The original thread which I started about the school has disappeared, so I'm re-posting below the piece I wrote for this thread of my early memories of the school. It would be great to hear memories from other pupils of the school.
Kingsthorne Infant and Junior School (formerly Cranbourne Road Infant and Junior School)
The school was built in 1931 to accommodate the rapid expansion in the number of families being housed in the newly developed Kingstanding area. Set within a substantial 1930s housing estate, its design and facilities would have been the most up to date in school design. Its modern, low-level architecture was a vastly different to that of the old Victorian schools.
Built around a quadrangle, with a large, central, grass area the school had an air of calmness and security. The edges of the grass quadrangle were surrounded by enclosed walkways and the classrooms facing the large playgrounds to the back and front had covered, but open walkways. Many of the classrooms had views of the playgrounds around its perimeter. All the woodwork for these walkways in the 1950s was painted green. But I believe these were originally brown. The walkway branched away from the school at one point and continued a route towards the outside toilet block. Nearby was a greenhouse and a brick-built air-raid shelter. By the time I attended the school, the original use of the shelter had thankfully passed and it became the secret domain of the caretaker for his tools and equipment. The caretaker's house was on the Cranbourne Road side near the school entrance. Cranbourne Road could be seen down below us from the playground on that side. This seemed to us youngsters like a very steep drop.
Adjacent to the playground, on the Tansley Road side of the school was an enormous brick wall, behind which was a series of wooden huts. Occasionally these huts were used for lessons and it is here that I learned about £ s d. The end hut nearest the Tansley Road school entrance housed a nursery for pre-school children, but I never attended nursery, I went to a childminder.
As for most new pupils, my first day at school at the age of 5 was pretty memorable. On arrival at 9.00 a.m I was allocated my cloakroom peg for my coat and pump bag. I had my own pump bag containing my new plimsoles, some biscuits in a brown paper bag and a sugar mouse. (The sugar mouse was probably not allowed, but was a surprise popped into my bag from my mum).
I was daily mesmerised by the practice of ringing the school hand bell. Sometimes a child would walk along the covered corridor holding the bell upside down by its clapper before swinging it back and forth to announce the start of break, lunch-time or home time. I so hoped that one day I'd be chosen to carry out that job. But that responsibility would have to wait until I reached the junior section of the school.
As the morning progressed, the smell of cooking would slowly waft around the playground. Cooking of school meals was carried out in another row of huts on the Tansley Road side. Liver and onions always springs to mind. Its smell never fails to transport me back to those early school days. Sadly there's no escaping the fact that some of the cooking was not at its best, especially mashed potato and custard. I think almost all school mashed potato across the land has at one time or another suffered with 'black eye' affliction and custard with its lumpy, floury bits.
My first day at school flew past. At 4.00 the boy walked the corridor holding the bell upside down by the clapper and, with a long swing, rang out its sound. I was shocked and disappointed that the day was over. When I politely asked my lovely teacher: "Shall I come back tomorrow?" she kindly replied "Yes please"! I expect she later had a little chuckle about that later on with her colleagues in the staffroom.
The school routine quickly established itself in my mind. Each day started off with assembly in the hall. There was an old record player (with an arm and needle) which was always set to play a piece of classical music as all the classes entered the hall. The most popular piece was the 'flight of the bumblebee' - I don't know if that's the actual title, but that's what we called it. One of the many talks by the Headteacher related the origins of the name of Kingsthorne school. He told us it was inspired by a story about an old man who'd been walking and rested his walking stick on the ground. From that a new shrub grew which had thorns. Now whether that's the actual story or not I can't say, but that's how it registered in my mind. The story most probably contained an important message for us children, but it if did, it by-passed my understanding.
The days in Kingsthorne Infants were filled with wonderful activities: games, talks by interesting people (e.g. road safety!), writing with dipping pens and blotting paper, knitting, sewing and preparing for special events like the Christmas nativity or Harvest Festival. Many absorbing hours were spent making our first Christmas paper lanterns and paper chains which we'd string across the classroom. We also spent much time in the build-up to Christmas rehearsing the Nativity. One year I was chosen to be the Angel Gabriel, the following year I was 'H' in our MERRY CHRISTMAS card line up. At Easter, the line across the classroom would support a host of coloured paper baskets containing little paper easter eggs or chicks. At Harvest Festival we'd be asked to take food into school to contribute to a local care home. It was always a last minute scamble to find something to take in from home and so my contribution could have been anything from a tin of baked beans or digestive biscuits to a beautifully home grown cabbage from our garden.
