I attended only two schools as a child, that is if you disregard the month or so when I was sent to Star of the Sea Convent school in Southport on the Gold Coast.
For some reason Mum and I were staying with Gran and Pop Cassidy; temporarily as it turned out. They lived in the Manager’s quarters above the Commonwealth Bank in Southport. It was, and still is, near the eastern end of Scarborough Street, less than a hundred meters from the school.
Life Can Sometimes be Cruel
I was in Prep 2 at my real school. For someone so advanced scholastically, I was rather disgusted that, because of the shortness of my stay, I was placed in Prep 1 at Star of the Sea.
Nundah Convent
My real school was St Josephs Catholic Primary at Nundah (Nundah Convent) where our family was well known. Mum’s elder sister, Florence Irene Caldwell Cassidy (Sister Pius or just Pi), was a member of the order of St Joseph Nuns. They ran the school and the Nuns occupied all the teaching positions. At the time I was there, Pi was stationed at St Josephs Convent at Hunters Hill, Sydney so I did not have her to protect me.
I will remember ‘till my dying day the joy of being asked to tell the class how to spell “baby”. Full of confidence I blurted out, “babby”. “No” said the teacher, “Can anyone help Brian out?” I don’t recall if anyone could or whether the teacher had to tell us. I was so deflated.
I found out when I was somewhat older that at least one Nun secretly carried a flame for my uncle, Frederick Reginald Cassidy (Reg). He died in a plane accident four months after I was born.
The fact that I apparently bore some resemblance to Reg saved me from a few, but not a lot, of canings. On one such occasion, I was sent to the head teacher for a caning. It was usually for not paying attention though the actual reason this time now escapes me. As she lined me up, she muttered, “Oh! Reg Cassidy”, and sent me back to class.
I can say with all confidence that I got more whacks with the cane in my four and a bit years at Nundah Convent than I got during the remainder of my school life.
Ken London
While I was at Nundah Convent, I met Ken London, a country boy who, with his family, had moved in with his grandparents. Their home was behind a general store they owned and operated, quite close to our place. Although we were two opposites in personality, we became good mates and remain so to this day.
Very early in my grade five year, when I was still at Nundah Convent, we moved to our newly purchased home at Chermside. By this time, Ken was attending St Columbans Christian Brothers College at Albion Heights in Brisbane (Columbans). It was a boys only school with classes from grade 5 to Senior (grade 12) .
In spite of the fact we were now living about four kilometres from Nundah Convent, not on a through public transport route, I hung in there. From memory, Mum felt some sort of obligation to the school.
I could catch a bus of a morning but would have to walk the last kilometre or so to school. Afternoon services were rare. I had to retrace my morning trek and, if I missed the bus, or it was too full to stop, I would have to walk the rest of the way home. It was a bit much for a ten year old.
Columbans
I do not remember the catalyst, but eventually it was decided I too should go to Columbans.
Our family had a connection with my new school also. Reg was a first day student. That connection was reinforced when Rob and I were the first couple to be married in the recently constructed school Chapel. As it turned out, Ken and his wife Di were married there also - one month later, the second and last couple. The Catholic Archbishop of Brisbane heard of our marriages and proclaimed that the practice had to cease. It did not just apply to Columbans but to all schools in the Diocese. It was taking money out of the pockets of parish clergy. How pathetic was that?
Several years after I left Columbans, sadly it moved to the town of Caboolture north of Brisbane. It became co-ed and ceased its connection with the Christian Brothers. A few years ago, I went there for a school reunion. The only thing I recognized was the school colours. As for the old Columbans at Albion Heights, it is now a retirement village and, as for the school reunion, it turned out to be, unashamedly, a high-pressure money raiser. Blah!
There was a bus terminus just down the road from home at Chermside. The bus went from there to Brisbane city via Albion Heights where there was a stop directly across the road from the school. How fantastic was that!
The bus fare was one penny (one cent). When it eventually rose to twopence (also one cent), I had to pay it going to school but would always try to save a penny coming home. I could do that because the driver would not know how far I was going when I asked for a penny ticket. When I got off, he would not know that I had not paid the full price. It worked often but some drivers were a wakeup and I would get a bit of a tongue lashing.
