he displayed back then (albeit somewhat darker back in the day). Off hand I don't remember why we seemed to go through so many History teachers at that time ( our 'Age of Aquarius' attitude probably sent some of them to seek 'therapy' of some description) but there was always Good Ol' Burkie who seemed more than qualified to fill in on just about any subject you care to mention. Either the man had a dazzling list of qualifications or else he was the consummate bullshitter - Either way Burkie was okay.
Our visiting Yank (Tremmel) approached the subject with a whole different attitude towards teaching and actually made his classes something to look forward to. I recall him pulling out photos of his wife (a babe ) and shots of various places they had been to on their travels and then one day he was gone and that was the last we ever saw of him leaving us to wonder whatever became of the guy but this new info on the man kinda brings a sense of closure to the whole thing - there was indeed life after St. Kent's...

Posted by: mcfergus 15th Oct 2011, 01:39am

HI Y'all
A quick transition from latin to taykson.Aint language wonnerful. Never bin thar-Never done that.Terry,had a look at the photo but sorry to say I do not see the face to go with the name, Memory can be pretty selective. Had a look at Friends Reunited- some names I recognised,-left a couple of indicative messages. Let's see if I get any replies
Hugh

Posted by: Terry Burke 15th Oct 2011, 08:14am

Hello Hugh

Nice to hear from you again. Thanks for looking at the staff photograph. Not to worry about not recognising the face. I'm reconciled now that nobody except myself remembers the guy. I'm glad you found the Friends Reunited pages. I particularly enjoyed all the pictures of Parson Street. I'm glad there is a record preserved, especially since the old Academy itself has gone. Like yourself I left a couple of messages for 2 old class-mates, but no replies. Funnily enough there was a film on the tellie yesterday from 1951 that one of the two and myself played truant from the Playing Fields to go and see. I was never much into games so tramping out to Kirkontilloch held little charm for me. Take care, Hugh. All the best, Terry

Posted by: Isobel 15th Oct 2011, 04:01pm

Just reading through the last few posts .As a Charlotte St pupil I knew many of the Mungo boys.Thought I would just let you know McFergus that yes John Gilmartin did go on to be a priest.
Vicar General
Right Reverend Mgr John Canon Gilmartin VG
Email:VG@rcag.org.uk
.

Posted by: mcfergus 22nd Oct 2011, 01:37am

hi again
Isobel Imentioned in my posting a couple of St Annes pupils. I have since recollected Margaret Anne Kerr & Suzannne Ward as another two Our Lady and St Francis prospective students Do they ring any bells? Re John Gilmartin-from the depth of distant Ontario is there a connection? Didn't he do well and long may it continue.D.G.

Posted by: Terry Burke 22nd Oct 2011, 11:02am

Hello Hugh,
Glad to hear from you again. Here is a surprise for you. I was once an Our Lady and St Francis "boy". Way back in primeval times when I was 5 in 1942 Our Lady and St Francis in Charlotte Street took a small number of boys (I think about 7 boys) into their Infant school, and I was one of them. I was there for two happy years with a Miss Docherty as my teacher. It was hard to get in, but my Mum managed it by playing the card that my Dad was a Japanese prisoner-of-war. I heard somewhere that the Sister who was headmistress of Our Lady and St Francis was also our Brother Clare's blood sister. Can anybody confirm this?
All the best,
Terry.

Posted by: bigarthur 16th Dec 2011, 04:19pm

All the best to all Mungo FP's around the world for this coming festive season. When I started this thread back in 2007, I could never foresee over 80,000 hits from many countries and it's great hearing your memories from the different decades. Keep them coming.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 29th Dec 2011, 02:02am

Once again - Wishing a Happy and Prosperous New Year to all the Mungoloids out there where'er you may be.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 31st Dec 2011, 11:40pm

Almost there ( once again ), O Fellow Mungoloids Worldwide. It's approaching 3pm California time - that's 11 pm in Glasgow - and due to the fact that there is a sizeable Ex-Pat community here in the LA area there is also a sizeable number of pseudo Ex-Pat British Pubs which around now are teeming with people getting ready to hoist a few. The bars celebrate the British New Year ( 4pm here ) and the free champaigne will flow in profusion pretty soon. One of our local bartenders was born in Bergen, Norway which means if New Year falls on one of his shifts, he'll be popping the corks at not only 4pm but also 3pm ( New Year in Norway ) followed up by the mandatory 4pm debauch then will no doubt find himself on the other side of the bar for local Festivities at midnight.
The die-hards may maintain the fun all the way through to midnight ( and later ) or may show a modicum of judgement and restraint and catch a few hours sack-time until this evening when they can surface for Round 2.
The 4 pm get-together used to be one of the best-kept local secrets and was a fairly close-knit 'In-the-know-' thing but unfortunately it became popular so now if you expect to secure a seat anywhere near the bar you need to be there by lunchtime.
As for myself and my (much) better half - We shall no doubt engross ourselves in umpteen episodes of a 'Still Game' collection sent across by an old Glasgow buddy with a brief break to flip the channel and watch the re-run of the Glitterball descending in New York's Times Square, run outside to fire off a few firecrackers and be back inside before the neighbors figure out who the culprits are. Sometimes you just have to live life on the edge...
So, on that note - here's wishing a happy and prosperous 2012 to all of you out there, Ex-Mungoloid and otherwise. Have a GREAT one, folks.