In the winter or on wet days we had games lessons in the hall. There were the usual benches to balance on and a few climbing bars to clamber up the wall. Our lesson usually started off with throwing small bean bags through enormous hoops on high poles. Not very challenging, but I loved the feel of the bean bag as you tossed it from one hand to the other. Very satisfying.
When the weather was fine, we had rounders games outside in the playground on the Tansley Road side. We sometimes combined games with learning french phrases too. Must have been some modern idea to make it fun to learn another language. We had lessons on handling money in the pretend shop in the huts. And in geography lessons we'd be allowed to check out the weather measurements in a special weather station box which was in the middle of the grass quadrangle. One special geography project involvedthe whole class making a replica of the Elan Valley in papier-mâché. The grass quadrangle was also sometimes used for lessons in summer. I remember making a basic photo out there, with a piece oflino. However, to this day I have no idea how it worked.
The monkey bars (climbing bars) in the side playground near the air-aid shelter were a favourite with us girls at break times. These consisted of a series of bars for swinging on or a climbing frame for crawling up. We had great fun performing acrobatic moves. The bars were like scaffolding and the floor was solid concrete, unlike the soft surfaces playgrounds have today. So it was a risky business performing these gymnastic moves, but that didn't seem to bother us at all.
We had day trips to Kenilworth Castle, Dudley Zoo and Aston Hall. Mum filled the Duffle bag with a Packer Mac, cheese sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper and a biscuit. I had a special small, felt purse in the shape of an Austrian hat for my spending money. In my mind I was rich and spent the entire coach journey planning for all the things I was going to buy on the trip.
Miss Mole, Headmistress of the infants section would reward you with dolly mixtures for good work. Her office was up some steps to a second level, but only this part of the school had a second floor, all the classrooms were single storey. I remember very little about Miss Mole, but I vividly remember her highly valued little bags of dolly mixtures.
These days were the happiest schooldays of my life. One day in the not too distant future, the dreaded talk of tests and 11 plus exams would arrive. But for now these were carefree times when each day rolled happily on into the next.
By Viv Walker
Kingsthorne Infant and Junior School (formerly Cranbourne Road Infant and Junior School)
The school was built in 1931 to accommodate the rapid expansion in the number of families being housed in the newly developed Kingstanding area. Set within a substantial 1930s housing estate, its design and facilities would have been the most up to date in school design. Its modern, low-level architecture was a vastly different to that of the old Victorian schools.
Built around a quadrangle, with a large, central, grass area the school had an air of calmness and security. The edges of the grass quadrangle were surrounded by enclosed walkways and the classrooms facing the large playgrounds to the back and front had covered, but open walkways. Many of the classrooms had views of the playgrounds around its perimeter. All the woodwork for these walkways in the 1950s was painted green. But I believe these were originally brown. The walkway branched away from the school at one point and continued a route towards the outside toilet block. Nearby was a greenhouse and a brick-built air-raid shelter. By the time I attended the school, the original use of the shelter had thankfully passed and it became the secret domain of the caretaker for his tools and equipment. The caretaker's house was on the Cranbourne Road side near the school entrance. Cranbourne Road could be seen down below us from the playground on that side. This seemed to us youngsters like a very steep drop.
Adjacent to the playground, on the Tansley Road side of the school was an enormous brick wall, behind which was a series of wooden huts. Occasionally these huts were used for lessons and it is here that I learned about £ s d. The end hut nearest the Tansley Road school entrance housed a nursery for pre-school children, but I never attended nursery, I went to a childminder.
As for most new pupils, my first day at school at the age of 5 was pretty memorable. On arrival at 9.00 a.m I was allocated my cloakroom peg for my coat and pump bag. I had my own pump bag containing my new plimsoles, some biscuits in a brown paper bag and a sugar mouse. (The sugar mouse was probably not allowed, but was a surprise popped into my bag from my mum).
I was daily mesmerised by the practice of ringing the school hand bell. Sometimes a child would walk along the covered corridor holding the bell upside down by its clapper before swinging it back and forth to announce the start of break, lunch-time or home time. I so hoped that one day I'd be chosen to carry out that job. But that responsibility would have to wait until I reached the junior section of the school.
