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40 Year Reunion held on Saturday 24th February 2007
at the Broadwater Pagoda Resort Hotel
Remembering the Terrace
The Class of ‘67
The boys were up to old mischief at the 40th anniversary of the Class of 67’s graduation when we gathered at the Pagoda on 24 February this year.
Making allowances for balding heads, new shapes, false teeth and grey hair, we soon engaged our memories and recounted those days of the 50’s and 60’s as if they were yesterday. Some haven’t changed at all and look fit enough to still run out with the Trinity Firsts whatever the game. As I gazed at Bob Beardman and Mike Shepherdson, I saw again Bob’s bullet-throw from the boundary that crashed into Mike’s gloves and won us the cricket grand final in ’67. I recalled Bob’s 4 wickets the previous over that made the victory possible. Those were the days!
We started at the Terrace in 1959 when the old building creaked and moaned against the winds blowing across the Swan River. Brother Collopy was Headmaster and to his beat the whole school sang the old anthem ‘Proud we sing of CBC’ as if our lives depended on it. Our teachers in years 4, 5 and 6 at the Terrace were Mrs O’Connor, Mrs Rose, Mrs Smith, Br Murray and Mr Moloney - and they fired us with fear and fury. No wonder we put both these into practice whenever we took to the playing fields of Langley Park, our sports ground in those days - apart from the occasional trek to play cricket at Wellington Square. There, John Bryant, my mate, belted me all over the park to make a century in ten minutes. In all my years at the Terrace and Trinity, I never dismissed him once, and my retiring average would be in excess of 3,400 if ever I were to do so. My only consolation is that John later played for the Australian Under 19’s and toured India. He could bat alright.
In those dark Terrace days, when the school setting resembled that in a Dickens’ novel, we yearned for release and adventure. I remember we tormented Mrs O’Connor until she wailed. Mr Maloney was so busy strapping us that the ritual took most of the period and he collapsed exhausted. When Br Laidlaw took us for footy at Langley, we deliberately kicked the Burley into the river for fun. At choir practice, which seemed to occur every day, we were badly behaved – such that dear Mrs Kerr, our gifted choir mistress, smoked a carton of Craven A once we left. We ran riot on the handball court, played footy like Polly Farmer, and believed that all things were possible – whatever the challenge.
Most of us, including me, were mates with Chris Brockwell, who indulged us in the luxuries of the city’s old Adelphi Hotel, where he and his family lived. I’m forever grateful to Chris for his and his family’s generosity in those tough times.
We remembered too our many devotions in the old school Chapel – on the top floor near the corner at Victoria Square. Mrs Smith convinced us that if we prepared our soiled souls properly and made a perfect Novena, we would all go straight to Heaven upon our death, which always seemed to be imminent. In those days Catholics were at war with everyone - especially Communists and rabble from the state schools, who put our lives in jeopardy.
I’m not sure my buddy Dave Purcell ever completed the perfect Novena at the Terrace. He was the source and seller of cigarettes and other shady delights that captured the imagination of the senior students and became the basis of his successful, reputable career in business. His favourite song, which he sang on public transport regularly, was ‘Bulldust was all the Band Could Play’, and he sang it with gusto.
Dave attended the re-union and hasn’t changed. During the formal speech made by John Kent, he shouted hilarities from the side, and we all wished Br Trembath were there again to belt him into silence. Dave said that Br Trembath had perfected the art of the ‘cuts’, and his hands still bear the scars to prove it. No such pain was inflicted by Mr Gerry Almond, who taught us in Year 8, and whose efforts with the strap were ineffectual. We used to laugh, consoling him that it was the thought and intention that mattered in his case.
We moved from the Terrace to Trinity in 1962, when the college floated like a ship on bare sand, and its grounds sank 12 inches each year. We expected to arrive some day and find it gone – vanished like the ruins of ancient Egypt. On one occasion the gap under the school was so large that my buddy Phil Smith and I crawled under to assess the engineering and wonder about a solution. Thank God we survived! In those days we witnessed the tireless work of Br Carrigg, who planted all the trees and gardens as an act of devotion and to tame the desert landscape of that time. His work then has transformed the College into its soft, green, fertile environment today.
As the years progressed, and our interests moved to higher planes (including Our Lady’s College up the road where I discovered my wife, Philomena, in Year 7), we experienced some of the most testing years of our life. At Trinity our teachers included Br Kelly, Br Carrigg, Br Seaman, Br Faulkner, Br Drake, Br Hoy, Br Burke, Br Johns, Br Marshall, Br Donohoe, Br Trembath, Br Tobin, Br Mann, Br Cole, Br Roberton, Br Cronin, Mr Laurie Smith, Mr Eddie Martin, Mr Tony Curtis, Mr Gerry Almond and Mr Wilson – amongst others. It was a world of discovery and transformation – study, sport, religion, music, cadets and competition. Some survived better than others. We had a go and were the final graduating class before the College’s acceptance into the Public Schools Association in 1968 – after so many victories fought bravely in the Catholic Schools’ Association.
We were pleased that Kevin Wainwright, Peter Langoulant and Michael Bell travelled from Adelaide, Melbourne and Sydney to be there. We were grateful that Mr Tony Curtis attended as our guest and recalled past glories. He looks younger and fitter than we do. Tony became the first lay Headmaster of Trinity and retired only a few years ago.
So, on we go. We sang the old anthem and barracked a few war cries, then toasted the next 40 years. Let’s hope our remaining years shine brightly, and may every blessing be on the College and its community, always. Go Trinity!
Chris Waddell
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