Nostalgic visit to St Georges and Midway, Bertram Crescent

A wonderful trip down memory lane.  St Georges, my old school, was unfortunately all locked up but I managed to take photos through the gate and fence. Then, by foot, I retraced my old cycle route from Mowbray to Bertram Crescent where I took some snaps of our old family home where I grew up. Then a short walk to the wonderful children's park that I often visited when I was young with its swings, seesaw and roundabout. 

St Georges (my old school)

Walking to Bertram Crescent through the Rondebosch Common

Midway, Bertram Crescent (my childhood home)

Our old park near Bertram Crescent

Nostalgic music from my childhood and teens

"Every life has a soundtrack." Jodi Picoult

I love that you can embed your Spotify playlists into your web site. Here are the songs that were the soundtrack of my childhood and teens.  I had so much fun compiling it and revisiting songs, many of which have special, vivid memories attached.

Teacher tributes

It feels sad knowing some of your teachers have passed away, especially ones you were close to.  It reminds you of your own mortality and the fact you're now significantly older than many of them were when they taught you!  

I saw tributes on The Old Georgian Union website for the following teachers.

Shirley Allan (Sub B teacher)

• Shirley Allan, passed away on 25 August 2015 in the UK. Shirley taught in the Prep School at St George’s for 24 years from 1974 - 1998. Over the years she set a firm foundation for many Georgians.

Brian Snaddon (Std 7 teacher)

• Brian Snaddon (Staff member 1985 - 1990) passed away 25th Aug 2011 in Cape Town.

Joan Suttle (English teacher, senior school)

• Joan Suttle (Staff 1986 – 1990) passed away on Monday, 29 April 2019. Our sincere condolences to her far-flung family, from many who benefited from knowing her at St George's.
  
  On 30 April of Mrs Joan Suttle who with her husband, Ray, arrived from Zimbabwe to teach at St George's towards the end of 1986. Ray taught Latin here for many years before moving first to Herschel then to Bishops to teach that subject.
  
  During her time at SGGS, Mrs Suttle - known to the pupils as M'am - taught English to Matric candidates. She always demanded the very highest standards of speech, expression and courtesy; her excellent work was reflected in our great success in public-speaking, debating and the annual Eisteddfod, and many will remember her production of 'Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat' and her fortnightly sessions of public speaking in the Hall.
  
  In December 1990, after teaching here for nearly six years, she left to concentrate on her estate agency work, but continued to live at St George's while her husband taught Latin here; he also ran the cricket, the rugby and the squash."

Other teachers I know have passed

• Geoff Burton, Std 8 teacher  (from cancer)
• Ray Suttle
• Jenny Mallet, Std 2 teacher  (in the 1990's after diving)

A Facebook message

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Graeme! Wow, it's been ages. Thanks for being such a kind soul at school. (St. George's std 3-5)

I remember being afraid while keeping watch at a school campfire. Kleinmond if I recall correctly.

You sat with me, calmed me down and let me know I was not alone. That if I got scared again, you'd be nearby.

I have often thought of that time whenever I've found myself in trouble while growing up.

I'm reminded that at that fire, I was taught that all things pass, including fear.

Thanks Graeme

Ikram Abrahams

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Wow, what a beautiful message. Thank you dear Ikram for sharing your story, your kind words and affirmation. I'm so glad I could be there for you. Sending you love.

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My most memorable teachers

I wrote this true short piece for students to introduce "used to" and "would" to talk about repeated actions and states in the past.


I used to go to a small school in South Africa for boys only. I went to the same school for twelve years.  I used to love Biology but I didn't use to like Latin.

At first, my favourite teacher was Mr Howard, my Biology teacher.  During the school holidays, he used to travel a lot . When he returned, he would show us amazing photos of animals and plants from his trips.  My love for nature, travel and photography is thanks to him.

When I was older, my favourite teacher was Miss Jones, my Maths Teacher.  She was young and pretty and she used to wear a different coloured ribbon in her hair every day.  Each day before she came into class, we would try to guess the colour of her ribbon.  The whole class had a crush on her. We’d usually behave badly in class but we were like meek puppies when she was around.

My scariest teacher was Mrs Ford. She was always bad tempered and she would sometimes shout at us until our ears hurt.  If you did something wrong, she used to stand behind you and pinch your ear lobe till you begged for mercy.  I remember her well.  I still sometimes see her in my nightmares.

[Note: The final teacher is fictional but is inspired by Mam Suttle who did indeed pinch our ear lobes from behind if we misbehaved!]

St Georges 1983

I love Facebook!! It is keeping me linked in with all my old friends. Patrick just uploaded this old class photo from St Georges. Good fun identifying all the old faces.

Letter to Mr Suttle, my Latin teacher

Mr Suttle taught me Latin through my senior school years.  He taught us Latin translation (using brilliant texts he'd developed himself) and also inspired in me a lasting love of Roman history.  As part of our final year, we had to write 3 extended essays on aspects of Roman history and it gave rise to a level of enthusiasm and creativity in me that surprised and delighted me.  You can read one of them here.

Ray Suttle also taught us how to create and use mind maps as a way to study.  I immediately fell in love with this visual and practical tool and used it extensively in my final school year of study. I also used it at university and have used it often in my career.

Ray was elderly and suffered from gout which made him move very slowly.  Some of the boys called him "Speed Wobble" as a result. In his prime, he was the headmaster of a very reputable private school in Zimbabwe.  He was very highly respected for this leadership and scholarly excellence in the Latin field.  However, by the time he came to St Georges, Latin was rapidly falling out of favour, regarded as a dead language and no longer relevant for the modern age.  In our class, there were only three students who studied it. Everyone else opted for Geography instead.  It was the same story in all the younger classes at St Georges.  I think Ray felt this lack of interest very keenly.

In my final exam at school, I gained a distinction in Latin, thanks to Ray's excellent teaching.  This distinction, coupled with a distinction in Afrikaans, earned me a distinction overall which meant the world to me.

I left school, and went to the University of Cape Town on the slopes of Table Mountain to study 1st year Zoology and Botany. However, on a regular basis, I would return to the vicinity of my old school because I was a member of a youth group in the area.

One night, before going to the youth group, I suddenly felt inspired to write Ray Suttle a letter. It was a thank you note, written quickly on a blank piece of paper, but written from the heart.  I thanked him for his excellent teaching that had earned me my distinction. I told him how much I had enjoyed the classes and that I was finding the Latin really useful in my Zoology and Botany lessons. I also told him how much I benefited by using the mind-maps he had taught us.  