As the morning progressed, the smell of cooking would slowly waft around the playground. Cooking of school meals was carried out in another row of huts on the Tansley Road side. Liver and onions always springs to mind. Its smell never fails to transport me back to those early school days. Sadly there's no escaping the fact that some of the cooking was not at its best, especially mashed potato and custard. I think almost all school mashed potato across the land has at one time or another suffered with 'black eye' affliction and custard with its lumpy, floury bits.
My first day at school flew past. At 4.00 the boy walked the corridor holding the bell upside down by the clapper and, with a long swing, rang out its sound. I was shocked and disappointed that the day was over. When I politely asked my lovely teacher: "Shall I come back tomorrow?" she kindly replied "Yes please"! I expect she later had a little chuckle about that later on with her colleagues in the staffroom.
The school routine quickly established itself in my mind. Each day started off with assembly in the hall. There was an old record player (with an arm and needle) which was always set to play a piece of classical music as all the classes entered the hall. The most popular piece was the 'flight of the bumblebee' - I don't know if that's the actual title, but that's what we called it. One of the many talks by the Headteacher related the origins of the name of Kingsthorne school. He told us it was inspired by a story about an old man who'd been walking and rested his walking stick on the ground. From that a new shrub grew which had thorns. Now whether that's the actual story or not I can't say, but that's how it registered in my mind. The story most probably contained an important message for us children, but it if did, it by-passed my understanding.
The days in Kingsthorne Infants were filled with wonderful activities: games, talks by interesting people (e.g. road safety!), writing with dipping pens and blotting paper, knitting, sewing and preparing for special events like the Christmas nativity or Harvest Festival. Many absorbing hours were spent making our first Christmas paper lanterns and paper chains which we'd string across the classroom. We also spent much time in the build-up to Christmas rehearsing the Nativity. One year I was chosen to be the Angel Gabriel, the following year I was 'H' in our MERRY CHRISTMAS card line up. At Easter, the line across the classroom would support a host of coloured paper baskets containing little paper easter eggs or chicks. At Harvest Festival we'd be asked to take food into school to contribute to a local care home. It was always a last minute scamble to find something to take in from home and so my contribution could have been anything from a tin of baked beans or digestive biscuits to a beautifully home grown cabbage from our garden.
In the winter or on wet days we had games lessons in the hall. There were the usual benches to balance on and a few climbing bars to clamber up the wall. Our lesson usually started off with throwing small bean bags through enormous hoops on high poles. Not very challenging, but I loved the feel of the bean bag as you tossed it from one hand to the other. Very satisfying.
When the weather was fine, we had rounders games outside in the playground on the Tansley Road side. We sometimes combined games with learning french phrases too. Must have been some modern idea to make it fun to learn another language. We had lessons on handling money in the pretend shop in the huts. And in geography lessons we'd be allowed to check out the weather measurements in a special weather station box which was in the middle of the grass quadrangle. One special geography project involvedthe whole class making a replica of the Elan Valley in papier-mâché. The grass quadrangle was also sometimes used for lessons in summer. I remember making a basic photo out there, with a piece oflino. However, to this day I have no idea how it worked.
The monkey bars (climbing bars) in the side playground near the air-aid shelter were a favourite with us girls at break times. These consisted of a series of bars for swinging on or a climbing frame for crawling up. We had great fun performing acrobatic moves. The bars were like scaffolding and the floor was solid concrete, unlike the soft surfaces playgrounds have today. So it was a risky business performing these gymnastic moves, but that didn't seem to bother us at all.
We had day trips to Kenilworth Castle, Dudley Zoo and Aston Hall. Mum filled the Duffle bag with a Packer Mac, cheese sandwiches wrapped in greaseproof paper and a biscuit. I had a special small, felt purse in the shape of an Austrian hat for my spending money. In my mind I was rich and spent the entire coach journey planning for all the things I was going to buy on the trip.
Miss Mole, Headmistress of the infants section would reward you with dolly mixtures for good work. Her office was up some steps to a second level, but only this part of the school had a second floor, all the classrooms were single storey. I remember very little about Miss Mole, but I vividly remember her highly valued little bags of dolly mixtures.
These days were the happiest schooldays of my life. One day in the not too distant future, the dreaded talk of tests and 11 plus exams would arrive. But for now these were carefree times when each day rolled happily on into the next.
By Viv Walker
nice little school to go to and to work for..still going strong
