It is with great sadness that I share with you the news I learned today that Mrs Norma Quince, Church High School Secretary from 1994-2004, has very recently passed away.  I know a great many of you, whether as a colleague or pupil, will remember Norma’s warm personality, kindness and good humour.  She will be much missed.

Norma took on the role of Church High’s School Secretary in 1994 on the retirement of Mrs Elizabeth Bell.  The School Secretary’s onerous duties not only involved running the School Office, but also acting as the Headmistress’ PA and supporting the Governing Body.  Norma carried out these duties with great diligence, skill and discretion supporting two Headmistresses in her 10 years’ service.  Her time supporting Miss Davies was short (a year and one term), as Miss Davies retired in December 1995, but she enjoyed a long working relationship with Mrs Lesley Smith, who took up the Headship in January 1996.  As many of you may remember, Norma also acted as Secretary to the Church High Old Girls’/Alumnae Association until Sarah Timney took on the role of Alumnae Co-ordinator in 2000.

Norma’s time working at Church High coincided with a period of great change, growth and expansion for the School.  The picture at the head of this post shows her (centre) in the Hall with Governors at the Opening Reception for the Barbour Wing in 1999.  Norma would also have been involved administratively in the work leading up to the unveiling of the Sport’s Hall in 2002 and the LRC in 2003.

In recent years, Norma’s health had been failing a little, but that did not stop her attending the Church High Reception to celebrate the re-opening of Tankerville in September 2016 (pictured below).  It was lovely to have her there with us at that special ‘family’ reunion .

If you would like to attend, a funeral service to celebrate Norma’s life will take place on Thursday 21st December at 10.15 am at the West Road Crematorium, Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  In the Evening Chronicle notice, a family request for flowers only has been made. Friends are also requested to meet at the crematorium where the retiring collection will be in aid of the British Heart Foundation.

Norma will be greatly missed by all who knew her at Church High.

 

I learned recently that one of the last fundraising projects my friend Richard Berg Rust worked on in his role as Development Director for Hughes Hall, Cambridge was the commissioning of a large set of ornamental gates for the college.  You may recall that I like gates and find the symbolism incorporated into ironmongery fascinating.  Since the oldest Cambridge colleges all had famous gateways, such as Newnham College’s grand Pfeiffer Arch, it was felt Hughes Hall, the newest college admitted to the University, needed their own.  In the same way the chrysanthemum is associated with old Church High, the marsh marigold is the oldest symbol of Hughes Hall.  Alan Dawson’s preferred design for the gates used the flower in such a way that a new marsh marigold can be added whenever a student from a hitherto unrepresented country matriculates at Hughes.  Only after Richard’s death did I learn Hughes Hall was actually founded in 1885 as the Cambridge Training College for Women to train female graduates for the teaching profession.  Not only is 1885 the same year Church High was formed, the buildings are so similar too.  Amazing.  Such a lot we could have talked about there.

I don’t remember anyone ever talking about what the new school gates would look like.  Other than noticing a reference to Davison Fencing in Giuseppe’s photographs, I didn’t give it any thought at all.  Clearly an entrance to the New building grounds would be needed, but that was the last thing on my mind when I decided to visit the site on my way home from the Archives on Monday 22nd August.  It had been another lovely sunny day and once again everything on Tankerville Terrace seemed very quiet that late on in the afternoon.

Further along the street, the presence of a very large lorry with its engine running indicated there was work still going on in the New building grounds.  But it was only when I spotted the crane that I realised what was actually going on – and how lucky my timing was.

God does seem to have been very kind to me during this process.  Call it Fate or Lady Luck if you prefer, but, not for the first time, I found myself in exactly the right place at the right time.  Consequently, in the same way I had turned the corner as the old carpark gates were being fork-lifted away, I skirted the lorry just in time to photograph a set of new entrance gates being winched into place.