As I drove past the school on my way to youth group, I stopped off at Ray's residence on the boundary of school where he lived with his wife, Mam Suttle, who had been our English teacher.  It was late in the evening and getting dark. I dropped off the letter in his letter box and went on my way.

I forgot about it and 5 or more years went by.

Then one day I received a letter out of the blue.  I cannot remember how the letter got to me; maybe via my mum who bumped into Mam Suttle from time to time.  The letter was from Ray.

In the letter, Ray wrote something along the lines of "I remember that night so well, I heard a scurrying outside the door and went out to see someone disappearing off into the darkness. Then I found the letter.  I have to tell you, in all honesty, no letter has ever effected me more. It came at a time when I was feeling completely demotivated and flat in regards to my teaching profession.  I wondered if it was all worth it.  Your kind, heart-felt words meant everything to me.  They sank very deep. They gave me my mojo back.  They made all the difference in the world.  Thank you, thank you for your letter."

Reading these words moved me to tears. It was, and continues to be, my greatest teaching about the immense power of gratitude expressed from the heart. Inspired by this, I have written many more letters of gratitude over the years.  

Thank you, dear Mr Suttle, for yet another of your priceless lessons.

Mr Suttle introduced us to mind maps like this one ...

Pompeii - The Final Day (Aged 17)

INTRODUCTION

“The great aim of archaeology”, Philippe Diole suggests, is to restore the warmth and truth of life to dead objects. “ Nowhere can that aim be better realized than at Pompeii. The following description makes this evidently clear:

“As my eye adapted to the dark, a pitiful cluster of skeletons emerged from the wet volcanic ash at my feet. They seemed to have been huddled together. Maggi is convinced they were a household in flight: seven adults, four children, and a baby lying cradled beneath one of the adults. The most striking skeleton lay with head buried, as if sobbing into a pillow. “Rick Gore (visitor to Pompeii)

Numerous scenes, such as the one described above, have been uncovered at Pompeii’s excavation site. Many are gruesome, others are particularly moving. All are tragic. Through them we have been permitted an intimate glimpse into the ways of an earlier people and much knowledge and insight have been acquired. It is Vesuvius whom we must thank. With her pumice and ash she achieved the impossible, bringing time to a virtual standstill. Thus she preserved Pompeii and brought her safe and intact into the twentieth century. And then, in the minds and imaginations of many, she was brought to life again.

“Blow on a man’s embers and a live flame will start, “ said poet Robert Graves. How true his words would prove to be. For at Pompeii, “the breath of science coaxes flames of knowledge from bare bones”. As Rick Gore says, “the dead do indeed tell tales at Vesuvius”. Life and death seem suddenly to be on intimate terms.

As a result of archaeological discoveries, we are able to reconstruct, in almost perfect detail, exactly what everyday life must have been like in Pompeii before the eruption. No mirror of the past could possibly be more vivid than the reflection offered us by this city.

But what of the actual day of the eruption; an August day when that whole busy world was brought to such an abrupt stop? Can it too be reconstructed? We know that the eruption itself occurred in the early afternoon, but what were people doing before then and what happened afterwards? These questions, and many others, fascinate me. It is difficult to answer them with any absolute certainty as the information available on the subject is often lacking. I do not believe this should be a deterrent for we should still be permitted to contemplate and fantasize. That is what I have done through this project. Using my imagination and all the archaeological evidence I can find, I have given my own personal impression of what life was like on that final tragic day.

THE FINAL DAY

Dawn on 24 August AD 79 broke like any other day. As the sun began her ascent, Vesuvius and her surroundings gradually lit up. It was a typical August morning. The air was warm and luminous and the sky was clear. In the distance, the Bay of Naples was blue and glassy calm. August was a hot month and the countryside was dry and parched. However, it had not lost any of its striking beauty. Cyprus trees dotted the landscape and in them birds sang, while along one of the roads in the area, a lone traveler covered the last stretch of his journey. His destination was Pompeii. A mule walked rhythmically beside him and as its hooves struck the dry path, puffs of dust rose into the air. Vesuvius looked down onto the scene, her imposing presence dominating all that was around her. Clothes in green olive groves and vineyards, she looked as majestic and noble as ever and the whole atmosphere instilled a feeling of peace. In fact, however, nothing could have been further from the truth.

For, beneath Vesuvius, huge violent forces were at work. Below her was a cavity, melted out of the hard rock. In it was a seething, bubbling mass of scorching, molten magma mixed with poisonous gases. Thousands of years before, this magma had been formed deep under the ground by the extreme heat of the earth’s interior and there it had been confined. Then, in an attempt at freedom, it had gradually melted its way upwards towards the earth’s surface. Not it was almost there. With great surges of energy, the gasses in the magma strained against the sides of the cavity in a frenzied attempt to blast open a vent in the mountain through which it could escape. Vesuvius strained under the tremendous pressure but continued to hold out. Occasionally the forces became so strong that the whole countryside trembled. It would only be a matter of time.

Blissfully unaware of Vesuvius’ agony, the slumbering town of Pompeii was on the verge of awakening. Along her narrow and almost deserted roads, a small band of sleepy-eyed clients made their way to their patron’s residence. In the patricians’ houses, slaves had already been up for hours, sweeping, dusting and polishing. Bedrooms were also alive with activity as maids groomed their ladies using combs, hairpins, mirrors and perfumes. Then, after the hair had been coiffured into elaborate styles, make up was applied – chalk and white lead to the skin, rouge to the lips and cheeks and black ash to eyelids and plucked eyebrows. The men of the houses had also awoken. A brisk wash with cold water, a simple attire and a hastily eaten light breakfast and they were ready to face the day. Then they went out to meet their clients who were waiting patiently.

Along the streets, the shopkeepers began to open their shops, preparing themselves for morning customers. Vendors, meanwhile, set up their make shirt stands and arranged their wares as always. There was nothing unusual about this day. It seemed destined to be like any other.

It is true that for several days now, mild earth tremors had been felt in the region, but in this zone they were not at all unusual. Besides, in comparison with the disastrous earthquake of 17 years earlier, they seemed slight and insignificant. The fact that the wells in the countryside had suddenly dried up was not a cause for concern. August was a hot and dry month and there was nothing rare about dry wells at that time of the year. It was to be expected and there was no shortage of water as an aquaduct from the mountains continued to supply it. Thus life went on as it always did.

