Vaucluse Boys' High School
Class of 1968
When Vaucluse Boys' High School was opened in 1960 it took as its emblem the nearby Macquarie Lighthouse (designed by convict architect Francis Greenway) and adopted as its motto "Lumen Scientiae" - the Light of Learning - for just as the lighthouse guides ships into the harbour, so the light of learning, as taught at the school, guides its students into the harbour of a secure adulthood.
Crime & Punishment
Everyone is requested at all times to refrain from making offensive references to any person, living or dead, in the context of this group.
JL
Well, there goes the fun!
SB
Looking at the corporal punishment record it could be interesting to share stories or memories of old school times. I recall getting six of the best from the PE teacher for not going to sport for 3 years and it was a fair trade as far as I was concerned. Maybe I was a nerd ahead of my time?
Surely the clincher was Mr Harris commenting at assembly after a Jewish holiday that the playground had never been so clean, which made headlines in The Sun the next day I recall.
Glenn Larner.
I have a memory of Harry Mav, myself and four other disgracefully behaved young men who were in a room with a young Canadian (possibly of Chinese/ Eskimo extraction) teacher who thought it prudent that he apply corporal punishment by caning our hands. I have a feeling he was a temp teacher any way.
I have an idea, that inspired by Harry, each of us refused to put out our hands to receive such meted out punishment. The harder this poor teacher tried to punish us the greater was our steadfast resolution NOT to be punished, especially for some insignificant misdemeanour.
The harder he tried, the redder in the face he became and almost lost complete control over something he had no control over any way. The incident took place in one of the second storey classrooms overlooking Old South Head Road. I don't remember his name but I do remember he (the teacher) was shattered. Can anybody else remember this incident? I believe it to be the last attempt at corporal punishment for those in the HSC year of 1968.
Paul Hoffmann
Paul was right and a champion for refusing to submit to a caning. I was only ever caned once, by Mr Jerebek for forgetting to bring my vocab book. I regret submitting to that assault. I regret not politely refusing as Paul did. If I could rewind and face that situation again I would fast-track the inevitable more serious consequences and go as far as I had to to publicise and bring an end to that gross misconduct.
Fortunately it is now illegal, although rumoured to still be practiced in the dark recesses of Catholic schools and of course it still goes on in Singapore in jails and schools.
In the Age of Aquarius, when anything was possible and even War could be over if we wanted it, it beats me why we tolerated corporal punishment in the classroom.
Cheers, Gary J.
I dont recall any noteworthy expressions from our teachers although I suspect I was the cause of some rich material. The punishment book however, did feature unexpectedly in my later life.
Between 2003 and 2008 I served as Administrator of Warringah Council, following the dismissal of the Council for various reasons. This position takes on the functions of the Mayor and all the councillors, and as such, was often sought out as guest speaker to many community groups. Rotary groups were high on the list, and as in the case of many such groups, someone was usually designated to move a vote of thanks and sometimes a small gift [most commonly a bottle of wine - not much use to a lifelong teetotaller, but Marie always seemed pleased when I brought them home].
After one such presentation to a Rotary Club in Allambie Heights, the mover of the vote of thanks produced a 'small gift' in appreciation. It was a different shape and nicely wrapped. He invited me to unwrap it then and there. He was an old boy from VBH who had attended the 'last day' of our school. In perusing the punishment book he found an entry with what had become a familiar name on the Northern Beaches. My small trophy cabinet now boasts a framed copy from the punishment book of me being caned for truancy.
Truly a memorable moment for me. I think it was Kresner, and as most will recall it took him at least 15 swings to land four.
Thanks to the website for reminding me of this 'fond' memory.
Regards, Dick Persson
Sir,
I think you should have an OWNING UP department where students can confess to misdemeanours. I'd like to know who was responsible for the infamous (teacher's name deleted) graffiti; (admittedly a masterful artistic statement). Anything any student is proud of or embarrassed about, here is the opportunity to confess and put things right.
Regards, Bob Burnstein.
Bob, I am OK with that concept and shall get it underway, but I'll be frank: I have been wondering a fair bit lately if you were not in some way involved in the G.Y.B.O.O.U. outrage. If you'd like to talk about it, my door is always open.
J.
Dear Jon,
This is what I'd like to know about it:
-
Did the artist act alone? Or was he a mere patsy for someone thinking creatively on a higher level?
-
There were no spelling mistakes. That either implies that it was executed by a good speller (we can check), or copied from a pre-written text. If it was from a pre-written text, then the artist may have been able to read which says to me Third Form or above.