Posted by: PK 2nd Jan 2012, 03:16am

QUOTE (0141black @ 30th Sep 2011, 06:49pm) *
Haven't been able (yet) to make my way through the many thousands of words in this thread, so apologies if this has been answered previously - the American teacher referred to in the opening pages was called Karl F Tremmel and he was from New York, or at least a fan of the New York Mets, which I recall he compared to following Partick Thistle. (This being before the 1971 League Cup Final).

He was a lovely bloke and therefore much-taken-advantage-of, to the extent that he almost volunteered to carry out impromptu lessons in aspects of female sexuality ("how to shag burdz pure good", we wanted to know), before twigging that he was being wound up.

...all of which made a nice change from several of the brothers, who were intent on investigating aspects of male sexuality, largely their own.

edit - in fact, here is the boy Tremmel's current whereabouts - http://media.shorecrest.org/Archive1/EBGX081707/NewTeachers.html. Internet, eh?

I think it was I who mentioned the American teacher mistakenly mixing him up with a golfer. However Tremmel seems to fit the bill. Someone should try to contact him and see if he remembers the Mungo.

Posted by: mcfergus 5th Jan 2012, 02:02am

Glad that Big Arthur broke the silence-thought that Terry had opened a can of worms and had the Funky Gibbon and others reliving their memories of the "wee brown uniformed darlin's" and wondering how they missed him.
I have been looking back thro' the posts and have been surprised at the lack of concrete dates making it difficult to establish a time line for many of the stories.
I have also been sifting thro' Friends Reunited and again many of the dates do not seem to tie up. Lots of good pictures tho'.
Quite a quiet Christmas and New Year but hopefully a few more to come.
Orrabest Orratime

Posted by: beth 5th Jan 2012, 07:05am

Isobel, I was also a Charlotte Street Girl 63-67. We used to meet the boys from the academy in the Cafe at lunch time. Sadly I can't remember any names

Posted by: zascot 5th Jan 2012, 09:48am

Knew John Gilmartin well he was an alter boy at St Phillips Ruchazie, his brother Peter came to South Africa and lived here for a while before going back and opening a hotel.Peter and my brother were mates.

Posted by: malone 18th Jan 2012, 12:45am

I attended Rigby Street and Parson St from 1959 to1964 and this site has refreshed many happy memories of a great school, many fine teachers (not all of course), and great school chums.
Rigby St annexe with coal stoves in classrooms. Teachers-Sweeney, Toppin, Brickley,J Gordon(now Lord), O'Neil,McLellan et al.
Parson St-Bros Kenneth,John Ogilvie,Adrian,Luperque,Gerard,David. D & W Brogan, J Barrie, Farmer, J Byrne, J Romano, J Burns, W McLaughlin and so on.
Happy Days indeed!!

Posted by: Terry Burke 18th Jan 2012, 01:18pm

Happy days indeed, Malone. We did not quite overlap. I moved on from Parson Street for university in 1955 a few years before you arrived. I recognise most of the names you mention, but Bro.Kenneth was not at Parson Street in my time (1950-55) and I do not know ?Bro.John Ogilvie at all. There was another Marist there in my time, a Bro.Malcolm who taught us History. He was a terrible teacher and my interest in History has survived, in spite of him. He was very meek and mild on the surface, but a bit of a ticking time-bomb underneath. One minute he was as nice as could be, then somebody in the class would do something daft and he would belt the entire class quite viciously if the culprit did not own up. Looking back on it now you wonder if they had any sense of justice and fairness punishing everybody although everyone else was innocent? I doubt if they would or could get away with that nowadays.

Changing the subject, and I think I may have commented on this before. I reckon that St Mungo's must be unique among Scottish schools in at least one respect. Among my year who attended Parson Street between 1950 and 1956 a total of 5 boys who went on to study Medicine at university, later went on to specialize in Psychiatry and became consultant psychiatrists in the NHS. They were John McCurley, Joe Donnachue, Brian McNamee, Joe Duffy and myself. Five from the same year must be a record. Food for thought there? Tongue in cheek I speculate that some of our more "eccentric" teachers (Farmer Kelly et al.) drove us to it!

