Mayfield Magazine 1966, Issue 28
From the Editorial by G. J. Larcombe: Our magazine makes its annual appearance. This is the tenth number since I became editor. There have been a few changes, but it seems to have settled down into a regular style. The last two or three issues, however, have been increasingly difficult to produce. Contributions are not readily forthcoming. After all it is YOUR magazine and its contents are are a reflection of of the work and sporting activities of your school. Please let me have your suggestions and contributions at any time during the year. Do not wait to be asked.
From the Headmaster’s Review by C. F. W. Hicks: In the General Certificate of Education at “O” Level, of the 77 boys entered, 67 gained a certificate. The pass rate was well above the National average. Special commendation goes to David Neal who gained 8 passes with five Grade 1 awards and to James Britton, Trevor Burchette, David Ensor and Richard Moulton who also gained 8 Passes.
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Poem And Picture, Drawn by Peter Oliver & Lettered by David Braham
Spring by P. Ward
In The Desert by P. Dipper
The Mail Train by L. Newman
The Waves At Night by R. Waugh
Spring, The Beginning Of Beauty by C. Slater
The Southend Walk by Mr. B. Davies
Night by R. Bass
My Eleven-Plus Exam by R. Hutton
My New Bicycle by R. Tidiman
An Old Yarn by Peter Bryant
Above The Clouds by P. Heath
A Visit To A Cricket Match by R. Tidiman
Bonfore Night. A New Aspect by S. Morl
Still Life by Douglas Ward
Abstract by Colin Enever
My Annual Holiday by G. Russell
The Hawk by B. Andrews
Night In A Coastal Town by J. Bently
My Favourite Stretch Of Coastline by David Braham
Among The Ruins by C. Hills
Cats by A. Waugh
Australian Ghost Town by M. Hart
Eagles by B. Barrett
A Drastic Overhall by G. Russell
200 Miles Under The Earth by B. Thomson
Poem And Picture – Drawn by Peter Oliver & Lettered by David Braham
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The Southend Walk by Mr. B. Davies
It all started when Mr. Hicks decided to ask the school to give as much as they could to OXFAM. Several boys in 5E2 approached Mr. Summers and said, ‘What about a mass walk to Southend? Each boy could get a sponsor who would donate a fixed amount for each mile covered.’ It was agreed that it was a good idea.
When Saturday, March 5th arrived, 49 walkers, a multitude of spectators and a few press men, met at Little Heath. The weather was fine and a large banner, ‘Youth against Hunger’, fluttered in the breeze. At 8 a.m. we were off.
Immediately Mortimer and Larke went into the lead. By the time Romford was reached the walkers straggled out for nearly a mile. The pace was so fast that several markers arrived only to see a few weary stragglers passing into the distance.
Just before the Half Way House the pace and the heat began to tell. Blisters appeared, groans were heard and some even gave up. The loan member of staff on the walk was seen to take off a grimy pair of army boots, pitch them into the nearest ditch, and carry on in civilian shoes. Several boys remarked that it was like walking on hot sharp cinders
When Rayleigh was reached, legs were really weary. The large notice, ‘Welcome to Southend’, must surely be the most deceptive sign imaginable. Several boys gasped out, ‘Good, we’re here!’ when, in reality, they were 4 miles from the station which marked the end of the walk.
Mortimer and Larke arrived at 3 p.m. The rest wearily walked, staggered and almost crawled in over a period of of about five or six hours. Several could scarcely walk. One large athletic-looking boy virtually had to be carried to a waiting car.
Was it worth it? Without a doubt! Forty-one boys had the satisfaction of having aimed at and achieved something really worthwhile. The aches and blisters seemed to slip out of mind when we realised that £140 had been collected for OXFAM.
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Night by R. Bass
Dark, damp, cold and misty, the night creeps in rudely and rugged, drawing dew to bushes, grass, and trees. As the soft cold wind blows, a large fern waves freely high above the short grass, the thick light brown, dirty yellow stalks move slightly and smoothly, and the thin fairy-like leaf floats like a fan held in the hand of a dark skinned slave.
As nearby trees creak the still silent wind is split, split by bottles shaking in a milk crate, and that uninteresting sound of a milk float buzzing through the streets. A paper-boy slams gates and goes away. Then the everlasting noise of people happy and warm.
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Night In A Coastal Town by J. Bentley
In the deserted moon-blanched street,
How lonely rings the echo of my feet!
Those windows, which I gaze at, frown,
Silent, white, unopening down,
Repellent as the world; – but see!
A break between the house -tops shows
The moon, and, lost behind her, fading dim
Into the dewy dark obscurity
Down at the far horizon’s rim,
Doth a whole tract of heaven disclose,
And to my mind the thought,
Is all sudden brought,
Of a past night, and a far different scene.
Headlands stood out into the moonlit deep.
As clearly as at noon;
The spring tides brimming flow
Heaved dazzlingly between
The house with the long white sweeps
Girdling the glistening bay;
Behind, through the soft air
The blue hazed cradled mountains spread away.
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My recollection of Mayfield School was some good and some bad. I enjoyed being the milk monitor and drinking up the spare bottles of milk that were left after morning break. I also enjoyed singing in the school choir. I especially liked private singing lessons in the lunch-hour with Miss Rose, who would help me practice music that I would be singing the following Sunday in church. I enjoyed RE with “little” Miss Davis and Miss Webster. The bad bits were that I was bullied a lot during my years at Mayfield, and I couldn’t wait to leave. I was sad at leaving friends that I had grown up with, but there is a lot that made me very unhappy. Years later I was diagnosed with Dyslexia – something which in the 50s/60’s wasn’t heard of, and I was labelled a lazy child who could do better. I never made it to my dream profession as a Doctor or Nurse, I spent most of my working life in administration or office work of one sort or another. I left school without any exams behind me at all, and took my first GCE in English in 1983 – passed with a grade A, since then I have gone on to get a BA degree with the Open University in 2000.