-
Do we know that the artist was male, and a student of the school?
-
If a student of the school, was he also a student of the victim? Could he have been a wood-worker or metal-worker acting on hearsay and never once endured an art class with the victim? We know that the artist could use a paintbrush, more-or-less, but did he acquire that pre-cursing skill from the victim, or was someone else with another motive involved?
-
I would like the artist to now come forward. The victim is still at large and still practicing as a 'sculptor'. Even after all these years I suspect that many of us who either witnessed the incident or were affected by it would like some closure.
Cheers, Bob Burnstein.
I got the cane from Mr Kresner on many occasions. Most often he missed, but when he got you across the thumb on a cold day it was no longer fun. He would often begin by calling you something like a useless, senseless, miserable creature or words to that effect. Mr Gill also gave me a fair few sacks, particularly when I referred to the grass as Gill’s weed patch (a commonly used term).
Chris Delaney
There were three “john allens” (not always spelt the same way). One was called in for wagging sport and all three turned up. Two confessed and also got canned – and I escaped!!
John Allen
Goodness me John, we sure got up to some hi-jinx in those days!!
JL
I recall one of the teachers landing a stunner on Pitass and it stopped him in his tracks just as he was about deal out some sort mischief. Wish I could remember it now.
Regards, Peter Funnell
Of the many acts of cruelty and bastardry I witnessed at the school, the one that stands out most in my mind was the time Gill (the [expletive deleted] doesn't deserve a title) set off a starting gun pistol in first year maths class. You can imagine the noise it made! We all jumped!! He didn't do this in the front of the class, oh no. The [expletive deleted] fired it right next to Steve Bentley's ear!!!
Sid Brandon
I still think of him as the perpetrator of more sadistic acts (that I witnessed) than any other person at the school. An A grade sociopath. Then there was an American guy who would come quietly from behind with a wooden ruler held between thumb n forefinger, swung swiftly down edgewise upon one’s unsuspecting n unprotected crown. A clear super saturated technicolour star would appear somewhere in the folds of one’s brain matter. One was a little more mature n wizened for the unsolicited attention of another sociopath.
Then there’s the memory of [student] vs [teacher]. [The student] n a couple of other gentlemen were kindly invited to sit on the floor beneath some large, north facing venetian blinds. That’s when I remember the “me feets r all cramped up” refrain. [The teacher]’s response was to put the cord from the blinds (twisted a few times) around [the student]’s neck n without further a do, yanked the cord. It was a miserable cartoon of a lynching but a lynching none the less. There was no punch up that time. We were abused n made to witness the abuse of others. Welcome to the world boys!
Martin
White/Pittas - the facts
With the untimely departure of the respected Cynthia Watsford to Canberra, Mr Maurice White was appointed Class Patron of 1A in 1963. He was a talented but troubled figure who cultivated an aura of mystique as he taught us the ill-defined subject, “Linguistics”. Towards the end of the year he made a spectacular attempt to establish street-cred in the eyes of his impressionable students. This is how it happened:
School bad boy, Bill Pittas – wearing the customary tight trousers and winkle-pickers – and his friends were making a row outside Room 16. Without authority or justification, Mr White called Pittas in and made him sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the class. After several minutes, and seething with humiliation, Bill stood up.
White: “Sit down.”
Pittas “Me feet are all cramped up.”
White then, shockingly, slapped him across the face. There is a postscript. As part of the end-of-year hi-jinx, Gary and some of his artist mates put together a series of satirical cartoons, lambasting various school personalities. The one of Bill had him erroneously saying, “Me feets is all cramped up”. This artistic licence was forgiven, but not by Bill who, when he learned of its existence, strode into our room, tore it down and shredded it before our eyes.
JL.
Dear Sir,
This is what actually happened. I was feeling a bit crook after eating a dodgy rissole roll from the canteen and made a noise coming up the stairs outside room 16. Mr White came out and enquired if I was feeling OK. I told him I was feeling a bit off colour. He very kindly suggested that I come into the room and sit down for a while where he could keep an eye on me in case I took a turn for the worse.
It was pretty uncomfortabe on the floor. My comb and the thick wallet in my back pocket cut-off the circulation and caused me to lose sensation in my right leg.
What I then said was 'the bloodflow to my feet is restricted'. Mr White helped me up but my leg wasn't working and I stumbled, knocking over several desks as Mr White sought to assist me. Fortunately he slapped me on the face as I was feeling faint; his quick action revived me and quite likely saved me from further injury I might have sustained by hitting my head on a desk.