Posted by: mcfergus 19th Jan 2012, 02:29am

Good to see you back Terry (you little brown uniformed darlin')
As an utrained observer with fifty + years of observation and reflection I think you are not too far off the mark (Perhaps an exaggerated causal blip might be the explanation).
When I look back at my own experiences and what I dismissed as "floodgates opening" in my first posting I am all too aware that I had previously avoided contact (and awareness) with my earlier experiences. It took a long time to make sense or a cohesive picture of my earlier life. Were you any more fortunate with yours considering your Psychiatric training?. Was their some kind of drive that took you to the Far East ?
Life is a funny old thing
Hugh

Posted by: Cranhill 5th Feb 2012, 07:50pm

Fun reading thru the memories guys have. Despite the propensity towards sadism among the faculty there were many great times and I think it shaped a lot of our minds for the future. I am glad to have been part of it despite feeling the wrath of wee Barrie's belt more often than I can recall.
I don't see many posts from the class of '64 Parson's St., but recognize so many of the faculty names.

Posted by: Terry Burke 6th Feb 2012, 01:36pm

Today is the 60th anniversary of King George VI's death and I can remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday. Our classroom was at the left hand side of the first floor balcony just behind where Brother Clare used to stand at the beginning of morning and afternoon sessions. We were in the middle of a Maths lesson and Big Jimmy O'Neill was the Maths teacher. I remember halfway through the lesson he went out for a couple of minutes (probably either a nature call or for a wee puff). When he returned he announced that the King was dead. The boys all stood up and we said a decade of the rosary for the repose of the King's soul. Some occasions become very deeply imprinted in memory and this is one of those.

Hugh, You were asking me what led me to the Far East (I spent over 30 years in Singapore and Hong Kong). As long as I can remember I have always been fascinated by the Orient. Possibly (here speaks the psychiatrist in me) it was my Dad being captured by the Japanese at the Fall of Singapore in 1942 that sparked the initial interest. Who knows? Anyway the fascination has never worn off...the vibrancy, the colours, yes, and even the smells (the smell of frangipani flowers after a rain storm or the smell of jasmine at night, or the smell of spices as you walk around). Anyway I feel that I have been so fortunate to have lived and worked for so long in the Far East. I still try to keep up with the languages because you forget so quickly how to write Chinese characters correctly unless you keep up practising reading and writing them. Every day there was full of new and exciting things. But you know, Hugh, it is sometimes difficult to understand why we do the things we do...often we just do them. I have no regrets that I did them.

Posted by: mcfergus 11th Mar 2012, 01:21am

Funny how you remember things.
My earliest memory is of chickens as big as me.
I was born as an evacuee baby in 1941 in Meiklour House Hospital, a grand estate house converted during the war, and for a couple of years I lived in the Queen Anne hotel in Blairgowrie where I crawled about under the kitchen tables with giant sized copper pans and the aforesaid chickens who had free run of the kitchen -alive and when being cooked. Can you imagine what it was like when I was 7,8 and 9 and the chickens still appeared in my mind as big as me.
Closer to your memory Terry I cannot say I remember the death of King George but what I do remember is not so long after the coronation of Q E I (of Scotland and the rest of the Commonwealth) &Q E 2 of England, a delivery of apples from Canada -a gift to commemorate the occasion-the biggest,sweetest, roundest,juiciest apples -the likes of which I had never seen or tasted.The short lived silver lining to your cloud Terry but I can still taste it.
Like yourself,Terry,and I suspect most people, my life was not a grand plan. The laws of supply and demand needed certain talents after the war and I cannot remember many of my contemporaries saying they wanted to be psychiatrists or brain surgeons or priests or anything else for that matter. I had thought of being a teacher but was put off by thinking what might happen if I came across a stroppy kid like me. Perhaps a residual guilt trip you might say. Instead I had a good career in HM Civil Service. But I found out later that I still had the Instinct to teach as the children of my Italian friends have discovered. I go there to keep up with my Italian and I have taught them English and world history. Education at times seems to have become more restricted. Can you imagine telling Italians about the Fall of Troy, The Aeneid, the Carthginians and how these events shaped Italy. I certainly had a good all round education at the Mungo and, in a funny sort of way, am proud to have been there.

"Mais non je ne regret rien"

Edeith Piaff eat your heart out....Hugh

Posted by: learlach 16th Apr 2012, 09:08am

McFergus - absolutely correct, agood all-round education. I was helping to teach English to Spanish people here in Spain and the mormon missionaries were astounded at the breadth of my education. That is what I owe to the Mungo.

Regards to all

Learach

Posted by: methane 20th Apr 2012, 02:58pm

Well Big Arturo. It is quite amazing how many people have posted their stories about The Mungo. Well done you.

