YOUR POSTS SO FAR....
Peter Dembitzer:
Many thanks to Keith and Trevor and all the bloggers who brought back mostly happy memories. I unfortunately was born before my time and could have been a Protea if SACS had only recognised and accepted my Paul Adams action. My son Steven who is now 24 represented WP U19 with distinction in 2007 being the top bowler in the side that lost to Northerns in the final. My daughter Nicole has just completed first year law( 6 A,s and a B in matric). Keith is so correct about the drop in standards. I am divorced and have been a life insurance broker for 30 years. Hoping to see a lot of you at the 50th.
Many thanks to Keith and Trevor and all the bloggers who brought back mostly happy memories. I unfortunately was born before my time and could have been a Protea if SACS had only recognised and accepted my Paul Adams action. My son Steven who is now 24 represented WP U19 with distinction in 2007 being the top bowler in the side that lost to Northerns in the final. My daughter Nicole has just completed first year law( 6 A,s and a B in matric). Keith is so correct about the drop in standards. I am divorced and have been a life insurance broker for 30 years. Hoping to see a lot of you at the 50th.
Trevor Kaye:
Remember these?
Proverbs 6 (King James Version):
6 Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise:
7 Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler,
8 Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.
9 How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?
10 Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep:
11 So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
12 A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with a froward mouth.
13 He winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers;
14 Frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually; he soweth discord.
15 Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly; suddenly shall he be broken without remedy.
16 These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
17 A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
18 An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief,
19 A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
20 My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother:
21 Bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck.
22 When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee.
23 For the commandment is a lamp; and the law is light; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life:
Remember these?
Proverbs 6 (King James Version):
6 Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise:
7 Which having no guide, overseer, or ruler,
8 Provideth her meat in the summer, and gathereth her food in the harvest.
9 How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?
10 Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep:
11 So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.
12 A naughty person, a wicked man, walketh with a froward mouth.
13 He winketh with his eyes, he speaketh with his feet, he teacheth with his fingers;
14 Frowardness is in his heart, he deviseth mischief continually; he soweth discord.
15 Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly; suddenly shall he be broken without remedy.
16 These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him:
17 A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood,
18 An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief,
19 A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.
20 My son, keep thy father's commandment, and forsake not the law of thy mother:
21 Bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck.
22 When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee.
23 For the commandment is a lamp; and the law is light; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life:
Matthew 25:14-30 (King James Version):
14 For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods.
15 And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey.
16 Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made them other five talents.
17 And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two.
18 But he that had received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money.
19 After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoneth with them.
20 And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more.
21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
22 He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them.
23 His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
24 Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed:
25 And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine.
26 His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed:
27 Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury.
28 Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents.
29 For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.
30 And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
14 For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods.
15 And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey.
16 Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made them other five talents.
17 And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two.
18 But he that had received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money.
19 After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoneth with them.
20 And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more.
21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
22 He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them.
23 His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
24 Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed:
25 And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine.
26 His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed:
27 Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury.
28 Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents.
29 For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.
30 And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
Terry Ortlepp:
This is my story of golf and SACS.
When I was in Standard 9 I contracted Osgood Schlatter' Disease. Yes,Trevor and Bosie - I looked it up.
As a result I was not allowed to run or even do cadets for the whole year.
I watched you guys doing cadets from the sick bay in E1. My cricket and rugby careers therefore came to an end.
After school every day I caught the train back to Bergvliet. Michael Horner(Lefty) always beat me to the station.
Every afternoon I hit golf balls from the pavement outside my house into a vacant field.
My handicap reduced from 22 to 8 in one year.
Mr. Whiteford never liked golf and gave it no recognition at school. Robin Misplon and I won the inter schools, but it was never mentioned.Today you would get a Blue.
My matric year consisted of 3rd team cricket and 2nd team hockey.
One memory I have before hockey practice was an agitated Dan Norton cancelling practice because the Prime Minister had been assassinated.
We held our own practice.My golfing career took off. I came 5th in the W.P.Senior Championship and did well in other senior Opens during 66.
I was therefore selected for the W.P. Junior golf side to play in the Inter-Provincial. The first SACS pupil to do so.
And we won the tournament!
Still no recognition from the Boss.
I did well in the S.A.Boys Championship and made the S.A.Junior team.
No recognition and no name in the Tuckshop.
