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> Old School: St Mungo's Academy, I attended in the 1960's
Rating 5 V
Dexter St. Clair
post 2nd Jul 2008, 11:23pm
Post #31


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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.
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*Michael Docherty*
post 3rd Jul 2008, 05:54am
Post #32






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....
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*Michael Docherty*
post 3rd Jul 2008, 05:57am
Post #33






Quick P.S. to Dexter - Any idea what became of art teacher Byrne or English teacher ( Big Wullie ) McLaughlin ?
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*Michael Docherty*
post 4th Jul 2008, 05:08am
Post #34






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...
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Dexter St. Clair
post 4th Jul 2008, 06:06pm
Post #35


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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.
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*Michael Docherty*
post 4th Jul 2008, 11:16pm
Post #36






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...
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*Kenny Nicholas*
post 24th Jul 2008, 08:20pm
Post #37






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.
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*Michael Docherty*
post 1st Aug 2008, 07:12am
Post #38






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.
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*Guest Paulk **
post 5th Aug 2008, 11:54pm
Post #39






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).
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*Michael Docherty*
post 6th Aug 2008, 06:55pm
Post #40






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...
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*Michael Docherty*
post 6th Aug 2008, 07:02pm
Post #41






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 ?
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AL SYMER
post 10th Aug 2008, 10:18pm
Post #42

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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.
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*Michael Docherty*
post 14th Aug 2008, 12:37am
Post #43






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...
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Kentigern
post 25th Aug 2008, 06:51pm
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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.


--------------------
The conclusion of your syllogism, I said lightly, is fallacious, being based upon licensed premises.
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Dexter St. Clair
post 29th Aug 2008, 06:46am
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Al Symer

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

23rd precinct
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