I don't suppose some of those teachers we experienced expected their peculiarities ever to catch up with them in such a forum, pupils as well I suppose. I am particularly glad that my father Jimmy Meighan comes out of it well, particularly as he was one of those who entered through the Teachers Special Recruitment Scheme after the war. He started out in Rigby Street and Kennedy Street where a couple of thugs thought he might have been a soft touch not realising that he had done a bit of boxing and had been a fairly tough foreman motor mechanic in a former life.

I even had him as a teacher for maths in Barony Street. By that time he had given up using the belt as he had enough of a reputation not to need it. I did, however suffer for having a father who was a teacher.

I am, by the way, Michael Meighan, brother to Martin, Jim and Stephen, all who attended the Mungo. You might like to know that a group of us are putting on a wee play at the Fringe on the 9,10,11th August called 'The Mungo Boys'. We got together after 40 years to do a wee CD and decided to take it a stage further. Our wee play is about transition from school life to 60 and will feature some of the names mentioned in the posts. Our wee group features Mikk Rankin, Taam Fleming, Kevin Wyber, Pat Whitley, Paul McBeth and me. Present pupils at The Mungo will have starring roles and there will be some music. You might also read a wee bit about the Mungo in my books 'Glasgow Smells' and 'Glasgow Smells Better'. I think I can safely say that I owe my writing ability to Willie McLaughlin and Brother John Ogilvie. Orrabest. Michael


Posted by: *scrubber* 23rd Apr 2012, 02:07pm

Well methane I was a recipient of your dad's belt, we had just won the Scottish junior shield and we were sent round the classes to show the trophy off and we literally barged into his class all really full of ourselves talking and laughing. Well he went loopy and told us to stand against the wall while he got his belt and he belted us for interrupting his class, when
you think about it he was spot on.

scrubber

Posted by: Ninian Carter 30th Apr 2012, 09:34pm

Fond memories indeed of attending Duke Street in the 1950s (opposite the women's prison) under Brother Conrad, and Parson Street, under Brother Clare (with Brothers Luke, Adrian, etc.) Whatever happened to those Marist Brothers? And who could forget Mr. Currie (announcing the death of a king), the Italian-Glaswegian Mr. Fattor (teaching me the French I still retain), and Messrs Fleming and Gilroy ladling out Physics and Chemistry.

Living in California I plan on visiting Glasgow in October. Do old Mungoites/Mungoers/FPs have a place they meet (I remember years ago they had a house on Great Western Road), where I might renew some old acquaintances? If anyone knows I would be grateful if they would let me know at ngdcarter@gmail.com

Posted by: bigarthur 3rd May 2012, 03:30pm

Hi Michael,

I had your father for Physics in 3rd year at Barony Street. I always remember his first day in class when he introduced himself by asking if any of the pupils came from Anderston. No one did and he responded that he came from Anderston and that it was one of the toughest areas in Glasgow. We got the message - don't mess with me !
Not having a mathmatical bent, I found Physics quite beyond me but your old man persisted with the tuition and much to my amazement, I actually gained an "O" Level in the subject. One of my proudest achiements as it was totally unexpected.
Hope your play goes well at The Fringe and who knows, might see it at the Citizens one of these days. I've ordered GLASGOW SMELLS on Amazon and look forward to reading it. Keep up the good work and all the best for the future.

Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 4th May 2012, 12:22am

QUOTE
Archibald Docherty


Teacher;

Born: February 23,1920; Died: January 12, 2012.

Archibald Docherty, who has died aged 91, was a teacher and war veteran who took part in the campaign for the liberation of Europe.

He was born in Townhead, Glasgow, the youngest of a family of nine children, and attended St Mungo's Primary and the Academy.



http://www.heraldscotland.com/comment/obituaries/archibald-docherty.17265078

Posted by: Terry Burke 4th May 2012, 10:35am

Re: Mr Archibald Docherty.

His master said to him, "Well done,good and faithful servant; you have shown how you can be faithful in small things, I will trust you with greater; come and join in your master's happiness".
Matthew 25:21


He now lives forever in a place of light, happiness and peace embraced eternally by his master's love.

Posted by: wee davy 4th May 2012, 10:39am

Clearly a man who lived his faith, Dexter.
Thanks for posting the link, and condolences to the family.

Also, being the youngest of a family of nine, growing up in 30's Toonheid, he done INCREDIBLY well, to make use of his time at the Mungo, in order to become a teacher.