I’ve always been very careful not to get in the way when I’ve visited the site with my camera and it became second nature to always stay the ‘safe side’ of my guide or, when I’ve been a bit cheeky to get a particular shot, never put myself at risk.  That’s what the high vis jackets, the hard hat and boots are for, of course.  And Wates take site safety very seriously indeed.  But goggles and heavy gloves do not make using a camera at all easy, so they usually ended up ‘going the journey’ as my friend/helper kindly turned a blind eye.  Because of this, I’m quite proud of a lot of the photos I’ve taken all around the site over the full year and a half of the renovation work.  So there was no way I was going to stay across the other side of the road now.

From this position, with my lens pressed through a hole in the fence, I am the only person who was there to take you step-by-step through the process of installing a set of large steel gates the Wates’ way.  The first step, once the gates were lowered into position, was to ensure they were both completely level.  Enter Spirit Level Man.

By now, I had edged in as close as I dared considering I had just turned up at a crucial stage of the work.  These gates, which would be one of the first things anyone about to enter the new school’s grounds would see, were the last major item to be installed on site.  And I was there to record it happening.  From the moment I arrived, I could see how important this job must be as Project Manager Nick White (far right) was in attendance, personally overseeing the work.

By this point, Nick White had looked up and noticed I was there.  He didn’t say anything.  Just concentrated on the important job in hand.

Through every stage of this process, Nick has never been less than warm, gracious, extremely helpful and most professional whenever I met him.  Wates have a company philosophy which welcomes and embraces the ‘client’ throughout the job, so it is second nature to their workforce to be open, informative and always willing to help.  I know they found it a bit ‘strange’ that our build had an unspoken expectation of very restricted access and they were ‘caught out’ by this occasionally.  Hence the ‘site-shut-down’ to staff, for which I later received an apology from the member of NHSG staff involved.  Only once did Nick ask me to come back another time, even though I had already been kitted out and allocated Connal as a guide.  I didn’t mind.  I could see the strain etched on his face at that point.  And they did hit problems.  Especially in the run-in to the hand-over.  Privately, a number of guys told me they couldn’t see it being ready in time for us and, afterwards, I was told that Nick, “Did very well for a Young-un”.  That he, “Held it together well.”  A manly compliment.  When Nick looked up, he was probably thinking, “Is Christine, officially allowed here now or not?”  And I can’t blame him for that.  At times he’ll have been told I was and on other occasions I wasn’t.  But as the guys conferred, I decided this was my time to edge forward.

As it was, I did now have School’s permission to be on site and since there was no boundary fence left to speak of anyway, I took this opportunity to step over the rubble to take up a reverse viewpoint.

Against the backdrop of Tankerville Terrace, the ornate features of the gates were a lot easier to see.  Each carpark gate featured a large seahorse emblem, of course, courtesy of GMC Fabrication Services.

Not wanting to push it too far, I didn’t stay there very long.  The gates may have still been held up by support chains, but I could see this was a really stressful process and I didn’t want to distract anyone.  There was one of the Wates’ supervisors I didn’t recognise.  Peter had said the last time I saw him “There was a new boss on the job.” And that he was a strict one too.  In the photo below taken from Tankerville Terrace again, he is the guy standing on the left.  I made a point of introducing myself before I went home that day.  Initially a little bemused by me, Ken Fikson was to become my last site-friend.

It must have been approaching 5.00 pm by that point and, pleased with what I had accomplished, I turned away to head off for home.  In order to do that, I had to make my way around the lorry again.

I decided to take one more photograph from a different angle and, as I framed the shot, it dawned on me it was still carrying half its load.

Of course.  What was being put into position was a set of gates for car access and a smaller pedestrian gate had yet to be unloaded.  I wondered whether they would manage to get this done that night.  On the way home, my mind began to muse on purpose-built gates and later that evening I realised it wasn’t actually as long ago as I thought that one had been commissioned for the Tankerville site.  Does the image below ring any bells with anyone from Church High?