I must be one of a few pupils selected to represent his country and not be acknowledged by his school.
But I have no regrets as I did enjoy SACS.
And now a titbit only for the class of 66.
My mother took over from Mrs. Danks as Headmasters Secretary in 1968. She was there for 25 years. She only told me the following a few years ago.
The Boss chased her around his desk! Yes, its true. She was a good looking 41 year old widow with a good nature.
Hows that guys?
This is my story of golf and SACS.
When I was in Standard 9 I contracted Osgood Schlatter' Disease. Yes,Trevor and Bosie - I looked it up.
As a result I was not allowed to run or even do cadets for the whole year.
I watched you guys doing cadets from the sick bay in E1. My cricket and rugby careers therefore came to an end.
After school every day I caught the train back to Bergvliet. Michael Horner(Lefty) always beat me to the station.
Every afternoon I hit golf balls from the pavement outside my house into a vacant field.
My handicap reduced from 22 to 8 in one year.
Mr. Whiteford never liked golf and gave it no recognition at school. Robin Misplon and I won the inter schools, but it was never mentioned.Today you would get a Blue.
My matric year consisted of 3rd team cricket and 2nd team hockey.
One memory I have before hockey practice was an agitated Dan Norton cancelling practice because the Prime Minister had been assassinated.
We held our own practice.My golfing career took off. I came 5th in the W.P.Senior Championship and did well in other senior Opens during 66.
I was therefore selected for the W.P. Junior golf side to play in the Inter-Provincial. The first SACS pupil to do so.
And we won the tournament!
Still no recognition from the Boss.
I did well in the S.A.Boys Championship and made the S.A.Junior team.
No recognition and no name in the Tuckshop.
I must be one of a few pupils selected to represent his country and not be acknowledged by his school.
But I have no regrets as I did enjoy SACS.
And now a titbit only for the class of 66.
My mother took over from Mrs. Danks as Headmasters Secretary in 1968. She was there for 25 years. She only told me the following a few years ago.
The Boss chased her around his desk! Yes, its true. She was a good looking 41 year old widow with a good nature.
Hows that guys?
Jack Luyt wrote the vignettes below. Jack matriculated about 10 years after us. This was copied from the SACS OBU Facebook page and it is included for your enjoyment. Thank you Jack Luyt!
Robin Whiteford walked with a limp, from a hockey injury I believe; he gave his life to SACS as pupil at first - and after a brief absence - as teacher and then headmaster; an ardent life-long scholar and academic by nature who was fluent in Ancient Greek and Latin (a story from John Ince has it that on Prizegiving Day in his graduant school year he gave an impromptu valedictory address off-the-cuff in Ancient Greek)....
***
Who of you remembers our awkward standard six (grade eight) new-boy day? Moving uphill through the Montebello Estate from Junior School seniors - to virtual nothingness in our High School grade 8?
Shuffling in class-by-class from the minor quadrangle to morning Assembly in the Hofmeyer Hall, shepherded by self-conscious first-day prefects who were just as new to their jobs as us??
And the unimpressive figure that was RW almost dwarfed by the lectern over which he presided in that lofty wood-paneled hall, commanding silence by his personal power, waiting for the hubbub to subside...
(And often there was a minor flurry in the ranks of the staff teachers on the podium behind him as Louis Knoetze rushed in at the last moment, furiously brushing yesterday-evening - spent with John Ince most likely - out of his disorderly morning hair!)
Then came Silence.
And RW would slowly intone, with dramatic emphasis on each word, from his ancient leather-bound Bible, King James Version, Proverbs 6 :
"Go to the Ant, thou Sluggard..."
(And here he would pause for effect)
"Consider her ways - and be Wise"
(Followed by another pause after each verse)
"Which having no Guide, Overseer, or Ruler,"
(Pause)
'Provideth her meat in the summer,
"And gathereth her food in the harvest."
(Pause)
(Then, fortissimo)
"How Long Wilt Thou Sleep, O Sluggard?"
(Asking a question all of us; who were un-wise, improvident sluggards)
"When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?"
(Pause for effect)
"Yet a little sleep,"
(Pause )
"A little slumber..."
(Another pause )
"A little Folding Of The Hands to Sleep"
(Pause, so we could visualize our hands folding to sleep in class A2 algebra lessons)
"So shall thy poverty come,"
(Pause, prophetic)
"As one that travelleth"
(Long pause)
"and thy want...