Pompeii was in one of her gayest moods. It was the anniversary of the long dead Emperor Augustus and a festival celebrating this occasion had been in progress for days. Schools had been closed and, as part of the festivities, a series of plays was being held in the Theatre. Mornings were reserved for rehearsals. The festival attracted many to the city and as the morning progressed and the heat mounted, the roads leading to Pompeii began to stream with summer vacationers and peasants who had come to see the sights. Also present were numerous carts and other horse driven conveyances, each carrying commercial wares towards the city. One such cart was packed with fish, freshly caught near the Sarnus River mouth early that morning. Another contained olives and grapes, produced on a farm in the region.

Outside all the major gates of the city were lines of hawkers and vendors making the most of the good business. On sale were coral charms for potency, grapes, melons, glass trinkets, sulphur matches, sandals and shoes, votive images and numerous other items. Many of the produce carrying vehicles that arrived at the gates were too large to enter the narrow streets of the city. They were stopped outside and immediately a band of slaves set to work, unloading and transferring the cargo to smaller two wheeled carts and, in that form, it was delivered to its destination. The streets of Pompeii itself was bustling with activity. They were crammed with carts, litters, workmen, pedlars and citizens of every kind. All the shops had been open for hours and were displaying their wares while snack bars sold edible delicacies and hot drinks. Other shops selling grain, fruit and cloth also served customers. In one of the food shops, meat and poultry were suspended from the bar over the entrance and large earthenware pots, built into the counter of the shop, contained a variety of foodstuffs.

Along many pavements, street musicians played their instruments and the music they made, coupled with shouts of encouragement from passing pedestrians all added to the din and bustle.

In one of the streets, nestled between two shops, was a religious shrine. Above it were paintings of the Gods to whom it was dedicated and as people walked past, they offered sacrifices on a small altar. At the corner of the street, at one of the public fountains, poor women collected water in jugs while, nearby, a group of young boys waged mock gladiator fights.

In one of the many bakeries in Pompeii, an ass, its eyes covered by blinkers, plodded in endless circles as it turned a stone mill to grind flour. Braying in protest against its harness, it flicked away flies with its tail. In another room a baker kneaded dough into round loaves which he transferred into a hot oven. That the bread would turn out a success was assured – the phallic emblem over the oven would protect it.

Meanwhile, in all the small workshops, activity was at its morning peak. In cloth factories, women were weaving wool into material at the loom while fullers were busy at their vats, treating the cloth in solutions of pot ash, fuller’s earth and human urine, treading it under foot and finally stretching, brushing and trimming it into shape. Elsewhere mosaicists were busy with their tesserae – pieces of glazed stone and glass. Carpenters were hammering, sawing and shaping their wood with lathes. Marble workers were cutting and polishing polychrome marble and alabaster, while a tinker repaired a broken pot in his forge. A plumber plugged a leaking pipe and a wheelwright fixed a buckled rim.

The forum, busy as usual, was jammed with people who had come to do their chores or socialize. Ladies passed in litters borne by slaves or, if on foot, were protected from the sun by green parasols carried by their maids. Pedlars moved about bawling out the good value of their wares and next to one of the buildings, a professional scribe mounted a ladder to write a public notice on the wall. Along all the walls were numerous other written notices from past times. Games at the amphitheatre, forthcoming elections and theatrical plays were all advertised and graffiti had also been written, in a variety of scrawls, by ordinary citizens recording lost property and accommodation to let, amongst other things. There were also love messages, crude jokes and witty remarks galore.

Towering high above the scene rose the forum’s colonnades. Supported by columns of white marble, they surrounded the forum on three sides, giving it a characteristic narrow, oblong appearance. Below the colonnades, in their shadow, citizens mingled, enjoying relief from the heat, and hawkers set up their stands.

At every open entrance to the forum’s enclosure, rows of upright stones served as effective barriers to vehicles. Thus citizens walked without fear of being run over.

In the open part of the forum stood numerous statues of famous Romans and notable citizens. Among them a marble statue of a Roman senator on horseback glinted in the sunlight. Against it idlers lounged. Dead emperors looked down on them with fixed, lifeless stares.

Surrounding the statues stood temples dedicated to Apollo, Jupiter, Emperor Vespasianus and the city’s guardian spirits. These splendid buildings all added to the forum’s impressive façade.

The Basilica was empty because the law courts were closed during the festivities, but at its steps, gossip-mongers continued to gather. Other of the city’s buildings, including the town hall, treasury and the offices of chief magistrates were also closed.

In the north-eastern corner of the forum was the provision market. Its auction rooms were empty but butchers’ stalls, grocery and fruit shops were sill in operation. In the middle of the market’s porticoed space stood a twelve sided, domed building – the fish market. Inside the fishmonger gutted fish while, nearby, his helper prepared the first stages of his garnus sauce. First he mixed the entrails of sardines with finely chopped portions of fish, roe and eggs, then he pounded, crushed and stirred it into a homogeneous pulp.

Meanwhile, the men’s section of the forum’s baths had opened and assistants aided early comers to undress. Men lay down on marble slabs while slaves rubbed them down with oil scraping away impurities using blunt edged strigils. Nearby masseurs were hard at work, massaging skin and muscles. In the palaestra, naked men exercised in the sun, throwing balls, wrestling or fencing with wooden swords. All over, friends greeted one another with delighted shouts. The din was tremendous. In the caldarium, men sat or wallowed in steaming water while next door, in the frigidarium, a boy plunged into the circular bath of cold water. Nearby, a group of young bloods laughed over the latest amatory drawings on the white plastered walls.

As the morning lengthened, lunchtime approached. In patrician houses the slaves were busy in the shaded dining rooms, setting tables for the light luncheon that Romans preferred. The streets and forum gradually quietened as people left for their residences and the food that awaited them.

The inns and taverns around the city began to fill up. People from all the lower walks of the community gathered there to eat, drink, gamble and flirt with the slave girls who acted as waitresses. In rooms above the inns, ladies of easy virtue entertained their clients. The mood was festive and jolly.