This little pedestrian gate is still in the grounds of Westward House.  It was created to allow access to the School Pond and, I guess, also to prevent the unwary or the simply curious from falling into it too.  The beautiful, metal dragon-fly motif mounted onto the front of the gate was designed by one of Church High’s Junior School pupils, Alex Levett, who I remember well from her time in Senior School.  The pond and its newly-installed gate were officially opened by Miss Patricia Davies in her last term as Head Mistress of Church High, the Autumn term of 1995.  Katherine Craig (LV) wrote the article for the School magazine: ‘In the Autumn term, all pond-skill participants, Form Captains and numerous teachers gathered for the official opening of the School Pond.  Miss Davies and Alex Levett, who designed the dragon-fly on the gate, cut the ribbon and many photos were taken.  The pond was looked at and complimented until the rain came down.  Everyone hurried to Miss Davies’ room where drinks and pond-cake were enjoyed by all.’

I am still in contact with Miss Davies, my first Head Mistress and someone from whom I learned a great deal.  She has been helping me with the early stages of the history of Church High’s last years.  She was very saddened, as I was, at the news that GDST will soon be selling Tankerville House, an iconic property which has been in Church High’s land portfolio since 1927.  Westward House is to be retained, however, so at least Alex’s little dragon-fly gate is still safe for a while.  Because a dragon-fly is often seen as a symbol of Hope.

Have you ever come across a tiny book called ‘Water Bugs and Dragonflies’, I wonder?  I was given a copy by my Vicar after my mother died and I am very fond of it indeed.  Intended to help explain death to young children, it can also be used to minister to other losses, of course.  The story begins: ‘Down below the surface of a quiet pond lived a little colony of water bugs.  They were a happy colony, living far away from the sun.’  At the end of the tale, the writer provides the reader with the following prayer: ‘Thank you, God, for the miracle that makes shiny dragonflies out of water bugs.  Please remember …….. who has left the pond we live in.  Give him/her a good life too in a wonderful new world of sun and air. And then remember me, and let me someday be with him/her.  Amen.’  This feels quite apt as we near Tankerville re-opening as a brand new school.  Where would your pond be?

When I visited Tankerville on the afternoon of August 18th, one of the last shots I captured through the fence was the main entrance.    The red roses still standing tall to the right of the door had caught my eye.  Now that the hoardings had been removed, the garden in front of the building was revealed for the first time in a very long while.  This area of the site had acted as a workers’ thoroughfare.  Wooden sleepers had been laid across the grass and, as Giuseppe’s photo below shows, the damage to the garden was beyond repair.

This area would be replanted in time, of course, but, in keeping with the modern feel of the refurbishment, in a more minimalist style: grasses, ferns and that kind of thing.  No more roses anymore.  I know I’ve used this image before, but as the new era was drawing nigh, forgive me for re-reminding you of the frontage at its prime.

I am very fond of roses.  I’ve never been much good at growing them – they need too much time and care – but my Nana and Grandad Chapman were.  I do remember some things they told me as a little girl.  I know rose bush suckers are a bad thing and have to be removed because they suck the majority of the nutrients necessary for good growth.  This only happens with cultivated grafted roses apparently, not the older types.  I wonder if there is an equivalent for a grafted school?  From childhood experience, I also learned that roses were lovely to look at but could be painful to pick.  Have you read Colleen McCullogh’s novel ‘The Thorn Birds’?  It was a blockbuster TV mini series a couple of years before I came to Church High.  Roses were a key motif in this tale of love and pain: ‘There’s one thing you’ve forgotten about your precious roses …. they’ve got nasty hooky thorns!’

The book’s title relates to a Celtic legend, the premise being that ‘the best is only bought at the cost of great pain.’  The inference is biblical, of course.  When something hurts me badly, I do try to remember this.  The thing about life is that we don’t get the full picture as we live it.  We feel the ebb and flow of emotions, but can’t see the end result.  When I saw Giuseppe’s images of the old building interiors nearing completion on August 19th, I felt just such a mix of joy and sadness.  Happiness at the prospect of returning ‘home’ again soon, but the changes to spaces like the Hall caused – and still do cause – me pain.