Going into a new class at a brand new school, part way through the year, was a bit daunting. However, the Brother in charge of the class was very understanding. When he asked me if there was anyone in the class I knew, I looked around and spotted Ken. What a relief.
By the time I arrived, Ken had settled in well and had developed a following. The group became known as The London Gang. As a raw class member, straight out of Convent school, I was not accepted immediately. It took a great deal of patience on my behalf before I became established as a member.
I remained at Columbans for the rest of my school life, finishing Senior in 1959. Unlike Ken, I was no great scholar, having little interest in homework. What frustrated me about Ken was, he had no great interest in homework either. The difference between the two of us was, he had a photographic memory while I had a sieve. He would read something and it would stick like glue. However, I must say, other than Latin language studies, I never failed one subject in any of the three public examinations I sat for (scholarship – year 8, Junior – Year 10 and Senior – year 12). It was enough to get me through life thus far.
When Rob and I married, Ken was my Best Man. I repaid the favour when he and Di married. I am not one for using the telephone so it is Ken, who now lives in country Queensland, who calls me regularly for a catch up chat. He is a fountain of information as he still keeps contact with many of the Gang.
I made a number of other friends at Columbans, some near neighbours and some not.
Doug Perry
Doug Perry was a great mate. We were inseparable. He lived just down the road so we spent quite a bit of time at each other’s homes. Like me, he wanted to become a priest. Unlike me, he enrolled at the seminary. Some two years later, he decided the life was not really for him, so he left.
Doug soon began dating a girl who, not long later, became pregnant. I think it was probably shame that caused the two of them to move to Townsville where they married. Other than the fact he had apparently become addicted to alcohol, I heard very little of him for many years. However, one night, while sitting at my computer, I had a strong urge to contact him.
I looked up the White Pages and found three DJ Perrys in Queensland. I was going to start calling them but as it was getting late, I let the opportunity pass. Just two days later, I received a call from Ken to tell me that Doug Perry had died a couple of nights earlier. I must admit that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
John McNee
Then there was John McNee who also lived near our place. We shared a very close relationship up to the end of our Junior year. We drifted apart when he won a scholarship to attend the prestigious Nudgee College Christian Brothers School as a boarder for years 11 and 12. I did not get to see him very much after that as he developed a new group of friends from the new school.
John went on to study medicine at university and became Head of Paediatrics at the Mater Mothers’ Hospital in Brisbane. He was still a relatively young man when, one day while driving to work, he pulled up by the side of the road and died from a heart attack. It came as a great shock as he was thought to be in very fit physical condition. He was an excellent runner himself and was a part time running coach at the time of his death.
John Skeehan
Even after transferring to Sydney, I continued a friendship with John Skeehan, another close neighbour when we were growing up. He was a grade above me at Columbans and our families were friends. It was his father, Vince, who in 1959 as Clerk of Petty Sessions in Caboolture, arranged an appointment for me with the local police sergeant to undertake a driving test. It was two days after my seventeenth birthday.
Again, it was a shock when I got word that, while on the roof of his house cleaning debris from the gutter, he cut his leg on one of the roof irons as a result of which he developed a blood clot that caused his death.
Doug Perry, John McNee and John Skeehan, my three good mates who lived within a radius of one hundred and fifty meters of our place at Chermside, all died at an early age. I am the only one left and consider myself very blessed.
Alan Gibney
Then there was Alan Gibney. We were friends but not what I would have called best mates. However, he had a cousin who I thought would be an acceptable substitute should Rob reject my advances. Fortunately, I never had to find out.
Of interest, the cousin’s name was Shayne. I liked it and when Rob and I had a son, we discussed name options. One I brought up was Shane. She liked it, and so it came to pass.
Of interest also, the last time I saw Alan, which was the first time in well over fifty years, he told me he was about to ask me to be his Best Man when my transfer to Longreach by the Commonwealth Bank in 1966 foiled his plans. He also told me he was currently fighting cancer. I haven’t spoken to him since and hope he has licked it.
Teddy Griffiths
Another classmate I should mention was Teddy Griffiths. His daughter, Rachael, is an actress who has received considerable critical acclaim. I did see an interview with her a few years ago when she referred to the close relationship she had with her father and told how she had been devastated when he died.
Life does throw many curved balls.
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