I like the casual pose of the three pals in this picture. It was taken in 1935 when my Dad was 13, or nearly 14 years old. He’s the one on the right with his right arm resting on his friend’s shoulder. I’ve no idea who the other two are, but the one in the middle looks a little older, perhaps the other boy’s big brother. I only came by this picture recently as there are very few pictures of Dad as a youngster. Some of my blog readers will remember him as the Brylcreemed youngster in Boy on a Bicycle, the window-smashing footballer in Let’s Play a Game and in his Boys Brigade uniform in Something for the Boys. Dad died in late November 2012 and I am still finding out things about him that I never knew. I have a couple of his old school reports from about this time and they are in quite a fragile state but the one from that Summer Term of 1935, tells me something more about the boy in the photograph.
I know that he had moved from Nottingham to Doncaster with his family in 1933, when my grandfather, a railway worker, transferred to the repair shops there. This would have been Dad’s final (terminal) report at the school before moving on to the world of work.
He was a good attendee and received praise from his master for making good progress and his conduct and industry were 'very satisfactory’. What I can also deduce is that Dad was in a small-sized class of 31 (his previous one had 52 pupils) and that he was a reasonable, above average scholar. His composition, spelling and written and spoken English were good; there was no separate comment for handwriting then, which is a shame as Dad had the most beautiful copperplate handwriting right to the end of his life. What we now call Humanities were clearly not his strong subjects, but he was good at Geometry and Music and shone at Arts and Crafts. All this accords with the father I knew, who went on from there to further study Maths, English, Draughtsmanship and Mechanical Engineering at Evening College and trained with Castell’s Window Dressers, whilst playing his drum kit in his spare time. Longtime readers will remember that Dad was a very good hobby artist and was still painting up until a year or so before his death.
The teacher summed Dad up well, his conduct was exemplary; he was a gentleman, and he worked ceaselessly throughout his life to make sure that his family were well cared for. He wasn’t always appreciated by his employers and he never rose to the top. He was once told he didn’t have 'enough fire in his belly'; he was far too nice. He didn’t toady and creep and was really quite gullible, often taking people at face value. He didn’t learn the secret handshake and he didn’t marry the boss’s daughter. What he did have was lots of friends who appreciated his friendship and his many kindnesses. Even today people still speak of him as ‘such a lovely man’ which gives my mother great comfort. I bet his two pals in the picture knew him as a good friend as well, just look at the body language.
Our prompt this week was what led me to this picture of my Dad. Three pals together with one casually resting his hand on another’s shoulder. However, I don’t think their whisky-fuelled behaviour was ‘very satisfactory’ and they all look a little worse for wear. Join other contributors to Sepia Saturday to read more reports.