"... as an Armed Man."
There was always a reverent hush after that one - it was verily a theatrical performance!!
***
Which SACS Old Boy pre-1972 doesn't get a nostalgic twinge, hearing that? Or, at Friday assembly, The Boss reading out the list of bad boys to visit him in his office for 'an interview'?
And one of them, the name pronounced dryly, EVERY week without fail, always raised a giggle from the whole assembly hall:
"Stohr; B4".
Michael Stohr was in class B4 (grade 9) and an unrepentant naughty boy; if the Boss 'flipped' him at each visit with his malacca cane, Stohr must have left SACS with his bum hardened like gun-holster leather...
My brother Norman was a few years ahead of me - and he also remembered "Stohr, B4"!
Do you remember that?
And what the heck happened to Stohr, B4??
***
Who remembers Corporal Punishment?
'Six-of-the-best' from the Head for a misdemeanor, touching your toes to make your buttocks bulge under your school flannels for maximum impulse. And then a hop-skip-and-jump back down the corridor to the classroom - trying bravely to pretend that there was no pain?
They don't give 'cuts' anymore; corporal punishment is outlawed...
"Tempus fugit; sic transit gloria mundi"
***
“They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson
***
Who remembers the silence of the Oaks in the Major Quadrangle at 5 o' clock of an autumn evening, and the sudden chill as the sun slides behind Devil's Peak?
And then the eerie tramp-tramp-tramp echo of heavy boots on the flagstones, as two members of the school band march the length of the Quad up to the War Memorial? And their haunting bugle-call of the Last Post reverberating through the silent corridors and empty schoolrooms and deserted playing fields?
And how time stood still, then, for us passers-by - in remembrance of the School's great fallen who had given their lives for our freedom:
Da-daaaa...
Da-daaaa...
Da-da-dahdi-da, dah da da daaa...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=McCDWYgVyps
It gives me a neck-shiver, just thinking of it...
***
Do they still sound The Last Post every evening in the quad, I wonder?
Surely, yes.
But do all of today's students understand what it means?
***
John Ince - bless him! He was passionate about the School's Cadet Band...
John was another heart-and-soul SACS teacher - until Camps Bay School head-hunted him when it became obvious that the Education Department would never appoint John as Head after RW retired.
(In those days the powers-that-be felt threatened by the Old Boys Union and did not want an OB in charge.)
John worshipped Robin Whiteford from his own school days under him; he used to tell us how the Cape Argus newspaper published an ongoing dialogue correspondence on one-or-other learned matter; one of the correspondents signed himself 'R A L Balizzy'. And over the years, everyone came to wonder who was this eloquent Balizzy who had so much erudite common-sense to contribute...
Eventually a clever journalist who did crytic crosswords solved the enigma; in Greek 'alba' = white; the model T Ford was a Tin Lizzy - so in cryptic-speak R AL Ba lizzy was R White Ford...
***
I wish that I could have had the priviledge of a full 5 years under tutelage with The Boss!
Here's how I remember RW:
1. Boys who had a 'sick-note' to excuse them from PT (Physical Training = Gym) had to present their 'sick-note' to the head. So I knocked timidly on his oaken door, a few minutes after the half-hour.
What seemed like an hour later, though it was only a minute, a gruff voice called: "Enter".
"What is your name, boy?"
"Luyt, sir"; my surname Luyt is pronounced 'late'.
"And why are you late?" he asked, dryly.
"Because it is my name sir," I replied - which he knew full well, before asking the question deliberately as a gentle leg-pull - because RW had a photographic memory, even for new boys.
It was a moment of his Classical stagecraft that all who studied under him will remember with affection...
***
And RW's greatest love was the Debating Society! Where we learnt so much from his dry sense of humour...
After a debate with the motion: 'Euthanasia Should Be Legalised", the opposing speakers had concentrated on the potential for abuse; that relatives might bump off senile old Granddad for his money.
Said the Boss, commentating on our performance: We were too serious he said; he missed a little humour in our speeches.
Like this, he suggested, dryly:
"Where there's a will....
(pause)
"... there's a way."
"Hmmmmm...?"
***
Who remembers The Boss' last farewell debate in 1972 when he retired? Rodney Ehrlich returned to SACS a few years out of Matric to defend a wickedly-chosen motion:
"Latin Is a Dead Language"!
