A couple of days ago an old school-friend (hope she does not see the word ‘old’ there) sent me an email about a reunion picnic being held in a few weeks time by the class two years younger than our's and suggested that I organised our year to crash the event (opps, I meant bolster their numbers). After checking with the organiser that she was OK with my lot attending I set to work. I had organised something similar a couple of years ago (to mark 30 years after leaving school) and still had an email account specifically (with a cool address) for this and more importantly a list of 50 or so email addresses for my cohort. Time will tell if many will be able to make it.
My school was somewhat unusual, it was one of the flagships of the then government’s education policy and being in a socially elite and leftist leaning area of North London attracted more than it’s fair share of the children of the ‘great and good’ as pupils. The fact that the school took over the site of a Public School (Public in the UK sense is private in most sane countries) meant that we also had the most attractive of facilities, especially for sport – how many schools at that time had their own swimming pool and squash courts?
So what became of those sons & daughters of captains of industry, diplomats, academics, journalists, actors, and musicians? – Well, they became captains of industry, diplomats, academics, journalists, actors, and musicians (but not necessarily following the footsteps of their parents)