Mr White then kindly helped me down to the First Aid room where Mrs Bottcher and Mrs Farren made me a cup of tea in a staffmember's glass cup and insisted that I rest as I was quite upset.
Mr White, a caring fellow, sat by my side and read me a story about linguistics until I felt better. Mr Harris suggested I take an earlymark and go home.
Maurie White and I went on to become quite good friends. We occasionally see each other at barbeques and literary meetings in the small but tightly-knit expatriate community here in the département of Vaucluse, situated in the south of France.
He has asked me to extend his regards.
BP
Hi John,
I had a long chat with Bill Pittas this morning. Nice guy: gentle, humble, funny, worldly, polite.
Bill was at the first reunion. We discussed many people jointly remembered. He remembers Maurie White but the Rm 16 incident only very vaguely. Laughed when I told him everyone in that class remembered it very clearly and regarded him as a hero. I filled him in on the details as we all remember them, positioning Bill as having our great respect for standing up to grossly inappropriate and unfair treatment.
Bill worked in a bank after he left school, then as a sales rep ... Worked for fifteen years in Security at Souths. Now retired, happily. Heading off overseas tomorrow morning for six weeks.
He saw Keith Harris some years ago asking for a reference. He said Keith was only too happy to oblige and chatted for some time very cordially. Keith wished him well. Bill commented that man-to-man as adults was infinitely more civilised than the former relationship.
Bill could quote almost word for word some Kresnerisms but remembers that venerated teacher mostly for the canings, and Kresner's craggy face. Noted that caning is no longer tolerated and a good thing that. Bill has my email address and I invited him to make contact on his return from overseas.
Regards, Gary
Dear John.
As you asked for “your thoughts” I am happy to give you mine.
We all experienced different emotional lows and highs while at high school. Some of these were attributable to the teachers.
I had certain levels of respect for a number of teachers at the school and the utmost respect in particular for two of my mathematics teacher; namely Mr. O’Gorman and Mr. Coroneos.
Amongst other teachers for whom I had little respect, I also had no respect for the Principal and the Sports Master. I can recall vividly a time when I told the sportsmaster that I would be unable to represent the school in the Zone Athletics Carnival in high jump as it fell on the Jewish Holiday of Yom Kippur. (For the first 4 years of my high school years I had represented my school and my zone in the high jump event at sports carnivals).
For some reason, he wanted me to tell the headmaster this news myself and he took (marched) me to the headmaster’s office to explain my reason to the principal himself. I never understood then why he did this as I would have thought that my telling him of my inability to compete would have been sufficient, however, for many years I have looked back at his response and have chosen to accept that he simply got off on humiliating students!
This incident was one of the factors that lead me not run for the office of School Prefect!!!
Sid.
Hi John,
Your email is really important. Apart from the risks of any legal action, the real value as far as I am concerned is the connections with others and reminiscing from those VBHS days. The war stories from the past that have been embellished or tarnished with time can be shared verbally when we are together. I am in agreement with you (as the administrator of our site) to vet and filter references in the war stories so that the site and connections fulfill the purpose and intent of creating it.
Keep it coming John and set the rules to ensure that it will keep going - I think some of those other comments may be just the exuberance of old age!
Cheers, Greg Klamus
Stewart: It seems a reasonable question to ask if anyone could be sued for defamation for anything we write here. ... Wikipedia opines that “defamation, also called calumny, vilification, or traducement—is the communication of a false statement that harms the reputation of an individual, (etc).”Note that Wikipedia requires a statement to be false to constitute defamation. It would seem to me that if any of us were to write that "I remember teacher X did whatever to me or my mate and I remember it as abusive”, then it would be extremely difficult for an offended party to show it was false. Being dead would be an additional challenge, one imagines.
John: I imagine the onus would be on the accuser to prove it was true. Some of the "recollections" I have received, personnel (students and teachers alike) have been mixed-up and events embellished. Forty-five year old memories of adolescents are not always reliable. The question is whether some of these reported outrages even happened at all. Law suits and offence are secondary issues.
Stewart: Another issue is the potential value of sharing the unpleasant or traumatic stuff. In this respect, I cannot avoid seeing this through a psychiatrist’s lens. I think it is a healthy thing to be able to express past traumas and share them with one’s colleagues who at least understand, and mostly also suffered similarly to a greater or lesser extent. Doing that helps us to make sense of it as adults. In my mind, there’s no question there was abuse. That’s obvious because the canings and the bullying by teachers is totally unaccepted in today’s schools.