Meanwhile the tinker had finished repairing his pot and was admiring his work. Elsewhere a man bit hungrily into a freshly baked roll. Suddenly, without warning, a violent crack split the air. The earth heaved and shook. Buildings swayed; tables collapsed and food spewed over the floors; statues and pillars toppled. The yellow sunlight turned abruptly to a grey overcast. Deafening roars reverberated around the countryside as people rushed, panic-stricken, into the street. Children wailed hysterically. Women screamed in terror. It was the seventh hour; the holocaust had begun.

The pressure of Vesuvius had reached climatic heights, so much so, that she had been unable to hold out. With an agonized, shattering, bull-like roar, she had exploded. Gases rushed through opened vents like water through a pipe. The newly formed crater vomited red hot boulders. Then followed a continuous rushing upward blast of friction pounded stones, cinders, ash and pumice. (1) Hurled into the air, the debris billowed into a gigantic mushroom shaped cloud which blocked the light of the sun. The world was plunged into darkness.

Then, overcome by its immense weight, the cloud scattered and opened up into branches which plummeted earthwards.

Next, the crater belched forth torrents of scorching steam which condensed and, combined with sea spray in the air, produced downpours which churned up the lava surface into a boiling mass of mud. This formed a torrid, treacly river which poured down the mountain into the countryside below. Meanwhile, showers of pumice were falling over Pompeii and red-hot, they burned or pitted everything they touched. Blackened stones and cinders, charred and cracked by the intense heat of the volcano, also rained down. Then came blankets of hot, suffocating ash and lethal gases.

Total chaos prevailed as hundreds of people rushed in the direction of the city gates and the open countryside beyond. Others hid in their houses, hoping that they would be safe, only to find that they were trapped. A few tried to save their precious belongings and paid for them with their lives while others frantically unharnessed horses and mules from carts and mounted them. All along the streets people collapsed under hails of pumice and were trampled in the darkness. The stench of sulphur permeated the air while ash clogged nostrils and mouths. A man fell to his knees and with his hands clasped over his face, choked to death. Nearby, a father lifted himself onto an arm and attempted to crawl towards his children but by the time he reached them, they had been consumed under a blanket of hot ash. All around pillars and masonry crashed to the ground.

In a certain house in Pompeii, the house of Euphebe, a man strained under the weight of his favourite statue as he frantically moved it from the garden to the atrium. There he covered it, protectively, in cloth. He died doing so.

Not far away, in the house of Cryptoporticus, a mother, with her tiny daughter in her arms, took refuge in an underground room. When it became unbearably hot, she squeezed through a skylight into the garden. There she was struck down, her child pinned underneath her.

Outside the house of Sallust, a mistress and her three maids fled for their lives, clutching jewellery, money and a silver mirror. As the mistress collapsed in a crumpled heap, the belongings she carried flew in all directions.

Meanwhile, in the house of Menander, slaves discovered that the front door was jammed. Realising that the roof was their only chance of escape, they charged for the stairs but ten died before they could reach them. The lone survivor made it to the second storey only to realize it was a death-trap. Desperate and panic stricken, he struck at a wall with a hammer in a frenzied attempt to break through but it was to no avail and eventually, he collapsed with exhaustion and death overtook him.

At a tavern, gladiators abandoned their drinks and fled for the gates, leaving their trumpets behind. They were more fortunate than over sixty of their colleagues who died in the gladiators’ barracks. Nearby, a man mounted a horse, already laden with clothes, food and valuables. With a pitiful scream, the horse toppled. Neither it, nor its rider ever rose again.

In a villa, just outside Pompeii, thirty four occupants took refuge in an underground vault. By taking bread, food and a goat with them, they prepared themselves for a long stay. And a long stay it was. For over 19 centuries passed before they emerged.

In one of the rooms of Publoius Paquius Proculus, seven children cowered in terror as the ceiling above them creaked and groaned under a tremendous strain. Suddenly it gave way and with a resounding roar, came down to meet them.

The Temple of Isis also began to collapse and priests grabbed priceless temple treasures and fled for safety. One fell at the corner of Via dell ‘ Abbondanza while the others managed to reach the triangular forum. There they were obliterated by crashing columns and their costly emblems scattered.

Nearby, in the house of Vesonius Primus, howls of agony and terror reverberated from wall to wall, as a dog struggled desperately against a chain. Through a hole in the ceiling, thick, hot ash showered into the room and piled up. Eventually, contorted in a grotesque position, the animal came to rest and was still.

In the southern part of the city, thousands of screaming, jostling people crammed through the gates and made their way towards the coast. Escape by sea was their only chance of survival. It was pitch black. Occasionally writhing, snake-like flashes of electricity darted across the sky, lighting the way, but only for seconds at a time. People collapsed like flies but many managed to struggle to their feet again and with desperate courage, they stumbled on, fighting exhaustion all the way …..

Hours had passed since the first violent crack had shattered the peace. Ash continued to rain down onto Pompeii in unrelenting showers but the terrified screams that had coursed through her were now silent. The frantic cries for help had ended. The hysterical crowds that had rushed, panic stricken, in all directions had disappeared. Even the bodies that had strewn the streets were no longer visible but covered under blankets of ash. No one stirred. Nothing moved. Pompeii was dead.

EPILOGUE

Daylight returned two days later. Only then was the shocking extent of the destruction revealed – the great cone of Vesuvius, that had stood so proud, was now a ragged stump. The countryside, once lush and green, and dotted with towns, farms and magnificent villas was a grey barren wilderness of ash. A deathly quiet hung over the land like a shroud. Where Pompeii had stood, only the tops of tall buildings and pillars emerged.

As the weeks passed, pathetic groups of survivors crept back to the site in search of the bodies of their loved ones and their lost possessions. They burrowed in the ash but it was to no avail. Eventually they went away to mourn.

Gradually, over the years, a new level of soil built up. The protruding ruins collapsed and Pompeii totally disappeared from sight. Slowly she was erased from human memory. The writings concerning her were lost or destroyed. Even her name was forgotten. It was as if the lost city of Vesuvius had never been.

School Essay (age 17)

Science, Technology and a Limited Planet
G. Myburgh

In a topic of this nature, it is essential, I believe, to be objective. Writing as an individual human being, it is inevitable that one will be influenced by personal sentiment and the sentiment of others. This often blinds one from reality. We, as humans, were born into a modern technological world and we therefore, having never known it any other way, take the world as it is for granted. As a result, the true significance and seriousness of our situation is often not appreciated. It is far better to approach the subject as an outsider, free of all sentiment, looking down onto the world and human race from afar.

