Were you at Berridge?


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I never knew the place, but one of Jill's photos reminded me of something I'd posted previously, showing an aerial view of the school in the 1930s. I recognised the playground dividing wall and surrounding bits.

BTwpPkw.jpg

 

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Through this door...and it's the original, although painted black in my day...I walked with my mum one cold morning early in 1962. I was just 4 years old. The door led to Miss Smith's office and my mu

Yes, it was emotional. I stood outside the Brushfield Street gate earlier in the morning and the memories came gushing back of my mum who passed on 9 years ago.   Oddly, I've discovered that

How many Berridge children have secreted themselves inside this niche situated in the playground which fronts the old infant building, hoping to be left behind when the bell rang at playtime's close?

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I've said this before. Although the raison d'etre for the site is nostalgia it long ago morphed into something more. There is room for all subjects and topics if posted in moderation

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Broadly correct, there has always been room for most subjects, 'Owt about Nowt' has been there since the site's inception. This has gradually branched out into many different topics.

 

There is room for all topics and subjects and if there is any moderation to be done, there is a person to do that called a Moderator.

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20 minutes ago, TBI said:

there is a person to do that called a Moderator.

Do we really need nanny constantly watching over us? Can we not use our common sense and exercise a little restraint?

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No, you're absolutely correct, we shouldn't need a nanny.

 

Any member should be free to post what they wish within the topics, without interference from a group who believe different.

 

You made a point the other day about letting sleeping dogs lie, remember?

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Jill, your posts stirred a distant memory for me. I can vaguely remember that as a tiddler at Douglas road school, we made our own hand puppets. Can't recall the show we did but I do remember taking our show to Berridge school and my part with my puppet was as a blind man.

All I remember was most of my part required a lot of coughing, not easy when your only about 9 or 10. Still, we got refreshments and biscuits.

We, as the cast felt like the bees knees. Done bugger all since....

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Ah I'm afraid common sense is not all that common these days Brew, we had that right took off us by the nanny state,(those who know best)

 

Rog

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P-20190326-092806.jpg

 

 

This is the former tuckshop to which PP is referring, on the corner of Oakland Street and Berridge Road.

 

In my day, it was run by Mr and Mrs Merriman. They were probably in their 50s. They sold general grocery items but also sweets and ices. Penny drinks were a favourite or 3d drinks if you were feeling flush.

 

Lovely people the Merrimans. They emigrated to Australia where their son was already living. Someone else bought the shop but it was never the same. It closed long ago. The windows and doors now bricked up.

 

Who ran it in your day, PP?

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You may be right about conveying subconscious fear, Jill.  Although I know what causes them I've always hated (feared them I guess)  Maybe that's where Jake gets his fear of them.  He senses it in me.  As  a kid I hated to be alone in the house in thunderstorms.  Maybe I got it from seeing too many scary movies where nasty things happen to folks in big old houses during storms.

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Lovely visit to Berridge yesterday and nice to put faces to names. Planning a few things I could talk to the children about and sort out my school photos it made me realise that it was 59 years since I first stepped through that gate. I can hardly believe it. Happy days at Berridge in comparison to the school that followed, Forest Fields Grammar that I grew to loath. Not entirely the schools fault, I will shoulder some of the responsibility but safe to say I hated it.

Don't get me wrong, as for Berridge I was glad when it was weekends and holidays but looked forward to school immensely. The fabric of the building was very familiar. Nice to meet you Terry, Mark, Jane and Jill. Terry's chopping board he made in woodwork class at the school from the centre cut out of a toilet seat went down well with the children.

I had a sister 4 years older and when I was at infant school she at the juniors, she would look out the cloakroom window and wave to me for a bit of moral support for the new boy. Looking up at the window from the spot I used to stand to the window she waved from was very emotional as she passed away almost 4 years ago.

Thanks to Jill for organising.

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Very heart stirring memory of your sister looking out for you....  thanks for sharing

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Yes, it was emotional. I stood outside the Brushfield Street gate earlier in the morning and the memories came gushing back of my mum who passed on 9 years ago.

 

Oddly, I've discovered that my paternal grandmother, the infamous Kate, lived at 131 Brushfield Street when she was a child. She may even have attended Berridge for a time.

 

The house has been demolished but stood almost opposite the school gate.

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Pleased you all found the visit a good experience, Jill.   I think getting emotional about times past is useful as it sometimes brings back new memories - hopefully good ones, but sometimes some not so good ones, sadly..

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The old junior entrance, used in 1969 when I left and still in use today.

 

Berridge is not as spartan as it was in my day. There is now carpet throughout the school and blinds at the windows. Classroom ceilings have been lowered to preserve heat and improve acoustics.

 

However, the one thing we all noticed was the smell of Carbolic soap! There was none...but the smell remains. It must be ingrained in the fabric of the building!  The rows of washbasins in the entrance vestibule are gone, replaced with receptionists and log in computer screens!

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P-20190326-135937-001.jpg

 

Through this door...and it's the original, although painted black in my day...I walked with my mum one cold morning early in 1962. I was just 4 years old. The door led to Miss Smith's office and my mum wanted to put my name down to begin school in the November when I'd be 5.

 

Unfortunately for me, there were vacancies and the following week I was at Berridge...almost a year too soon!

 

P-20190326-140352.jpg

 

In this fireplace, now bricked up, burned a roaring coal fire.

 

P-20190326-140344.jpg

 

And, here, pushed into a corner and covered with dross, is Miss Smith's Victorian desk. It has probably been in this little room since the school was built!

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How many Berridge children have secreted themselves inside this niche situated in the playground which fronts the old infant building, hoping to be left behind when the bell rang at playtime's close?  I know I did. Just for old times' sake, hid in there again on Tuesday!

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Berridge School is an impressive building that has stood the test of time. Many schools have been built and demolished during the life of Berridge. Some Nottingham ex pupils unfortunately have no school to visit :(  Of course the heartbeat of a school is it's pupils and teachers and I am proud to say that my old school is vibrant and healthy :biggrin: It was a happy place with the children keen to ask questions and diligently taking notes. The teachers themselves made a difficult job look enjoyable. The children asked about the ethnic mix and religion during my time there and they were obviously aware of how times have changed. This is an Asian area and the classes were mainly of Asian extract. About half the teachers were Asian which helped with any language problems. I sincerely hope that the pupils will look back with pride at their old school and remember how it prepared them for a happy and successful life, as it did for me. 

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