You have to take your hat off to him.

wee davy

Posted by: Terry Burke 4th May 2012, 07:23pm

Arthur, I could have written exactly for myself what you wrote about your problem with Physics, and I understand completely. For me also it was an arcane mystery that only became more arcane as my years in Parson Street (1950-55) went on. Brother Adrian taught us Physics in Parson Street before he became reincarnated as a Maths teacher. There have been one or two "miracles" in my life and one of them was passing Higher Physics in the Scottish Universities Prelim Exams. To this day I'm not convinced there wasn't a mix-up in their exam results. But, hey, who is complaining I got a pass when I thought that I was only there for the beer. But you know what? I suspect that we both maybe turned out o.k in the end without ever having become Nobel laureates in Physics and it certainly wasn't Brother Adrian's fault that I just happened to be as thick as pig-s**t when it comes to Physics.

Posted by: bigarthur 9th May 2012, 12:47pm

Davy,

You’re spot on about anyone who grew up in Townhead in the 1930’s going on to become a teacher. Teaching would have been a very middle class profession in those days and you could hardly call the Toonheid of the Hungry 30’s middle class. To come from a family of 9 children and he presumably got through uni and to qualify is some feat. I note he then found time to fight in WW2 as well. Sounds like quite a man and one his family should be proud of as I’m sure they are.

Posted by: wee davy 9th May 2012, 01:56pm

Can you imagine huvvin tae dae yer homework in a tenement 'apartment'?
(I use the word apartment quite deliberately hehe). Wi another ten people in the room??

He must hiv plugged his ears wi' lard!

Then there's the additional problem of being the youngest - everybody elses boot boy laugh.gif

Posted by: @araxia 11th May 2012, 01:11pm

Great posts. Brings back memories long gone.

I attended St Mungo's in the late 1940s. The only teacher I remember was Brother Alexis who must have been there a long time (see Mike Docherty, 7 June 2008).

Regarding Bro. Alexis' spanking fetish. His approach usually followed some misdemeanour when he would offer the offender a choice: the belt, or an 'old-fashioned' spanking. The latter consisted of him taking the student to his room, removing the boy's trousers and underpants (if they wore any), putting him over his knee, and gently patting his bottom a few times. Most of the boys preferred the belt, but the occasional one opted for the old-fashioned spanking.

It was how he got his kicks, but was actually a form of blackmail.

I was deservedly expelled in about 1948/49 for writing on the blackboard: "Brother Alexis is a poof", or some similar word, I forget exactly what term was in vogue at the time.

It was a good school though and I must say I didn't come across any overt cruelty.

I'm 77 now and live in Dublin. I visited Glasgow last year for the first time in 45 years. I wrote down the names of seven of my old pals and traced six of them one by one: they were all dead, either through cancer or drink.

The seventh I didn't even bother about - he was a very fat unhealthy guy and drank like a fish, but it turned out he was the only one still alive and was living in London. I contacted him and he has since visited me in Dublin.

Funny old world, heh?

Posted by: pjmcbeth 10th Jun 2012, 08:46pm

Just to let you all know of a new play to be premiered at this year's Edinburgh Fringe - The Mungo Boys

The Mungo Boys. A true story. Class 6B2, St. Mungo's Academy, Glasgow, 1968. Six brash tenement boys bound by their class, music and dreams of making it big, who, instead, chose university, careers and family. After a 40 year split, they're back together - older, no wiser - to pick up where they left off, to play their re-discovered songs of love and angst. A funny but gentle heart-warming record of youthful naivety, hope and optimism; a story of six pals who, to paraphrase the school motto, achieved nothing without work -but never lost the dream


We have 6 boys from the current St Mungo's playing us and it is being directed by Chloe Dobson-O'Sullivan from the Conservatoire of Scotland. It features some of the songs we wrote 40 years ago, and some a bit more current - although it is a play with music, rather than a musical.

The play features stories about Wee Joe Barry, Farmer Kelly, O'Hanlon and another maths teacher called MacAlloon(?).


If there is anything else I can help with please let me know.
The Edinburgh Fringe website for details is :
http://www.edfringe.com/search#q=show_performer%3Athe%20mungo%20boys&fq=dates%3A%5B2012-08-01T06%3A00%3A00Z%20TO%202012-09-05T06%3A00%3A00Z%5D


Posted by: Dexter St. Clair 10th Jun 2012, 11:52pm

Paul. Read the rest of the thread.

Others may point out that Frank McAloon nor O'Hanlon would not have taught any sixth year class as they were based in St. Kentigern's.

You may wish to submit a script to someone who was there to proofread for howlers.

Good luck with the play.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 14th Jun 2012, 11:39am

Dexter,
Sorry if you have misunderstood my posting. In the play, the 6th year boys reminisce about their time in St Mungo, which included St Kents.

All of the guys featured in the play went to St Mungo's. I'm surprised you seem to think otherwise.

Don't think there are any howlers. Maybe a bit of poetic license, as it is a play.