John: I respect that opinion and will therefore publish some of the submitted stories (but, sorry guys, some names and invective will be edited out).
Look what happened to old Rolf Harris. How old the memory is doesn't matter.
Ed Sciberras
PS. I DID mean Rolf not Keith.
OK, here's mine. Our first form group had the privilege of attending a concert at the Town Hall. We weren't enjoying it and left en masse during the show. Word got back to the Boss, who staged an inquisition. Everyone got a punishment of sorts but, as I was class captain, mine was cruel and unusual. He stripped me publicly of my badge (I felt like Captain Dreyfus) and marched me down to his office (smoke, goldfish).
"What did you do when you left the Town Hall?" he demanded. "I went over to Hyde Park to watch our senior boys rehearse for Richard III (or whatever it was) on the ANZAC War Memorial steps." (Note: not petty crime, pointless vandalism or indolent time-wasting.) "Well, you can be sure you'll never be involved in anything like that." (Note: I found that pretty crushing.)
He then gave me four. It hurt like buggery; he was a skilled caner. I was also required to get a note from my parents but they didn't make a federal case of it.
I bet almost every school in NSW during the 60's was pretty much as brutal and sadistic as ours, some a bit more, some a bit less.
John Lenn
Gary writes:
Well, I recall that infamous afternoon concert at the Town Hall. We were seated as a group in the balcony seats on the right, towards the rear of the auditorium. It was a mediocre performance of woodwind, brass, strings and percussion that we endured courteously until we grew weary and began shifting uncomfortably in our upholstered velvet seats, looking at our watches and wondering for how much longer this tedious performance would go on. I think we all felt justified at normal going home time to go home, as there was no end in sight to this misery and at home dinner was already being prepared, but who would make the first move?
I think one of us said he was 'just going to the toilet' but as time went by and he didn't return, the same shameful idea hatched in all of us. Then someone, probably someone with form, was bold enough to get up and leave. Then another. Then, an exodus. Our departure was very conspicuous. All who left were just as guilty as you. We all knew it was wrong but we did it anyway, feeling justified by the precedent. We knew the boss would be pissed and he was.
He was out of order to treat you that way, but he got away with it. Why didn't you challenge him and refuse to cop it? Why didn't you give him back what he was giving to you? I know that's easy to say now. What were we, hypnotised?…culturally conditioned?
John,
Having worked for big public and private corporates in commercial roles most of my life, I am probably a bit sensitive to personal attacks being made in emails. I have seen others who have done this without thinking or expecting that the email might be passed on and on. Then a named person gets a copy and difficulties start. It is not usually defamation and court cases, but it can lead to unpleasantness - something that none of us want in this situation.
Web pages are a bit more risky as someone usually has the role of Administrator and can be held accountable if things get nasty. Companies have written policies and control over what is added to a website. I don't want us to have that approach, and as you took the initiative to start this fabulous forum for all of us, my view is that you must have the final say over what is "printed" on the website.
As far as emails are concerned, you have reminded everyone. You cannot stop them from writing and sending their stories around. Further reminders from time to time (if needed) may be required, but that is about the limit of it. Certainly I enjoy hearing the 'old war stories', which as a label is usually regarded as indicating that they are not necessarily accurate, but relate incidents from the past that remind the rest of us about those times and events. These old war stories (accurate or otherwise) are part of the fabric that brings us all back together again and allow us to laugh at those times, at each other and ourselves.
I have seen some subsequent emails about these war stories and your replies and I think you are taking the right approach. And even though I have left the corporate world, maybe I am still a bit too sensitive about personal attacks that are written in emails, and if so, ignore my corporate "war stories".
Greg Klamus
While we’re on it, does anyone remember the word that was sprayed on the wall outside Gill’s sports office? It was in black paint with an arrow pointing towards his office. On the assumption that your answer will not be published, I am just curious to know if any one actually DOES remember. If anyone does remember, an answer of yes will suffice.
Sid
Sid, the inscription read: "(expletive deleted)". John.
Sid,
Yes, it had something to do with politics. Someone said that Mr Gill had been an MP for the Liberal Party some years prior. Another student disagreed, saying 'No, he was a Country Member'. The first student then said 'Ah yes, that's right! I remember!'
Gary
Aaah yes! The Graffiti on the wall. I also remember "Harris is a kosh " Never figured out what that was about.
