It’s been a while since I did a Memories post, so here’s another one.

They say you never forget your first day at school. Well I must be strange because I don’t remember the actual first day. What I do remember is general.

I entered a hallway with pegs on either side. Each peg had a picture of an animal next to it. I couldn’t read and neither could the other children, so we recognised our own pegs by the picture.

A motherly lady with white hair greeted us and told us her name was Mrs Rose and that she was our teacher.

I hung my coat on the peg Mrs Rose said was mine then followed her, along with everyone else, through a door on the left of the entrance.

In the classroom were double desks arranged in rows. The walls in this classroom were painted white, and there were windows at the left of the door. I couldn’t see out of them, though, as they were high in the wall.

The school was a Victorian brick building. The windows were pointed arches, a bit like church windows, but without the stained glass. As it was a Church school, that might have been the reason for making it look like a church.

I looked it up yesterday, and the school has apparently been converted to dwellings! At least it’s not been knocked down.

Although only little, 5 years old at the most, I walked the half mile to school with a girl just a couple of years older than me. No adults accompanied us. That sounds terrible in this day and age, but I don’t remember any parents waiting at the school gates. Certainly no cars.

One day, I came out of school and couldn’t see Margaret. I was frightened she’d gone without me and, ignoring the teacher who was seeing the children across the road, I ran out to try to catch her up and was knocked down by a cyclists. Everyone was most concerned. I didn’t get into trouble, though. They were more worried to see if I, or the cyclist, were hurt. We were both alright.

And Margaret hadn’t gone without me.

The reason I was so worried was walking up the hill home. There was a long, high wall with tall trees behind it, and a field with equally tall trees on the other side. This made this part of the walk quite gloomy even on bright days. I was afraid of passing this dark area on my own.

Attached to the wall, just outside the door, was an enamel plaque with a flaming torch depicted on it. It was the sign for a school in those days, mirrored in the road signs until they became international. The torch was the torch of learning.

We used to line up and jump to tap it as high as we could. The person who reached the highest was the winner, of course.

What do you remember about your first school?

Let me know in the comments.