Thanks for your good wishes

Posted by: wee davy 14th Jun 2012, 12:41pm

pj - please let me know if a video comes out - I would like to see what I missed out on lol

regards, davy

Posted by: pjmcbeth 18th Jun 2012, 11:39am

Wee Davy,
Speilberg has been in touch, but we're playing hard ball with him. And Ken Loach is on my phone all the time!

We will be making every attempt to record the last night, so there may be a chance to see what you missed. There are trains from South Yorkshire to Edinburgh - I know cos my daughter lives in Sheffield!

Cheers

Posted by: mcfergus 18th Jun 2012, 01:37pm

pj
looks like the start of something. I'm going to Ireland for the summer & will be unable to see the show live. Hope you are able to record it for your wider public.

Posted by: mcfergus 20th Jun 2012, 12:32am

Re-Archibald Docherty
Thinking back to people I knew I suspect that he was the product of a collective effort of all of his family.
A father who worked hard to feed them all throughout the depressive twenties,
a mother who worked equally hard to eke out a probably depressed wage,hold her family together and give them a sound christian upbringing
his siblings who took on their share of the effort as they became able. Some of them were probably as clever and bright as he was but circumstances denied them the opportunity.
All were heroes in their own right and he was the proof.
He rewarded their efforts by giving back more than he was given
:-as a good student- a good soldier- a good teacher-a good parent and a great Christian.

Not everybodies bootboy but a reward for their collective effort.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 20th Jun 2012, 05:01pm

The Mungo Boys - The Edinburgh Fringe 9/10/11th August has now got a Facebook page - the wonders of technology!

http://www.facebook.com/themungoboys

I forgot to mention that any profits will be for the benefit of the Academy.

Posted by: Terry Burke 25th Jun 2012, 07:28pm

Let's all do our very best, lads, to give Paul support by attending the play. It would be nice if we could all attend on the same evening and have a "mini-reunion" afterwards. God willing, I definitely plan attending.

Posted by: Michael Docherty 26th Jun 2012, 12:26am

When this thing becomes a roaring success and you take it on the road don't forget to give me a holler when you reach L.A.
Best of luck, guys.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 26th Jun 2012, 11:13am

terry,
Thanks for your support and for going on to

www.facebook.com/themungoboys

and 'like'd it. The more 'like's we get the more exposure we get.

If you've been on the facebook page recently, you'll have seen that The Bow Bar, 80 West Bow, Victoria St has been designated as The Official Meeting Point for any Mungo Boys or friends attending the play. The manager, Mike Smith, is the son of an ex-pat Mungo Boy - Martin Smith - and has offered to put up a poster and handout flyers for the play, and to make Mungo Boys especially welcome.

So if you are having a re-union, or just a drink before or after the play, why not make it the Bow Bar. Its only 10 minutes walk from the play venue, Lauriston Halls, Lauriston St.

And thanks again Terry.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 26th Jun 2012, 12:34pm

Michael,
Thanks for the post. If you can go onto
www.facebook.com/themungoboys and 'like' it, i would be grateful.

We have plans to tour Californiawith the Play - that's the one near Falkirk!

Posted by: methane 4th Jul 2012, 08:56am

You might like to know that there will be an article on 'The Mungo Boys' in 'Flourish" The Glasgow Archdiocese magazine in August. In the meantime just as a reminder here are the 'Old Boys:
from left

Pat Whitley - Currently senior executive in oil exploration
Kevin Wyber - Retired Customs Officer - presently teaching English as a foreign language
Mikk Rankin - Retired teacher
Taam Fleming - Retired Teacher
Michael (Big Mick) Meighan - Learning and Development consultant and writer.
Paul McBeth - Retired Learning and Development company owner

Michael Meighan


 

Posted by: Terry Burke 4th Jul 2012, 05:43pm

It's really great to see you lads hanging out together after all these years. Sadly, former pupils from the 1950's seem to have been much more "fragmented" and I really have lost touch with all of them. I wrote brief messages to a few of them but am afraid that I never received any replies. Ah, well, c'est la vie! Hang in there, lads, because those Academy years were precious no matter how bloody awful they sometimes felt at the time.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 6th Jul 2012, 08:49am

You might also want to keep 6pm Tuesday's clear. The Mungo Boys will be on a world famous radio station soon. (World famous in Glasgow anyway!) Which Tuesday is a secret, but we will let you know in plenty of time. An interview and perhaps some live music.

And remember, if you haven't 'liked' the Facebook site www.facebook.com/themungoboys please do so soon.

Posted by: pjmcbeth 12th Jul 2012, 10:49am

There is a 'new' class photo of 2D1 1964 on http://www.facebook.com/themungoboys.

That's nearly 50 years ago, and it only seems like yesterday! or maybe the day before yesterday.....