So Robin Whiteford took the lectern to propose a motion that - in the true spirit of debating - violently contradicted everything he believed in real life!
And a jolly good classical performance he gave too! Rodney dazzled us with a speech about his undergraduate experiences in Latin and Law - witty anecdotes and epigrams, subtly intertwined - which somehow-or-other all ended, like a rabbit out of a conjurer's hat, with various witty Latin improvisations on the theme of 'Ignorantia juris non excusat'; which is to say 'Ignorance of the law is no excuse'
Pyrotechnic stuff!
Yet Robin, perhaps a little moist-eyed by his virtuoso ex-pupil's star performance in the Latin that he had taught him - won the day quietly and effectively.
And oddly - though I still remember Rodney's speech 40 years later - I hardly remember what The Boss said...
It was RW's nunc dimittis...
Was anyone there that evening?
****
Does SACS still have a debating team, I wonder?
With the same polished wooden lectern on the stage of the Hofmeyer Hall?? Where The Boss used to balance his Bible?
And the same heavy leather-bound minutes of every Debating Society meeting from way back in time??
***
2. After RW retired, one evening in my student years I was helping my ex-school buddy Barry Edwards to install stage lighting for a play at Sans Souci girls school just down the road; they had a General Knowledge competition that evening while we were working - and RW was quiz-master.
To one shy grade 9 girl he asked: "Name the unit of electrical power."
"Watt," she replied timidly.
"Electrical ... Power," he repeated a little louder and gravely and forcibly as though he thought she had not heard - and then he smiled wryly with a shy double-take; and that was RW's sense of humour, and we all laughed, including the shy girl...
***
Does anyone know what the heck happened to Barry Edwards? He was a prefect in Matric; studied Electrical Engineering at UCT and then went to England...
***
In my Matric year I was fortunate to win a silver medal in the country-wide Mathematics Olympiad as well as first place in the Archimedes Science exam, and so passed on to my freshman year at University of Cape Town on the slopes of Table Mountain.
And in the meantime, in his retirement, RW the old war-horse had been unable to retire in peace; he had begun to give lunchtime Latin lessons to disadvantaged students who needed the language to pass Law and needed to catch up quick.
I'm told that there was never enough space in his lectures; kids from unrelated courses would pack in just for the joy of listening to him!
So it came to pass that one day I was hitch-hiking down the hill to my little flat at lunchtime and a battered old motor car stopped to give me a lift - and the driver was 'The Boss'!
"Ummm," he asked as we pulled away. "What are YOU studying?"
"Medicine," I replied, almost but not actually saying: "Medicine, sir".
Followed by: 'And what, ah, School did you go to?"
With weighty theatrical emphasis on the 'school'.
(The South African College School is the oldest school in sub-equatorial Africa, and RW was so very proud of that, having given most of his adult life to SACS)
To which I replied: "SACS"
Almost but not actually saying: "SACS, sir".
And we looked at each other meaningfully...
There was a pregnant pause. Entirely theatrical - because he had recognised me with perfect clarity already!
"Ohh..."
Then he asked: 'And what is your name, boy?"
Except he omitted the 'boy' - but in my mind I implied it for him! And this threw me back to our first sick-note interaction back in 1972!
"Luyt," I relied, resisting the urge to say: "Luyt, sir."
And with a sense of deva vu half-expecting him to ask, as in days of yore: "And why are you Luyt?"
But RW, who was a brilliant debater and dramatist was not going to give up this moment of drama. He had (obviously) been avidly reading the school magazine - and he jolly well knew about my minor prestation as yet one more small feather in the cap of SACS!
Quisical pause.
Then:
"'Not, the (ahem) FAMOUS Luyt, perchance?"
I will treasure that moment forever - a brief interaction with the impish sense of humour of a brilliant classical mind...
****
Alan Footman told us that he happened to be in an elevator at Claremont MediClinic the day that Robin Whiteford had a heart attack and the paramedics brought him in on a stretcher with an oxygen mask. Recognising 'The Boss' he exclaimed, involuntarily: "Good day, sir."
And RW looked up feebly and met his eye and wheezed: 'Ahh! Footman! Class A1 of 1973. Latin. How are you my boy?"
And an hour later he was dead...
