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I suppose my earliest memories are of about the age of six, wrote Eddy Joyce, 'A mere sixty years ago.' At that time there being no school in Shotley Bridge, Blackhill St. Mary's was the nearest, a couple of miles uphill from our home in Riverside.
Two things stand out for me in that period, firstly the small bottles of milk 'compulsory drinking '. In winter the milk when frozen, would push the bottle top up looking like an iced lolly. However the milk crates were then stacked against the radiators and thawed out for recess ' Play-time '.
I soon found out that school and I were not compatible and as I neared the top of the Infants school decided one day to 'Wagg it '. I remember sitting in a field above the wood near where we lived, just passing the time away and thinking that it must be about home time.
I strolled into the house not knowing that it was only 2.30. Mam asked why I was home so early, I said that because I had been so good at my lessons teacher had let me out early.
Not a satisfactory answer. Belted off Mam, the same off Dad when he came in from work, and the cane off the head-mistress next day at school. I soon realised that 'Wagging it ' didn`t pay and soon settled down.
My teacher then was Miss Coleman who had a remarkable way of teaching us the 'times tables.' She divided the class into two sections, each team competing against the other.
If one person gave the wrong answer allowing the other team to win, that person usually got thumped at play-time. Being a Catholic school the catechism was also one of our daily lessons.
We were tested on it in a similar way to the 'tables', and to this day I can honestly say that I can still recite most of the answers. At that particular time Sunday Mass was top priority and woe-be-tide anyone who missed Mass.
Monday morning the head-mistress Sister Albertine would come into the
class-room. We naturally jumped to our feet and said ' Good morning.' She would then pick anyone at random asking what Mass that person had attended.
She would then ask the colour of the vestments the priest had worn, or what the sermon was about. Giving the wrong answer meant the cane, and being told to go to Confession.
However, about that time, a priest, Father Kelly, came to Shotley Bridge----------we didn't have a church and had to celebrate weekday masses in the front room of his house. This worked okay during the week, but come Sunday, Mass was held in the lounge of the local pub.
This was jokingly known as 'The Upper Room.' We had to be out by 12 noon for the pub opening time.
At that time I and some of the other lads became Altar-boys , but I can`t recall if we were asked or told. Anyway, every Saturday morning we had to practise the Latin responses and learn them off by heart.
At that stage I wasn`t sure what they meant but I can still remember those responses. I recall that Father Kelly smoked 'Passing Cloud' cigarettes, and the car he drove was a Jowett--Javelin. The curious thing about those cigarettes was that they were oval in shape, I could never figure out why.
Eddy Joyce, Western Australia, 2002
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