Posted by: pjmcbeth 14th Aug 2012, 09:25am

Make up washed off, stage sets down, sound systems locked away.
But every single one of the 320 people who saw the play left the hall with a smile on their face and some with a tear in their eye.
As the song said - 'life gives us chances and takes others away'. The young actors who carried the play on their shoulders certainly took their chances and delivered brilliant performances.
What next? Watch this space!

Posted by: PHC 14th Aug 2012, 12:16pm

I only just discovered this site yesterday and have spent a lot of time reading through some of these posts. Many, many names coming back to me - McAloon, McConville, Wee Joe, Savage, McLaughlin, Farr, etc, etc! Too many and too far back to be sure! I've also been looking at the Facebook page, and at Friends Reunited, and there are other names leaping out which take me back as well. I've been working it out - I went into Prep in january 1962 at kennedy Street; did First and Second Years at St Kentigern's; Third year was at The Barony; and Fourth and Fifth Years at Parson Street. Lots of familiar names leaping out, some of who I shared a class with at some time or other. Jim Thomson; Liam Leddy; Stuart Henderson; Michael Driscoll; Paul McBeth - and no doubt some of the nom de plumes used here hide some of these and others! I'm Bernard McCabe, although for some reason I seem to have been known as Barney!

Posted by: PHC 14th Aug 2012, 12:21pm

Oh! And John Martin - how could I forget him?! Foort.

Posted by: Guest 24th Aug 2012, 11:08pm

Someone posted a couple if "Ipse Dixist" from the 70s. I'm looking for the one for the next year 74/75. Any ideas?

PAUL

Posted by: FrankDoc 12th Sep 2012, 09:17pm

Re: Post #270

Thanks to Dexter St. Clair for posting my father’s (Archibald Docherty) obituary on the St. Mungo’s Academy board.

He was not a “famous” St Mungo’s FP, but a good example of an inter-war generation Mungo Boy.

A few posts, #271-#275, wondered about his life and I can fill in some of the blanks.

The 1911 census shows the Docherty family with 5 children living in 2 rooms at 139 Albert Street in Townhead. Albert Street was renamed McAslin Street at a later date and is just around the corner from St Mungo’s at Parson Street.

The family moved to Paisley to be closer to his father’s job at Coates the thread-makers. He had a manager job and they lived on Greenhill Road where the new St Mirren stadium is today and the family continued to grow.

World War I intervened and his father went to war, returning in 1918. However, there was no job to support him and his family, now eight children. His job at Coates had been “outsourced” to India (it’s not a new thing!). Since Coates could not import the raw material to make finished goods in Scotland during war-time, they exported the machinery and taught the locals to do the work, and this became their modus operandi from that point onwards, to the detriment of Paisley.

The family returned to the Townhead area and his father had difficulty getting a similar manager job, with the competition from all the newly unemployed military returnees and immigrants, and he became a Glasgow Corporation tram driver for the rest of his working career at a reliable but reduced level of income. My father was the last of the nine children, a post-World War I boom baby born in 1920 at 129 Albert (McAslin) Street, almost 20 years younger than his oldest brother, and named after his mother’s cousin who died in World War I.

The children all went to St Mungo’s primary and the boys went on to the Academy. One of his older brothers cried when he had to leave school at 14 for financial reasons. Three of his older brothers obtained engineering apprenticeships and did well, working their way up from the bottom in companies such as Drysdales Pumps though not without tough times. The engineering apprentices faced religious discrimination, particularly in the ship building industry. Two brothers lost their jobs during the depression for refusing to join the Masons and, once they were master craftsmen, would reserve their special training for Catholic apprentices – an early form of “affirmative action” – and examples of the stubbornness instilled at the Academy.

Another brother went to art school and became a draftsman then an architect building factories for Coates the thread makers all over the world – a little bit of “if you can’t beat them, join them”; one went into retail, managing the “discount basement” at Lewis’s on Argyle Street before opening his “own” John Lewis Store in Oxford. So the Mungo Boys who did not go on to further education in that generation did very well. His sisters, who went to St Mungo’s Primary but of course not the Academy, also did well as tailors, managing the staff in various factories.

My father wanted to be a Maths teacher and his siblings encouraged that. Most of them had given up their further education opportunity for financial reasons but, as they married and moved out, the financial pressures on the family lessened. The family moved from Townhead in the 30s to a new house on Edinburgh Road in Carntyne and my father was able to finish school at St Mungo’s and enroll in Glasgow University in 1938, by which time he had met my mother.

Then World War II intervened. The Mungo Boys and their university friends had done their reading and knew that “Mein Kampf” was for real and quite a few of them were recruited for the Royal Corps of Signals or other branches of the military, in particular the RAF, without being conscripted. My father spent the war in the Signals, landing in Normandy just after D-Day as part of the Allied front that fought across Europe to Hamburg.