Robin Whiteford walked with a limp, from a hockey injury I believe; he gave his life to SACS as pupil at first - and after a brief absence - as teacher and then headmaster; an ardent life-long scholar and academic by nature who was fluent in Ancient Greek and Latin (a story from John Ince has it that on Prizegiving Day in his graduant school year he gave an impromptu valedictory address off-the-cuff in Ancient Greek)....
***
Who of you remembers our awkward standard six (grade eight) new-boy day? Moving uphill through the Montebello Estate from Junior School seniors - to virtual nothingness in our High School grade 8?
Shuffling in class-by-class from the minor quadrangle to morning Assembly in the Hofmeyer Hall, shepherded by self-conscious first-day prefects who were just as new to their jobs as us??
And the unimpressive figure that was RW almost dwarfed by the lectern over which he presided in that lofty wood-paneled hall, commanding silence by his personal power, waiting for the hubbub to subside...
(And often there was a minor flurry in the ranks of the staff teachers on the podium behind him as Louis Knoetze rushed in at the last moment, furiously brushing yesterday-evening - spent with John Ince most likely - out of his disorderly morning hair!)
Then came Silence.
And RW would slowly intone, with dramatic emphasis on each word, from his ancient leather-bound Bible, King James Version, Proverbs 6 :
"Go to the Ant, thou Sluggard..."
(And here he would pause for effect)
"Consider her ways - and be Wise"
(Followed by another pause after each verse)
"Which having no Guide, Overseer, or Ruler,"
(Pause)
'Provideth her meat in the summer,
"And gathereth her food in the harvest."
(Pause)
(Then, fortissimo)
"How Long Wilt Thou Sleep, O Sluggard?"
(Asking a question all of us; who were un-wise, improvident sluggards)
"When wilt thou arise out of thy sleep?"
(Pause for effect)
"Yet a little sleep,"
(Pause )
"A little slumber..."
(Another pause )
"A little Folding Of The Hands to Sleep"
(Pause, so we could visualize our hands folding to sleep in class A2 algebra lessons)
"So shall thy poverty come,"
(Pause, prophetic)
"As one that travelleth"
(Long pause)
"and thy want...
"... as an Armed Man."
There was always a reverent hush after that one - it was verily a theatrical performance!!
***
Which SACS Old Boy pre-1972 doesn't get a nostalgic twinge, hearing that? Or, at Friday assembly, The Boss reading out the list of bad boys to visit him in his office for 'an interview'?
And one of them, the name pronounced dryly, EVERY week without fail, always raised a giggle from the whole assembly hall:
"Stohr; B4".
Michael Stohr was in class B4 (grade 9) and an unrepentant naughty boy; if the Boss 'flipped' him at each visit with his malacca cane, Stohr must have left SACS with his bum hardened like gun-holster leather...
My brother Norman was a few years ahead of me - and he also remembered "Stohr, B4"!
Do you remember that?
And what the heck happened to Stohr, B4??
***
Who remembers Corporal Punishment?
'Six-of-the-best' from the Head for a misdemeanor, touching your toes to make your buttocks bulge under your school flannels for maximum impulse. And then a hop-skip-and-jump back down the corridor to the classroom - trying bravely to pretend that there was no pain?
They don't give 'cuts' anymore; corporal punishment is outlawed...
"Tempus fugit; sic transit gloria mundi"
***
“They are not long, the days of wine and roses. Out of a misty dream, our path emerges for a while, then closes, within a dream.”
― Ernest Dowson, The Poems and Prose of Ernest Dowson
***
Who remembers the silence of the Oaks in the Major Quadrangle at 5 o' clock of an autumn evening, and the sudden chill as the sun slides behind Devil's Peak?
And then the eerie tramp-tramp-tramp echo of heavy boots on the flagstones, as two members of the school band march the length of the Quad up to the War Memorial? And their haunting bugle-call of the Last Post reverberating through the silent corridors and empty schoolrooms and deserted playing fields?
And how time stood still, then, for us passers-by - in remembrance of the School's great fallen who had given their lives for our freedom:
Da-daaaa...
Da-daaaa...
Da-da-dahdi-da, dah da da daaa...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=McCDWYgVyps
It gives me a neck-shiver, just thinking of it...
***
Do they still sound The Last Post every evening in the quad, I wonder?
Surely, yes.
But do all of today's students understand what it means?
***
John Ince - bless him! He was passionate about the School's Cadet Band...
