Harold Cutting BSc R.I.P. — 8 Comments

  1. I have just caught up with the pics taken at Chigwell of the cross country. They bring back a few memories; I can’t remember exactly how many times we did that one together, Tony. Have you any idea when they where taken, it was really great to see them again? I seem to remember the races where held on a Saturday morning and it was always on a really cold winters day. Thanks for bringing back a few memories.
    Harry Valentine

  2. Unfortunately, none of these photos were dated, but I think they were probably taken in the 1960s.
    Tony Gocke

  3. The last photo of the Cross Country race is of my brother Howard Barnes. I have e-mailed him to get more details but I do know he was the victor that day and is in the middle if the picture. He is now sixty five and just as fit.
    David Barnes

  4. These photos of the Cross country race bring back loads of memories for me; not always good ones. I was never a very athletic boy and was not particularly keen on sport, but Glyn Summers used to talk me into the cross country race every year. I really didn’t want to do it and dreaded the cold and the wet and the mud and the feeling that my lungs were going to burst. I vividly remember coming out from the forest section at the top of the field at Chigwell Row and seeing the roped funnel area on the other side with, by that time, not many spectators standing there. I always gave it my best shot and just used to hope that my legs would hold out until I reached the finish line and save me the embarrassment of falling face first into the mud. I always finished the course but was generally in a poor position, and condition. I drive past that spot regularly, in fact have just done so as I write these few words and I am always so glad to be in my warm car, in a comfortable seat and letting an engine do all the work. Glyn also tried desperately to get me interested in Rugby. ‘You’re made for it’, he used to say, ‘look at those shoulders’, but all to no avail. I thoroughly enjoyed cricket and table tennis as they were played in the summer or indoors, sorry Glyn.
    Roy Tyzack

  5. In the starting line up I can identify a few runners. The boy nearest the camera is Colin Pledger. Using a magnifying glass I can see myself about half way along, and near the far end is Ian Mortimer. I suspect the photo was taken in 1962/63 when we are 2nd year pupils. The Photo of the backs of some of the teachers includes Mr. Francis, far right, Mr. Pusey and Mr. Wyatt.
    Malcolm Staight

  6. In response to photo ‘The finishing line in sight’
    The young man wearing No 28 was yours truly. I think the year was 1962 and I was winning my 1st cross country race. The view of the finishing line from Cabin Plain was a welcoming sight, my lungs were burning and my legs had gone numb.
    Pat Lavery

  7. I can identify myself in one of these photographs which stir distant memories of a cold day, we lads all dressed only in shorts and singlet with canvas plimsolls on our feet standing on wet grass in the cold oh so cold autumn mist, being observed by our teachers all suitable dressed in tweed suites and overcoats whilst we were awaiting the start of the annual cross country run.
    Then the starting whistle blown with gusto by Mr. Frankland, off we charged anxious to have it over with, dashing through the wet grass into the depths of Hainault forest, tripping over tree roots, falling into deep puddles on and on following the guide marks until at last we emerged on to Cabin Plain again. A dash to line to finish wet and muddy but happy that it was all over for another year.
    No risk analysis or qualified first aiders in attendance in those days, but to quote Mr. Frankland’s often used phrase, it will make a man of you boy, and it did.
    If only I could do it all again.
    Roy Malin.

  8. In the fifth photo down, taken behind the teachers, the man to the left with glasses is Mr Swain. In the photo below that I’m fairly sure is Mr Baker. They both taught science. Mr Swain was a character. I remember him bringing in a dead cat he’d apparently picked up on his way to school. I don’t think it was planned to be a biology lesson but we cut it up anyway. We all thought this was wonderful and I for one was full of it when I saw my parents. Imagine the fuss if that happened now. He’d be out of a job and we’d all be being offered counselling.
    Steve Scuse.

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