After the war, he returned to Glasgow where he joined a special accelerated university program to prepare teachers for the expected post-war baby boom. He was the first university graduate in his family, graduating in 1947 from Glasgow University with an M.A. He went to Jordanhill for teacher training and began teaching in 1948. My parents were married in St Mungo’s church in 1949.

As it says in his funeral booklet, “Archie was always a spiritual son of Parson Street with strong ties of affection and loyalty for the Passionist Fathers and the Marist Brothers” and he did what he could as a teacher. He joined the staff at the Marist school, St Mark’s Junior Secondary in Shettleston, and taught there during the late 40s, 50s and early 60s.

My father was well known to all the Marist headmasters at St Mungo’s Academy from the 30s through the 60s and they had assumed that he would “come home” one day to teach like quite a few of his contemporaries. However, in 1962, I went to St Mungo’s and was there until I left in 1968. My brother Tom was there from 1965 to 1971. My father had decided that he did not want to teach in the same school as his kids so he (mercifully) did not follow up on job offers from St Mungo’s and moved on to St Gregory’s instead.

Our discussions of my experience at St Mungo’s opened his eyes to some of the “quality control problems” that St Mungo’s was having at that time and the exceptional eccentricities on display. He did not quite believe it at first but checked into it with his friends in the business like Bert Pacitti and Paddy O’Neil at St Mungo’s. At the same time, he was becoming an advocate of the comprehensive system with his experience at St Gregory’s.

His approach to teaching was “value add” – a good teacher should make each child better for their teaching, irrespective of where the child was on the talent scale initially. He came to believe that schools such as St Mungo’s wasted the talents of many pupils by concentrating on the most able (or politically connected) and did not make each child better for their teaching, in fact destroying many promising academic careers by lack of attention. Comments on these boards would seem to confirm that many pupils succeeded “despite” a St Mungo’s education, especially those not in the nA1 or similar classes.

Consequently my three younger siblings were educated at Our Lady of Lourdes Secondary in Cardonald where they had a less eccentric experience and an effective education. Two graduated from Glasgow University and one from the University of the West of Scotland.

My father was a big fan of St Mungo’s in the 30s when he was there but could separate himself from that as he saw the issues in the 60s and never joined the Mungo teaching staff, even after his sons had left, preferring to finish his teaching career at John Bosco in the Gorbals.

St Mungo’s banged a few things into my father which he attempted to pass on to his children. He believed in social justice and equality – not a commie – but definitely quite pink, and he believed that people should work in their own local environments to make things better for the worst off – thus his 50+ year association with the St Vincent De Paul Society.

He identified with the working class Catholics who were determined to improve the education and prospects of later generations and eliminate the religious discrimination that was prevalent in Scottish society at that time. He felt that was mostly accomplished during his lifetime but expressed concern that we traded a “proddie mafia” for a “catholic mafia” in Glasgow politics to the detriment of the city overall.

St Mungo’s instilled a life-long inquisitiveness and after the age of 85 and my mother’s death he visited the USA, Canada, France, Bosnia and Ireland on numerous occasions, typically two trips each year.

As I indicated, he was not a famous FP, but one of a group who grew up between the wars. They were molded by St Mungo’s Academy and made a mark on Scottish society, one Mungo Boy at a time, opening doors for the next generation to be more successful in business, law, politics, arts and sciences, as well as the traditional success with pubs, bookmakers, teaching and the church.

Frank Docherty 1962-1968

Posted by: mcfergus 15th Sep 2012, 10:35am

Welcome to the board Frank.
You appear to have confirmed my thoughts (#283) re your Dads family and his upbringing.However you did not mention his mother. Did you know your gran?
Your father may not have been "a famous FP" but I suspect that he was a more inspirational character than most.
You mentioned that he knew something of the culture of The Mungo when you were there. Did he ever compare "his Mungo" to yours?. The FP club was more active in the Sixties. Did he ever come across Joe Barrie or the Farmer?

Posted by: bigarthur 21st Sep 2012, 01:28pm

Thoroughly enjoyed your posting, Frank. Quite poignant in places when you read about the obstacles his generation had to overcome. He obviously had the life force in him as shown by his charity work and to “make things better for the worst off” shows the character of the man. He has achieved much and touched more people in his lifetime than our present day shallow politicians and “celebrities”. A father to be proud of but then you don’t need a numpty like me to state the obvious.

Posted by: learlach 25th Sep 2012, 07:58am

Frank,

Very moving what you wrote and very true. I was in the Mungo at the same time as you and I believe that we knew each other in Parsons Street 4 and 5 Alpha (A,B&C).