John was another heart-and-soul SACS teacher - until Camps Bay School head-hunted him when it became obvious that the Education Department would never appoint John as Head after RW retired.
(In those days the powers-that-be felt threatened by the Old Boys Union and did not want an OB in charge.)
John worshipped Robin Whiteford from his own school days under him; he used to tell us how the Cape Argus newspaper published an ongoing dialogue correspondence on one-or-other learned matter; one of the correspondents signed himself 'R A L Balizzy'. And over the years, everyone came to wonder who was this eloquent Balizzy who had so much erudite common-sense to contribute...
Eventually a clever journalist who did crytic crosswords solved the enigma; in Greek 'alba' = white; the model T Ford was a Tin Lizzy - so in cryptic-speak R AL Ba lizzy was R White Ford...
***
I wish that I could have had the priviledge of a full 5 years under tutelage with The Boss!
Here's how I remember RW:
1. Boys who had a 'sick-note' to excuse them from PT (Physical Training = Gym) had to present their 'sick-note' to the head. So I knocked timidly on his oaken door, a few minutes after the half-hour.
What seemed like an hour later, though it was only a minute, a gruff voice called: "Enter".
"What is your name, boy?"
"Luyt, sir"; my surname Luyt is pronounced 'late'.
"And why are you late?" he asked, dryly.
"Because it is my name sir," I replied - which he knew full well, before asking the question deliberately as a gentle leg-pull - because RW had a photographic memory, even for new boys.
It was a moment of his Classical stagecraft that all who studied under him will remember with affection...
***
And RW's greatest love was the Debating Society! Where we learnt so much from his dry sense of humour...
After a debate with the motion: 'Euthanasia Should Be Legalised", the opposing speakers had concentrated on the potential for abuse; that relatives might bump off senile old Granddad for his money.
Said the Boss, commentating on our performance: We were too serious he said; he missed a little humour in our speeches.
Like this, he suggested, dryly:
"Where there's a will....
(pause)
"... there's a way."
"Hmmmmm...?"
***
Who remembers The Boss' last farewell debate in 1972 when he retired? Rodney Ehrlich returned to SACS a few years out of Matric to defend a wickedly-chosen motion:
"Latin Is a Dead Language"!
So Robin Whiteford took the lectern to propose a motion that - in the true spirit of debating - violently contradicted everything he believed in real life!
And a jolly good classical performance he gave too! Rodney dazzled us with a speech about his undergraduate experiences in Latin and Law - witty anecdotes and epigrams, subtly intertwined - which somehow-or-other all ended, like a rabbit out of a conjurer's hat, with various witty Latin improvisations on the theme of 'Ignorantia juris non excusat'; which is to say 'Ignorance of the law is no excuse'
Pyrotechnic stuff!
Yet Robin, perhaps a little moist-eyed by his virtuoso ex-pupil's star performance in the Latin that he had taught him - won the day quietly and effectively.
And oddly - though I still remember Rodney's speech 40 years later - I hardly remember what The Boss said...
It was RW's nunc dimittis...
Was anyone there that evening?
****
Does SACS still have a debating team, I wonder?
With the same polished wooden lectern on the stage of the Hofmeyer Hall?? Where The Boss used to balance his Bible?
And the same heavy leather-bound minutes of every Debating Society meeting from way back in time??
***
2. After RW retired, one evening in my student years I was helping my ex-school buddy Barry Edwards to install stage lighting for a play at Sans Souci girls school just down the road; they had a General Knowledge competition that evening while we were working - and RW was quiz-master.
To one shy grade 9 girl he asked: "Name the unit of electrical power."
"Watt," she replied timidly.
"Electrical ... Power," he repeated a little louder and gravely and forcibly as though he thought she had not heard - and then he smiled wryly with a shy double-take; and that was RW's sense of humour, and we all laughed, including the shy girl...
***
Does anyone know what the heck happened to Barry Edwards? He was a prefect in Matric; studied Electrical Engineering at UCT and then went to England...
***
In my Matric year I was fortunate to win a silver medal in the country-wide Mathematics Olympiad as well as first place in the Archimedes Science exam, and so passed on to my freshman year at University of Cape Town on the slopes of Table Mountain.
And in the meantime, in his retirement, RW the old war-horse had been unable to retire in peace; he had begun to give lunchtime Latin lessons to disadvantaged students who needed the language to pass Law and needed to catch up quick.