To see today’s technological world in the right perspective, it is essential to reconstruct what the world was like before. We know that man, whatever anyone may like to believe, had very humble origins. Homo sapiens evolved like all other plants and animals from simple organisms. This process took countless millions of years and he appeared in his present form only 2 million years ago. In early times, he was totally dependent on nature for his survival. He was, in fact, part of nature, just one of numerous species struggling to survive, that fitted into the world’s ecology. Nature was in perfect balance and all the world’s resources were constantly recycled so that nothing was ever lost. Then man gradually began to develop an awareness of his own self and an intelligence, greater than any other animal. As a result, he became very successful as a species and his numbers grew.

Then man reached a stage where he became ashamed of his origins. He refused to accept that he was just another species of animal and he chose to forget his part in nature. He covered his body, the body that nature had given him, with clothes and what is more, reminded him of his humble origins, such as sex and excretion, he became ashamed of. He eventually came to believe that he was totally above nature, convincing himself that the world had been created by a divine being and that, he himself had been placed on it with a special purpose. In other words, the earth and all that was on it, had been made specifically for him and his pleasure. He could do what he wanted with it. It was thus, that he began to plunder the earth’s resources, choosing to ignore all the natural laws that had dictated to him and all other species on the planet for so long.

And so came the era of science and technology. Man discovered immense new sources of power and he invented engines, electricity, machines, tools and numerous other things. Spurred on by his success, he became obsessed with his inventions and strove to discover more and more. Huge factories and industries came into being and man needed natural resources to feed his ambitions. These he plundered from the earth, snatching away vast quantities of coal, oil and timber. He took more and more but never bothered to put anything back and resources which had seemed limitless, rapidly dwindled. All natural laws he ignored and the delicate balances of nature, balances which had existed for millions of years, were shattered. But man did not see it. His obsession blinded him and drove him on. As he became more and more successful, he became more convinced of his superiority over all other species.

Man began to achieve his wildest dreams. He gained the power of flight and even managed to walk on the moon. He invented new warfare weapons, weapons which could destroy whole populations. He discovered medicine which could prolong human life so that everyone had the chance to suffer the indignities of old age – and man clapped his hands in glee and said proudly that he was bettering the quality of life, and as he said it, the world’s population soared and poverty, suffering and hunger increased to staggering proportions. As the population grew, man’s cities spread out; huge grotesque worlds of concrete and steel which devoured everything in its path, including natural ecosystems which had taken millions of years to develop. Pollution levels also rose as man pumped deadly chemicals into the atmosphere, soiled the rivers with his filth and the sea with his oil.

Then some individuals opened their eyes. They saw how man was ignoring all natural laws, how he was destroying the balances of nature which had to be maintained for the survival of all species. They saw how he was devouring the earth’s precious resources and how his population was rising – and they realized that he was approaching disaster. They cried out in warning and asked him to consider the future, if not for himself, then for his children – but he was too concerned with his own ambitions. Many did in fact, express concern, but they allowed themselves to forget and they did nothing. Some also believed that it was not their problem and that when man did pay the consequences for his actions, they would be in the safety of their graves. Many simply did not appreciate the seriousness of the situation and others still, believed that after the world had been so badly misused as to be rendered inhabitable, a supreme, loving God would step in to save them from all peril.

In conclusion, we are compelled to ask the question, “What is the solution?” That we cannot say however we can step in the right direction. First we have to realize that, as humans, we are solely responsible for our problems and it is ultimately we who must pay the consequences. We also have to stop denying that anything is wrong with our planet. Unless we acknowledge that the problem exists, we cannot solve it. We must also curb our arrogance and cease feeling superior to nature. There is no denying we are part of it and it is in this field that our main responsibilities lie. Responsibilities which we have shirked for far too long. Ignoring nature’s basic and logical principles and laws is, I believe, our ultimate failure. We must conserve what we have, not just for our children but also for the human race as a whole and for all the other species which share our limited planet.

School Reports

Reports from my school years. As you can see, I was a very hard working student and I did well at school although it took its toll in the form of anxiety before tests and exams.

Vista Nova

Graeme has settled down exceptionally well at Vista Mara. He is a very hardworking conscientious pupil. His work is always beautifully done. He enjoys stories and remembers them well. It is a great pleasure to teach him. / J.A. Robson

Teacher’s Report:

Graeme has done excellent work throughout the year. He has been a delightful pupil to teach. I wish him well at his new school next year. / J.A. Robson



St George’s Grammar School


Sub B – 1978 Term 1

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme has settled into Sub. B very well. He seems to prefer being on his own in ‘free’ activity periods, either drawing or reading but happily integrates when he feels the need for company. He is a very neat worker and sets a high standard for himself. His arithmetic and story writing are good as is his reading which has improved considerably. He puts a lot of effort into his sporting activities always trying to do better. I am very pleased with Graeme’s progress. / S.A. Allen


Sub B – 1978 Term 2

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme must be admired for the way in which he has worked in spite of his problems with his legs in plaster and his wheelchair. He has worked with the minimum of fuss and has maintained his high standard in all subjects. Well done Graeme!   S.A. Allen.

Principal’s comments:

I’m most impressed with Graeme’s mature attitude. He remains quiet and conscientious with a good inspiration. He is able to mix easily with others. This has been good progress for Graeme.  C. Hodge

General Report:

Graeme is a mature, quiet boy with a good sense of responsibility. He is always helpful and polite and he communicates well with adults. He has shown great strength of character over his handicap this term. He has shown the minimum of fuss and has continued in as normal manner as he is able. Well done! Because he has a good organizing ability, he sometimes tends to organize others. He must watch this habit. He is an asset to Shaw House. / Jenny Mallett.


Sub B – 1978. Term 3

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme continues to work to the best of his ability and with the minimum of fuss. His reading, story writing and arithmetic are all of a very high standard and he is always keen to do more to improve them still further. He has become a little withdrawn this term and has preferred being on his own. Perhaps when he is able to take part in sporting activities once again, he will start mixing more readily with the other boys.  S.A. Allen.


Sub B – 1978. Term 4

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme is a quiet, neat, conscientious worker and is content with nothing but the best. He prefers his own company and this is happily accepted by the other boys who respect him for it. He has twice been elected Vice Captain and has coped quietly and efficiently with his duties. Well done Graeme.  S.A. Allen.