: ) Mark
Hi everybody, I have been enjoying the discussion and the old photos and mentally strolling down memory lane. We seem to have successfully resolved the mighty Bill Pitass saga so I wonder if we can now get the facts straight on another episode that sticks in my mind, perhaps because of the powerful rhyme. Who remembers the enormous font graffiti of GET YOUR (uncomplimentary vulgarism deleted) OUT OF (teacher's name deleted)? Who were the protagonists, what was the issue and what was the resolution of this episode?
Best wishes to all Roland
Roland, this perplexed issue has been canvassed above, though your thoughts on the subject might be valuable. Any inside information? Your observation at the time was that it was poetically reminiscent of Wordsworth or Tennyson. JL
John, the patsy theory looks increasingly valid. The evidence says he or she didn't act alone. We just don't know, and that is the worrying thing about it. There were many textbooks stored nearby in the storeroom. There are too many parallels for it to be a coincidence. The police were not called at the time and I don't see why you should be so worried about it now. Harris said nothing over the PA, or at assembly, and neither did his deputy. They told me there would be no further action taken. Anyway, I wasn't even there and can prove it.
G.
G, I do not understand the reference to textbooks. Your continuing morbid, compulsive fascination with the subject, however, has not gone unremarked. Furthermore, I generally disaprove of the use of a comma before conjuctions. John.
Don't pretend you can't see the writing on the wall:
1. He positioned himself in a school textbook repository
There were many textbooks stored nearby.
2. He didn't act alone
Same. This is what I am saying. He was talked into it. He was a dumb patsy for a much bigger operation
3. He was rubbed out the next day, lest he talk and reveal the brains behind it
He disappeared and has never been identified. His body has never been found.
4. There was more than one bullet, from more than one location. Multiple trajectories were proven by objective ballistic analysis by government experts
Forensic evidence suggests there was more than one paintbrush used. Drying times and exhaustive expert analysis of handwriting styles have proven this beyond doubt. Look at the U in Bumsworth and the U in Unsworth. They are clearly different, even to the untrained eye. It raises another question: look at the U in 'out'….it is different again. Was there a third person involved? Who purchased, opened and stirred the paint? Who cleaned up afterwards?
5. Nearby was a grassy knoll
Grassy Christison Park is less than 500 metres away.
See what I mean?
Gary
One day a bomb scare was set off at the school. After the kids evacuated the classrooms the scare was proven to be a hoax. Having left Vaucluse only recently at an early age, (student's name withheld) arrived at the school in a Ford Customline to watch the proceedings through the wire fence bordering Old South Head Road. It was rapidly and conspicuously obvious to all that, having arrived out of the blue to watch an unreported incident at the school from which he departed only recently under some ignominy, that the person responsible for the hoax was none other than the enchanting Mr (student's name withheld) himself. I'm fairly certain he had a mate lurking in the background in or near the Customline who accompanied him on that day's pleasant outing. To (student's name withheld), if you're reading this, I can only say: "Hey whaddup dude?"
"Get Your Bumsworth Out of (teacher's name withheld)" was likely not to have been an allusion to any supposed homosexuality on (teacher's name withheld)'s part, rather to his precise and Anglicized diction when speaking English -- as opposed to the broad and casual Aussie variety. Therefore he was associated with England which, as we all know, is populated by poofters, pansies, and primps. (Teacher's name withheld) was a tight-lipped man with a short fuse -- throwing chalk pieces at kids like bullets, scoring direct and stinging hits, which of course reduced some kids to tears. (Teacher's name withheld)'s contradiction was that he had an unkind and waspish attitude to children, which was not in keeping with his chosen field, being the gentle subject of Art. I believe this contradiction came as a subconscious surprise to most kids, disturbing as it did the received wisdom about the effeminacy of male Art teachers. "Get Your Bumsworth Out of (teacher's name withheld)" was therefore most likely a way of kids externalizing that reaction, while getting back at (teacher's name withheld) for his violence against them by defaming him. And lastly of course (teacher's name withheld)'s very name easily suggests a slanderous rhyme.
Still, (teacher's name withheld) was an improvement on a stand-in part-time Art and English teacher with a receding hairline on a domed head plus big ears and a permanent five-o'clock shadow, who walloped kids around the side of the head with full-on force and violence frequently and at will. This was the more unexpected and shocking because of that teacher's slight and unthreatening build. The teacher's name was Morrison. The following exchange was once overheard between Morrison and headmaster HK Harris: [Harris]: "You're late, Mr Morrison." [Morrison]: "You're right Mr Harris. You're damned lucky I turned up at all."
Mischa B.
Old South Head Road