I know those of you who have now spent time in the refurbished building will be familiar with its new 21st Century interiors, but for the benefit of those further afield, Giuseppe can guide you through.  Inside the buildings in the week of the 19th, the deli kitchen had been constructed at the south end of the Hall and work was now underway on the stage area at the north end.  You may remember the stage had been extended into an arc at its west-facing point?  As in the plan below, the raised seating area was now being created.

The same joinery firm who worked on the stage extension also created bespoke stairs for the room created under the eaves in the original NHS building’s south gable, most recently used as an office.

As staff, we had already seen the large interactive screens that were planned for every classroom in the school as a trial one had been in situ within the Brandling Campus for the last year.  Ordering these screens was the very last thing Steven Farrell did as IT Manager for NHSG before the management decided to restructure ICT Support.

Giuseppe’s uploaded photos also made it clear that inside the New building the Science Labs and the Main Hall were all now complete.

At Noon on August 15th, Giuseppe captured a shot through the old Staffroom side window of a large removal van pulling up outside the Old building Main Entrance.  The first batch of furniture had arrived.

Although virtually everything is white now (never, ever a favourite colour of mine, sadly), it IS still the same old building beneath it all.  And readers of this blog understand this more clearly than anyone.  While visitors to the Sixth Form Library on the top floor of the Old building will notice a strangely-configured, white desk-table-cum-cabinet structure, you will all know that, underneath that laminate casing, still lie the rough-hewn wooden bell-tower support beams.

After reading this post, you will also now know that – apart from the original stage which is still under the Common Room seating area – there is one very small area of the Old building which has been left as it was, totally unchanged.  How great is that!  It may be tiny and extremely hard to get into, but a part of Old Church High really has been enshrined forever, deep within the newly-renovated building.  If you move aside one of the portable white bookcases at the north end of the Sixth Form Library, where a small set of stairs used to be, very low down in the white wall behind it you will see a tiny little door.  Readers of Neil Gaiman’s ‘Coraline’ will know all about the parallel worlds that can lie behind such tiny, lockable doors in a wall.

Yes, a portion of the old roof-space with the only remaining king post truss is there even now, hidden away admittedly but still there for posterity.  A more imaginative architect might have considered putting a glass wall in place just there, but sadly that was not to be.

I always try to look on the bright side of things and consider it a blessing of sorts that this little space at least has been kept intact.  I had guessed as much from my site visits, of course, but having it confirmed by Giuseppe, almost as a little photo-story, was lovely.  I didn’t need any more gifts after that, but it appeared Giuseppe had one more little present for me. You may recall his penchant for passing on any little archeo-finds the workforce came across.  Well, when I noticed two very unexpected images appear in his uploads, I kind of guessed what might next be finding its way eventually to me.

Despite having gained ‘permission’ to visit the site again over the summer break, once settled back into my home routine ‘over-the-water’, it seemed best to leave be for a while.  However hard-won the victory, I was tired, needed the rest, so listened to my body – for once.  Had I done so recently, I wouldn’t be in the state I’m in now, I know.  But my Mam used to say that “God’s timing is always right” so we shall just have to wait and see.  As it turned out, in the summer of 2016 the time at home was needed to say ‘goodbye’ to Sassy, my old-lady cat, a loyal companion for the previous 19 and a half years.  I spent some time in the Archives too, which was where I’d been on Thursday August 18th when I felt the urge to check on Tankerville.  It was a sunny afternoon and the site looked beautiful from afar, but as I got closer, all had changed.  The hoardings were down, the gates gone and, to the right, Peter’s cabin was now just a blue, metal box.

Whilst the scenes of upheaval were a shock to the system, it was hardly surprising since the handover date was less than two weeks away.  The new building’s cladding looked super shiny in the sunlight and I assumed its interiors must have been fully completed by now.

In close up, the panels now showed an interesting graduation of colour in keeping with how long each had been in place.  A bit of a mismatch at the moment, but eventually all would darken to bronze.