General Report:

Graeme has done extremely well considering he was virtually out of action for a term with both legs in plaster. Graeme is a quiet, polite boy who is as happy working on his own as in groups. He tries his hardest at sport and he never complains. He throws and catches a ball very well. He has good hand eye co-ordination and he bats well. He seems to tire easily in the swimming bath and although he can manage all 4 strokes, he struggles with the style. I look forward to seeing him in more Shaw House activities next year.  Jenny Mallett.

Graeme has had a fine year and is now ready to leave the kindergarten and enter Std. 1 where I hope that he will continue to give of his best.  J.A. Dods.


Std. 1 – 1979. Term 1

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme settled down quickly and easily to a new and longer routine.

He is a steady worker who always produces work of a high standard. His hand control is good and his handwriting is well formed and beautifully neat. It is a pleasure marking his books.

I am pleased with all Graeme’s work. His reading continues to be fluent and his stories are interesting and well written. He must take care with punctuation.

Graeme is attentive and co-operative. He finds new work a challenge and becomes totally absorbed in work which interests him.


Std. 1 – 1979. Term 2

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme is an industrious worker, always giving of his best in whatever work he does. He is very quiet and settles down easily to work. Graeme uses his spare time constructively and no amount you ask him to do is too much. I am very pleased with his results which reflect hard work and effort. It is a pleasure having Graeme in my class.  A.G. Basson.

Graeme continues to make good progress both in and out of the classroom.  G. Dods.

General Report:

Graeme is an extremely hard working boy. He tries hard in the classroom and on the sports field. He is a capable youngster and he is a popular member of the Std 1 class. He is quiet and he still prefers playing in small groups. He is always polite and helpful. Graeme has a fine sense of humour which bubbles out most satisfyingly! He has been a regular member of the Barefoot League where he always gives of his best. He runs hard and tackles well.  Jenny Mallett.


Std. 1 – 1979. Term 4

Teacher’s comments:

Graeme has had an excellent six months academically. I was especially pleased with his outstanding maths and science papers.

His new cursive handwriting is neat and well formed and he takes care to maintain this high standard not only in the writing lessons but in all his written work.

Congratulations on an excellent report. I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching such a conscientious youngster. A.G. Basson.

This has been a first class year and he so richly deserved the Industry Award. Well done.  J.A. Dods.

General Report:

Graeme has taken part in both swimming and cricket. His greatest asset is his constant striving to better himself and to improve in whatever he is taking part in. Well done Graeme. In swimming, he has worked hard and his crawl style has improved one a width. He tends to lose all style when racing over a length but this will come with more practice. He is an enthusiastic cricketer with a good eye for the ball and he is always awake in the field. I am delighted with Graeme’s progress and he has had an extremely successfully year.  Jenny Mallett.


Std. 2 – 1980. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme’s interests cover a large spectrum. He is an extremely conscientious worker in the classroom, he plays hard on the rugby field and once he is confidence of his position, he enjoys it. He is enjoying his singing in the choir and he enjoys his Art and Drama lessons. Graeme is a responsible youngster and he is always polite and helpful. He has done well to keep his place in the U10 rugby team as there are many enthusiastic youngsters longing for a game. He drives well in rugby and he is learning to get the ball back to his backline. He must learn to be a little quicker to the loose ball so that St Georges wins the ball and not the opposition! Graeme has had a good half year.  Jenny Mallett.

Graeme continues to make very good progress in all aspects of school life. Well done.  G.A. Dods.


Std. 2 – 1980. Term 4

General Report:

Graeme is a mature polite and reliable boy. He needs to do well and he still becomes anxious if he feels he is letting anyone down. However, he is learning to control his natural nervousness and he is now able to look on the light side as well as the serious. He has had a very full year. He is a member of the choir and he has thoroughly enjoyed the involvement. He has played cricket and squash. He has chosen to go to extra cricket coaching with Mr Leary. We hope to reap the benefit of this experience in the U11 cricket squad next term. He is a beginner at squash. He has learned the basics and is thoroughly enjoying the competition and the exercise. Graeme has had a very successful year in Std 2 and I have enjoyed teaching him.  Jenny Mallett.

Graeme is to be commended for an excellent term’s work. He is a credit to his school. Graeme has been promoted to Standard three.  S. Anderson.


Std. 3 – 1981. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme is a well adjusted, hard working, amiable boy with an enquiring mind and a sensible disposition. Everything he does he does well. His behaviour is always good and when given responsibility he has taken it seriously and carried it out intelligently. In short, Graeme is a pleasure to work with.

His contribution to the choir is to be commended. He has shown himself to be an enthusiastic, loyal and hard working member and he is to be congratulated on his excellent performance in the recent Eisteddfod.

On the sports field, Graeme has done well. He has proved to have a keen sense of competition within the confines of a good sense of sportsmanship. His swimming and athletics performances were more than pleasing. He will have to work hard at perfecting his high jump technique so as to enable him to break the record next year. It is certainly well within his capabilities. His rugby is also pleasing. In the opinion of his coach he is one of the top three players in his team.

In short, Graeme has worked hard, played hard and is a pleasure to work with. An excellent report. Graeme is a credit to his school.


Std. 4 – 1982. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme is a mature reliable pupil but he still gets into a panic when things don’t run smoothly, but he is learning how to cope with this. He produced an excellent performance in the high jump in the athletics meeting winning the U12 section with a record jump. It seems that whatever sport he participates in, he always gives of his best – in swimming, athletics, squash or rugby.

He is erratic at squash, sometimes everything goes right for him but occasionally he doesn’t get his feet into the correct position. He has done well to play in the U13 rugby team and has developed into a good No. 2 line-out jumper. An enthusiastic choir member –as one can see he participates fully in all aspects of school life. Hopkins (House Master)

Graeme is to be congratulated on some excellent academic results. I note with pleasure the “A” aggregate for both term and exam results. He is a very interested pupil who strives for efficiency. Well done.  S. Anderson.


Std. 5 – 1983. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme’s main sport in the first term was swimming, but he had to compete in the U14 age group in the gala which he found difficult. He enjoyed the competition of the Gordon’s Gala in Newlands although the distance was too much for him. He is always a conscientious swimmer and trains hard at practices.

He has had a very good athletics season, concentrating mainly on the high jump and long jump and he won both events in the school athletics tournament. Again the hard work and effort he put into it and the help he gave others is very praiseworthy indeed!