I'm told that there was never enough space in his lectures; kids from unrelated courses would pack in just for the joy of listening to him!
So it came to pass that one day I was hitch-hiking down the hill to my little flat at lunchtime and a battered old motor car stopped to give me a lift - and the driver was 'The Boss'!
"Ummm," he asked as we pulled away. "What are YOU studying?"
"Medicine," I replied, almost but not actually saying: "Medicine, sir".
Followed by: 'And what, ah, School did you go to?"
With weighty theatrical emphasis on the 'school'.
(The South African College School is the oldest school in sub-equatorial Africa, and RW was so very proud of that, having given most of his adult life to SACS)
To which I replied: "SACS"
Almost but not actually saying: "SACS, sir".
And we looked at each other meaningfully...
There was a pregnant pause. Entirely theatrical - because he had recognised me with perfect clarity already!
"Ohh..."
Then he asked: 'And what is your name, boy?"
Except he omitted the 'boy' - but in my mind I implied it for him! And this threw me back to our first sick-note interaction back in 1972!
"Luyt," I relied, resisting the urge to say: "Luyt, sir."
And with a sense of deva vu half-expecting him to ask, as in days of yore: "And why are you Luyt?"
But RW, who was a brilliant debater and dramatist was not going to give up this moment of drama. He had (obviously) been avidly reading the school magazine - and he jolly well knew about my minor prestation as yet one more small feather in the cap of SACS!
Quisical pause.
Then:
"'Not, the (ahem) FAMOUS Luyt, perchance?"
I will treasure that moment forever - a brief interaction with the impish sense of humour of a brilliant classical mind...
****
Alan Footman told us that he happened to be in an elevator at Claremont MediClinic the day that Robin Whiteford had a heart attack and the paramedics brought him in on a stretcher with an oxygen mask. Recognising 'The Boss' he exclaimed, involuntarily: "Good day, sir."
And RW looked up feebly and met his eye and wheezed: 'Ahh! Footman! Class A1 of 1973. Latin. How are you my boy?"
And an hour later he was dead...
MR TONY WEAVER’S MEMORIES OF ‘THE BOSS’, MR ROBIN WHITEFORD
[In 1974 Tony Weaver was Head Prefect of Rosedale and a School Prefect. For many years he wrote a column for the CAPE TIME - AN EDITED VERSION OF HIS COLUMN ON SEPTEMBER 26 2003 follows]:
On Wednesday night I was back at my alma mater, SACS. It is about to enter its 175th anniversary year and the gathering was the launch by Archbishop Desmond Tutu of Neil Veitch’s magnificently illustrated and researched book, SACS 175 – A CELEBRATION. The Hofmeyr Hall was filled with familiar faces, all of them 29 years older than I remember, but there was one missing – the personality who was my Headmaster for three years, the legendary Robin Whiteford. ‘The Boss’ passed on, to that great classroom in the sky, in 1986. He walked a fine line in his hatred of the apartheid system, and of Nationalist rule. When I was in the debating society, topics would inevitably be political, things like ‘Can apartheid be justified on moral and religious grounds?’ or ‘Is communism necessarily a bad thing?’.
When I was a boarder at Rosedale, ‘The Boss’ was present at meals. Every evening at supper he would ask if there were any questions. One evening an indignant boy stood up and said, “Sir, I found a worm in my porridge this morning.” The Boss replied, “Well keep it quiet boy, or else the others will also want one!” Latin and Greek were ‘The Boss’s’ academic passion in life. He would always say grace in Latin at Rosedale meals, and if he or another senior master were not present, it would fall to one of the boys to say grace in their place. Such was my lot one day, and a bunch of other Latin students and I conspired to compose an appropriate grace.
I delivered a short homily in Latin, ending with “cibus sterkus erat’ – the food was awful. I hadn’t realised that ‘The Boss’ was listening at the door, and as I walked out, he pulled me aside and said: “Hmmm, Weaver, not bad, but your grammar’s up the pole: cibus is a neutral noun, it should have been cibum sterkum erat!
Addendum to the above article:
Tony is my next younger brother, after Alex, and Tony was followed by David.
For many years Tony wrote "Man Friday" for the Cape Times. Then Iqbal Surve took over and a short while later Tony and many others were fired.
Tony now writes "Man Friday" for Die Burger - How times have changed !
Cheers
John Weaver
Class 66