In order to do this photographic challenge, I had to return to the place I had called home for the majority of the 1970s through to the mid-80s – and, for most of that period, it had been my school as well.
My father was a teacher at St Peter’s School in York for nearly 40 years; he also ran a boarding house called The Rise. The task in question was to recreate a favourite photo from yesteryear, and the picture in question featured me and my mother, Anna, sitting on the steps of The Rise – probably not long after my return from college.
In 2016, St Peter’s School was far removed from the establishment where I grew up. I now needed a visitor’s pass to walk around the place where I spent so much of my young life. Most areas of the school were secured by key-code-operated gates and locks, and a number of the buildings I remembered had been replaced by 21st century equivalents.
I kept thinking back to “my day”, when things almost by definition were far better. But in reality, my memories were just a snapshot of a time that would soon be all but forgotten. Perhaps that was no bad thing, given how hard it actually was to grow up in such an unusual environment…
But strolling through the grounds with Mum and Elaine wasn’t the time to dwell on the less pleasant moments and feelings that remained so fresh in my mind despite the intervening decades. The visit was a chance to remember how things used to look, not necessarily how they used to be: the long since demolished air raid shelter, the huts that had been the junior school classrooms, the conker trees that were felled to make way for the sports centre – I’d wager very few remember those. There was the area where we played marbles (‘Hit one, win the lot … your hard luck if it doesn’t reach’), Mrs Wrigley’s tuck shop, the squash court and maintenance workshops that were situated where the new science block now stood…
Now for the photograph…
Well, it wasn’t a faithful recreation, as the heavens chose the worst possible moment to open, and Mum and I had to assume the 32-year old pose while sitting on a jacket instead of a sun-soaked step. We still managed to smile through the downpour.
What the pictures clearly showed was that Mum still looked amazing at 78.
Me?
I got old!
My father was a teacher at St Peter’s School in York for nearly 40 years; he also ran a boarding house called The Rise. The task in question was to recreate a favourite photo from yesteryear, and the picture in question featured me and my mother, Anna, sitting on the steps of The Rise – probably not long after my return from college.
In 2016, St Peter’s School was far removed from the establishment where I grew up. I now needed a visitor’s pass to walk around the place where I spent so much of my young life. Most areas of the school were secured by key-code-operated gates and locks, and a number of the buildings I remembered had been replaced by 21st century equivalents.
I kept thinking back to “my day”, when things almost by definition were far better. But in reality, my memories were just a snapshot of a time that would soon be all but forgotten. Perhaps that was no bad thing, given how hard it actually was to grow up in such an unusual environment…
But strolling through the grounds with Mum and Elaine wasn’t the time to dwell on the less pleasant moments and feelings that remained so fresh in my mind despite the intervening decades. The visit was a chance to remember how things used to look, not necessarily how they used to be: the long since demolished air raid shelter, the huts that had been the junior school classrooms, the conker trees that were felled to make way for the sports centre – I’d wager very few remember those. There was the area where we played marbles (‘Hit one, win the lot … your hard luck if it doesn’t reach’), Mrs Wrigley’s tuck shop, the squash court and maintenance workshops that were situated where the new science block now stood…
Now for the photograph…
Well, it wasn’t a faithful recreation, as the heavens chose the worst possible moment to open, and Mum and I had to assume the 32-year old pose while sitting on a jacket instead of a sun-soaked step. We still managed to smile through the downpour.
What the pictures clearly showed was that Mum still looked amazing at 78.
Me?
I got old!