He has been a good counselor and a regular member of the school choir and he recently won a diploma in the Eisteddfod for singing. Very well done!  K.M. Hopkins.

An excellent academic report. Well done! Graeme is a credit to his school.  S. Anderson


Std. 5 – 1983. Term 4

General Report:

Graeme has had an excellent year all round. He has done very well as a counselor and he gained rugby, academic and athletics colours. He played the main lead as “Huck Finn” in Tom Sawyer last term and did extremely well in a role that was very unlike his natural character. (I hope he hasn’t taken up the art of smoking)!

He has been swimming this term and although he tries very hard, he tires easily. He must practice his breast-stroke for the inter-house gala next term.

He has been a prominent member of the school choir this year and made an excellent prepared speech in the speech competition. Congratulations also on winning the award for the “Most Determined Rugby Player in the Prep School”. We are delighted to hear he is staying at St George’s and we wish him every success in his senior school career.  K.M. Hopkins

An excellent academic report. Well done Graeme! He has been promoted to Standard Six.  S. Anderson.


Std. 6 – 1984. Term 4

General Report:

Graeme is a very intense and determined young man in everything that he does. During the year in the sports arena he has played tennis and water polo.

He also represented his house in a number of the track and field events of sports day. On the rugby field he was a most tenacious flank.

He is making good progress as a swimmer particularly at breast-stroke.

He entered the Mini Maths Olympiad earlier this year and is a keen hamster breeder and stamp collector. S. Howard.

His examination results are most satisfactory. He is very near the top of this very able and highly competitive class.


Std. 7 – 1985. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme displays an impressive array of talents over a wide spectrum – athletics (high jump, long jump), plays rugby, has received academic commendations and is involved in cultural affairs. All very good.

He is a personable and likeable young fellow who has many things in store for him. An asset to Shaw House and the School.  B. Sneddon (House Master).

This is a most satisfactory report. He has worked and played as hard as he is able and has achieved considerable success in a number of areas. C. Connor (Headmaster)


Std. 8 – 1986. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme is a good example of an all-rounder. It is very pleasing to note his sporting attributes (U16 high jump record), his rugby, his participation in the Maths Olympiad, Eisteddfod and his success in gaining commendations for every half term so far. A credit to Shaw House. B. Sneddon (House Master)

Excellent examination results which reflect both his ability and effort. He has performed most creditably. In every way, an asset to the school. C. Cannon (Headmaster)


Std. 8 – 1986. Term 4

General Report:

Another pleasing year for Graeme with sound indications of a wide involvement in many facets of the school life.

He swims, has gained many commendations, took part in the Maths afternoon at UCT and did well in athletics and took a leading role in one of the school plays.

Many congratulations on his industry and acting prizes and keep up the good work.  B. Sneddon (House Master)

This is a very good report in every way, both academically and extramurally, he is to be congratulated on his effort and commitment. He is an asset to the school.  S. Canoon (Headmaster)


Std. 9 – 1987. Term 2

General Report:

Graeme gives of his best in all that he does here at school and this half year has been no exception.

It has been edifying to see him excel at sport (athletics), drama, integrated studies and of course his school work.

He is always courteous and well mannered and is an asset to St George’s. B. Sneddon House Master

One or two of his examination percentages were unusually low for him. He is intelligent enough to know what went wrong and will, I am sure, rectify the situation by the end of the year. In all other ways, he has had a good half year. S. Cannon (Head Master)


Std. 9 – 1987. Term 4

General Report:

Another good year for him. He has made steady progress in his school work, achieving a commendable 73% aggregate in the end of year exams. He did exceptionally well in his favourite sport, high jumping.

I trust that 1988 will bring him many rewards for all his efforts. B. Sneddon (House Master)

His academic results have again been most satisfactory and reflect his tremendous commitment to hard work. The small “sets” in the matriculation class next year will increase his chances of gaining excellent symbols at the end of the year.  C. Cannon  Head Master


Std. 10 – 1988. Term 4

General Report:

Graeme was called upon very early in the year to shoulder the load of House Prefect. I shall not forget his unhesitating acceptance of the position and his sincere dedication to the task. My sincere thanks to him.

He has above all been the kind of young man who really has pitched in to a lot of what this school offers. He has shone however, as an athlete using his springy legs to good effect is the high jump year by year.

His academic work has been impressive through the years I’ve known him. He has a wide ranging ability and I rejoice that he gained the Special Latin Prize. Good luck and God speed for the years ahead.  B. Sneddon (House Master)

The way he stepped into the breach and became Head of Shaw and his work as one of the School Prefects gained him the admiration of all.

As a person this year, he was articulate and thoughtful, amusing and concerned about the welfare of others. I have greatly enjoyed working with him and thank him for his contribution to school life. He leaves with my very good wishes for the future. S. Connor (Head Master)

Mauritius (during final year at school)

In my matric year at school, the family went on holiday to Mauritius. My main memory is of a yacht cruise on my birthday where I unfortunately got very sea sick!  Other than that, it was a wonderful, relaxing holiday that put me into the right state of mind for my final school exams.

Birding books I used and loved

 

School Essays

The Beat of the Drum

Detective Rollo was extremely perturbed. He was working on a rather strange case involving twelve people who had mysteriously disappeared, one after the other, over a period of just two weeks. It had taken several days of long hours for him to trace the disappearances but after an almost endless amount of enquiring, he came to a most disturbing conclusion. Every single one of the twelve had been seen signing into Room 113 of the Silver Flag Hotel just before they had disappeared. Rollo realized that the only way to solve the case was to spend a night in the uncanny room.

It was late by the time he arrived. He sat on the low bed which lay beside a huge, ugly cupboard clothed in thick cobwebs. The clock struck midnight and then it suddenly began. He could distinctly hear the continuous beat of a drum which started quietly, picked up temp and rose to a deafening crescendo. The throb began to penetrate into his mind and he felt an icy dizziness creep through him. Clamping his hands over his ears, Rollo staggered over to the cupboard from where the beat seemed to be coming from, like a wounded animal. The moon, shining through the curtains cast eerie shadows over it as he grasped the handle.

