Tag: Harrismith High School

  • Annie’s Consolation

    Annie’s Consolation

    Or: Moenie worry nie
    Or: There, their, they’re

    The big annual prize-giving took place in 1972 and I didn’t win a single trophy, cup, certificate or handshake. But I was not to worry, Annie insisted. Here’s the letter she wrote me from George in the Southern Cape where she spent the only three years of her ninety outside Harrismith:

    15th

    Have just received your mother’s letter, containing the report on school prize-giving. Good for you son – I’m very pleased with your results. I’m sure you are not upset about not winning a cup. Think of the bother of cleaning them. In any case you can always show off the Bland Racing Cups!

    Love to all

    Annie

    So there! Who needs to win trophies anyway? Unless it’s for horseracing. That’s different and highly prized. Even if that sport may have contributed to losing the farm.

    I just love the characteristic unemotional, no-nonsense approach. That’s me Gran! That’s her in George, looking queenish with matching twinset and corgi accessory.

    Here she is in George again round about the same time, in a dress and uncomfortable shoes cos it’s a wedding. Corgi at her feet. Not her corgi, mind you. She didn’t do animals, she played golf and drove motorcars. Also owned and ran a Caltex garage and a Volkswagen motorcar agency. At one time she sold 1200cc VW Beetles for R1199.

    ~~oo0oo~~

  • Blast from the Past

    Blast from the Past

    FINALLY clearing out some more boxes from the garage. It’s nine years since Trish died, fifteen years since we moved here, and some of the boxes haven’t been opened since even before that.

    And I was to find out some haven’t even been opened since LONG before that! Like this one:

    This was a bachelor box! That typed letter was the school newsletter – no, the school newspaper! – from 1971. A previous school newspaper ‘Die Kanêrie’ had existed. In our time it was edited by Francois Rope Marais. It died, like all good canaries should. In matric Jean Roux, Fluffy Crawley and I – and a few others – decided to revive it, but we wanted a new name. We were in a big Beatles phase, so its new name was Let It Be.

    Racy scandal, very much tongue-in-cheek, we were determined to be irreverent. The mielie cob was our emblem, the paper was a member of the ‘mielie groep,’ and although this issue of 19 February 1971 was the first and probably the only issue, we made sure to put “Established 1971” in the banner to give it an air of gravitas. You never knew, maybe it would start a publishing empire? I mean, it would have been celebrating the 50th year of its existence next year had it gone on a few issues. So there’s that.

    – You heard it here first: the Troggs were not going to appear in Swinburne!! –

    Memories of the ‘roneo machine’ – you typed on blue wax paper, then you drew your pictures or wrote your headings in freehand with a metal stylus; then you carefully put your precious waxpaper koerant into the roneo machine. The ink ran into all depressions in the wax – hammered by the typewriters and tikmasjiene in Ou Rot se klas, or scratched by hand. We used typewriters for the Engelse stories and tikmasjiene for the Afrikaans stories. Then you turned something manually, and out came copies of what you’d done – reproduced by the magic machine. Any mistakes were permanent. And there were a number! Jean wrote the Pop Music Column ‘On The Knob With Roux.’ He was from a metropolis much larger than Herriesmif – Bloemfindyn, I think? – so more up-to-date with his music.

    Someone wrote to the paper – an anonymous Letter To The Editor! It was a whinge. Someone had been applauding too enthusiastically at a debate contest! Gasp! They were applauding and stamping their feet! Instead of only giving contestants ‘their rightful applause!’ There was some question as to the character of someone who would let themselves go like that! Like Victoria, Nik and Nak were not amused. Well! There you go.

    One article confidently announced we’d soon go international (it didn’t say that all that meant was we had asked the previous year’s USA exchange student to write to us). Sadly we went belly-up before the eagerly’awaited Letter From Larry – a notorious procrastinator – reached us. I think we were a one-issue outfit, like some famous one-hit wonders in the music world. Journalism Schools will probably write learned theses on What Might Have Been.

    We – the Std 9’s were also announcing a ‘Ritmiese Ete’ at the country club where one would get a full supper and music by the vdLinde Trio – at R2 a head – to raise funds for the Matric Farewell.

    Military news of past-pupils was: Sparrow was in the lugmagkoor – and was even chosen as a ‘solios‘ – or so we said. Pierre was off to Bloem as a parabat. Steph was off to Walvis Bay.

    A ‘kringleierskamp’ was held on Clawervlei, Casper Badenhorst’s farm, led by ds Venter, ds Smit, Eben Louw and Giel du Toit. ‘Besprekings’ of about an hour were held morning, afternoon and evening. The weekend ended on Sunday with a church service and a group photo.