Considering I’d been waiting two years for Tankerville to be brought back to life again, it was strange how mixed my feelings were that evening.  I’d become very fond of my knights-in-shining-armour within the work-force. The sense of camaraderie that had evolved over time had almost had a Church High feel to it.  Peter & Co were good, kind folk.  Salt of the earth.  They’d seen me laugh and seen me cry.  Listened to my sadnesses, shared the stories, absorbed some of the history.  My visits, and those of many others who came to the gates to watch, gave them a sense of being part of something special. The blog helped greatly there, of course.  From the architect who told me, “Oh we know this is the loved school …..” to the guy who commented, “If it’s the same outside, it’s still your building no matter what happens inside,” it always felt like we were all on the same side. The doors of the Church High building would soon be open once more and that was as it should be.  However, something else was going to be lost in the process.  Again.  But those red walls retain a lot.

No big metal gate or teal green hoardings in place now meant my view of what was going on in the grounds was relatively unfettered, of course.  However, it didn’t feel half as much fun that way.  The best way I can think of to describe it is as if I had been in a long drawn-out game of tug-of-war but there was no longer anyone pulling on the other end of the rope.  I now think the tension on that metaphorical rope was actually the main thing keeping me going.  Now it was clear that the final groundworks were in full swing.  The paths were being laid, though I don’t know if Eddie ever returned.

The habit for ‘snapping’ new features was so well-ingrained by then that even something as menial as a bicycle rack still caught the eye.  A year later on, I almost discarded the shot preparing photos for this post until it dawned on me that the rack had been placed in virtually the exact same spot as Church High’s 1927 bicycle shed.  Bicycling was, of course, really popular at that time and it was no doubt a great inconvenience to many when the shed was displaced to allow the building of the school’s first extension to create a Science Lab.  The 1927 plans in Tyne & Wear Archives show the bicycle shed top right.  The new rack is situated a little to the right again.  It’s amazing how many things have simply travelled full-circle with this merger.

My eye for irony hadn’t been lost either.  In some places the tree-protection fences (virtually the first things put in place on the site way back in 2015) were still in evidence, though clearly not where they could have been of any help to one little tree during the ‘last push.’  I guess that now made it two trees sadly lost in the process.

Passing the old Church High side carpark gates on my way back to the Metro, I noticed that all of the colourful site workers cabins had also now gone.  A school yard once again, but strangely bereft of life.

Just as I was turning to go, a figure in reflective clothing suddenly came out of the side door and walked towards me.  As he opened the gates to speak to me, my thoughts turned to Peter once again.  But it wasn’t him, of course.  It was my old friend, Colin Gordon.  He told me that Peter was long gone, onto another job.  And a good job too.

Yes, not all of my new friends had gone.  And Giuseppe was still there too, even if our contact was only via the photographs he was still uploading into the Cloud.  This was his view of the side yard.

Despite the eerie silence of the site in the process of decamp that evening, an ex-Church High colleague driving down Tankerville Terrace at that time had described it as a veritable tumult of activity.  Giuseppe’s photographs show the grinding toil of the heavy groundworks going on during that week.  It looks noisy – and smelly too.

If this much frantic activity was going on in the grounds to ensure the handover deadline was met, one wonders what inside was like.

But the last words of this post must focus on Peter, to whom I owe a great deal.  As do you all.  I did eventually meet up with him again.  Only once.  His new job was in Scotland but he sent me a text when he was back in the area.  He met me at The Sage after the morning Prizegiving rehearsal in September 2016 and took me out for lunch.  Nothing fancy.  That wouldn’t have suited either of us.  But it does make me smile that we ended up at ‘The Centre for Life’.  So very Peter!  He told me all about his new job and what gave me the most pleasure was that he gained it simply for being Himself.  Unbeknownst to him, he’d been observed being reliable, cheerful, managing things with ease and, above all, having time for people.  His new employer wanted him for ‘who he was’.  This fact gives me hope.