It opened with a creak. Rollo, looking into the darkness, screamed in terror as a massive slimy puffy arm reached out and pulled him into the emptiness. He could not breathe as the creature scratched and strangled him. Its breath stank and the yellow teeth gleamed dangerously. Rollo blacked out. It lowered its head down and taking a sucking gasp, bit deep into the detective’s neck. The beat of the drum was no longer audible. The only sound to be heard in the silent room was the crunching as the monster chewed flesh and bones to a fine powder.

Only when every drop of blood had been consumed did it finish its meal. Then with a contented sigh, it stretched out its disgusting limb and after closing the creaking door, lay patiently awaiting its next unwary victim.



The Suffering of World War I

Pete lay crumpled and exhausted in a sticky pool of perspiration and blood in the depths of the gloomy, stinking trench. The hoarse breathing of the other British infantry men continued in a constant pattern as he peered at the eerie shadows cast by the moon. He felt his limbs gradually tighten as the sun began her slow accent into the sky. Dawn was near and another gory day veiled in misery and suffering was about to begin.

The thundering and rumbling of the pounding artillery began as the waves of soldiers increased the tensions on their triggers and clouds of black smoke rose above them. Enemy planes roamed the morning skies and poured bombs onto the allies as they dived down onto the helpless infantry like birds attacking worms on concrete.

Pete crouched quivering like a hunted animal as the continuous thundering of the exploding bombs began to penetrate his terrain and clasping his hands over his head, he wept. The excruciating pain in his wounded chest seemed to increase and as he doubled over, ricocheting bullets tore the earth apart by his side. He completely panicked and using the butt of his gun as a weapon, he shoved his way through the crowds making his way along the trench.

A putrefying body caused Pete to trip and he fell over the stinking carcass. He lay there, not daring to move. The never ending combat continued and within a couple of hours, the battle field was a mass of writhing and suffering injured.

Then it came – silent, greenish yellow oceans of deadly enveloping chlorine gas swirled about the trench and men could soon be seen reeling about and dropping in their tracks.

Pete’s eyeballs began to protrude and he clutched his throat, choking as he ran. He began to vomit with his throat and eyes burning and eventually collapsed into the dirt and blacked out under a mount of carcasses.

Pete was just one of thousands to die that day. So many men lose their lives but to what avail?



Escape from the Germans

I awoke in the early hours with a strong premonition that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noise which had disturbed my sleep, it was the silence.

I could not hear all the familiar sounds which I had come to know so well – prisoners chatting, the lighting of pipes, the commands of German guards and the snoring of those still asleep. This was different. A feeling of freedom surrounded me – a feeling of not being confined between four solid walls and a locked door. I was lying in the country. It was only yesterday that I had escaped from a German Prison of War Camp and my enemies were close on my trail.

Then it came. The fatal sound of hundreds of German military boots trampling the ground towards me. They had caught up. The footsteps came closer and I crouched in my hiding place paralyzed with fear while my pursuers marched on. Soon I could hear their deep, hoarse breathing and realizing that they would find me sooner or later, made a run for it.

The Germans saw me and shots ricocheted from all directions as I dodged through the trees. Exhaustion overcame me and as I stumbled and tripped all the time, the gap between us shortened dramatically. Like a tortured snail, I crawled on. There was no escape. I was doomed. The soldiers were playing with me now. They were so close behind all they had to do was pull the trigger and I would not have had a chance at all but they wanted me to suffer and they were succeeding.

Suddenly a river loomed before me. Water roared down a gulley in the mountain. Looking down into the heaving waters I realized this was my only chance of escape. Plucking up courage I jumped into the swirling current.

Hours later I awoke, my legs in the icy water, my back hunched on a sharp ledge of rock. My head was throbbing and my forehead and legs were covered with dry, caked blood. However I ignored my wounded limbs and head. I had just escaped from the utmost horror – the Germans. I was free.

Strolling along the shore, the silence continued to disturb me. Suddenly I heard an unexpected crack of a rifle and I could feel the deadly impact of a bullet in my stomach. Gasping for breath I fell into the dirt and all went black.

My first SLR camera: A Minolta X-300

Here is the first camera I ever owned. I was 16, I think, in Std 9 at school. I went to a photography course after buying it which I loved.

Birding binoculars and telescope

When I was in Std 9 (16 years old), I took up bird watching. I inherited some really nice binoculars from Grandpa with a zoom lever. I can't remember the exact optical specs but I see to remember they went up to 30x and had a nice field of view. I also was gifted a telescope with a fixed 60x magnification. 

Christmas Memories

To be honest, I wasn't always the greatest fan of Dad's video camera that used to come out every Christmas. It made me feel a bit self conscious and "on show". But now, twenty years later, I am so thankful that he took the footage. In so doing, Dad recorded some of the precious family rituals and memories that I hold most dear.

This includes opening of our Christmas presents where we would all sit in the lounge, each with a pile of presents, and open a present, each in turn. Lots of ooohing and aaaahing and thank you's and Gramps always in full force. Dad was always in great form too.

Amongst the special presents, there would also be "funny presents" like Jo's gift of willy warmers (shown here) and Gramps present to dad entitled on the card "For the man who likes a bit on the side." Turned out to be English mustard which he loved.

Another ritual is that each Christmas, we would also meet up with our family friends, the Cullies (Mike, Dorreen, Jane and Wendy) for a deicious Christmas dinner of Turkey and Gammon and all the trimmings. This too is recorded below in a video. 

Precious memories, immortalised thanks to Dad and his video camera.


Opening Christmas presents at home (1986).

Opening Christmas at home (1987)
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Christmas at Epworth Road (Gran and Gramp's place)
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Christmas at the Cullies
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Christmas with the Culleys and Gran and Gramps at Betties Bay
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Christmas 1988.

My first introduction to a modern personal computer

Gordon Howard, our senior school Biology teacher, had one and gave us some fascinating demos of the power of the device. He really understood early on how much they would impact all our lives. 

Our childhood friends, Jane and Wendy

Special memories

• Our family Xmas get togethers - the best of memories 
• Trips to the beach
• Family camping trips to the sea
• Kloofing trips - once you jumped, you couldn´t go back
• Asking Jane to do the Argus on a condom
• Asking Jane to marry me behind the sofa when I was 6 (she said she would think about it)
• Crochet in the garden
• Their Constantia house and lovely pool
• Sted 9 matric dance with Jane
• Std 10 matric dance with Wendy
• Janes matric dance
• Jane introducing me to Phil Collins and Super Tramp (who I still love)
• Fun games in the pool (Marco Polo)
• Gramps entertaining us all