    Evidence of the rooinekkery of this koerant was a report on the dorp’s new Boy Scout troop: We had done swimming badges under the watchful eye of Cyril Nocton at Ralph Morton’s pool. Also a report on the Methodist Guild, who held a braai in which ‘all the members’ arrived dressed as tramps.

    Some blerrie Eland – signing himself Phomolong – wrote the athletic day report and crowed about the Kudus winning, them second and us, the Impalas coming our usual third out of three – to which he said foei! Blurry hell! He would eat his words one year later when we, the Impalas, swept the boards! De Wet Ras broke the twenty-year-old pole vault record. At least he was an Impala.

    A long report on a debate – the ontgroeningsdebat – is a bit faint to follow easily. Seems the debate decided history should not be a compulsory school subject. Ha! ‘Jammer Mnr Stander,’ said the reporter to the history teacher!

    Costa Georgiou and Erika du Plessis were chosen as Mr and Miss Standard Six.

    – that faint headline reads Town Cricket –

    Fluffy Crawley wrote an article on Town Cricket, asking for players to join him in strengthening a sport which had been waning and was now being rebuilt. Forthcoming matches were against Old Scholars (Bethlehem?) and Frankfort. He also gave a report on a drawn match against Bethlehem Defence in which they scored 95; We managed to drag out our innings for two hours, forcing a draw; De Wet Ras scored 25, Fluffy scored 14 and Dave Davies hung in to score 5 and achieve the draw. Our best bowler was De Wet, 6 for 25! Fluffy never gave up on cricket – he remained involved with Free State cricket for decades – as a batsman, then an administrator!

    Tuffy Joubert was the swimming reporter, announcing the team going to Mazelspoort. Boys: Leon Blignaut, J Nel, Steve de Villiers and himself; Girls: Sonja du Plessis, Sheila Swanepoel, Jenny de Villiers, Marita Badenhorst, R vd Merwe (? Ilse?), J Eksteen and L Ros(?Lulu Ras?). Sonja duP was chosen for the OFS team and went on to win bronze in the 100m freestyle girls under fourteen at a national gala.

    Under the commercial section there was one advertisement: A 15ft fibreglass canoe for sale by one P. Swanepoel. It would have been blue with a red deck.

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    mielie groep – maize or corn future publishing empire; ‘jou mielie’ was a popular insult at the time; it had . . connotations; hey! sixteen year old testosterone

    on the knob – DJ’s twiddled knobs, and . . connotations

    koerant – newspaper

    tikmasjien – typewriter

    Ou Rot se klas – the typing teacher’s nickname was Rat; pointy nose, bristly moustache, dodgy reputation with the ladies

    Ritmiese Ete – rhythmic dinner – grub and dance fundraiser

    lugmagkoor – airforce choir

    kringleierskamp – ringleaders camp

    besprekings – discussions

    foei! – shame! or ag shame!

    ontgroeningsdebat – initiation debate for Std Sixes, just entering high school

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

    Careful readers would have seen a promise for this promising newspaper to go INTERNATIONAL! Well, I’m not sure we even made a second edition, but we DID receive the promised input from afar: from New York. Larry was late, though. Nothing new there. His letter of 22 April would have reached us on 29 April soonest by which time Let It Be might have run out of oxygen. Note the formal address: Die Redakteur, Laat Dit Wees / Let It Be!! I don’t know why he put our name in inverted commas, though? Would he have written “New York Times” – ? I must speak to him!

    – Larry Letter to Let It Be –

    ~~~oo0oo~~~

  • High School

    High School

    – aerial view at dawn – thanks Arie Bouwer –
    – and here’s why they marched – the pomptroppies! –
  • Mary’s Matric Reunion

    Mary’s Matric Reunion

    1995, so their fiftieth reunion!

    Harrismith Matric Class 1945 – in 1995

    One Harrismith wag on his way to a different class 50th reunion said – mischievously and perceptively – “I’m going to my matric farewell.”

  • And Now Greg Seibert Has Died

    And Now Greg Seibert Has Died

    Greg came to Harrismith from Ohio in 1972. We lost touch, then thanks to Sheila, picked up as though no time had passed! Greg was helping Sheila research ancient family history and was also sending lovely pics of his schooldays in Harrismith. We were so looking forward to seeing more of them. And of him.

    – Greg later on, computer expert, husband and Dad – and genealogist! –

    He planned to visit once when his brother Jeff came to South Africa to do some work for General motors. He didn’t, so Jeff and I went to Hluhluwe without him!

    He was planning to visit, among other places, the de Witt’s game farm near Tshipise – near the Tropic of Capricorn – with Steph.

    Then Steph died. So he didn’t. But he was going to! He was going to come and visit us. We were going to see Greg again.

    Now he’s gone, suddenly, out of the blue.

    R.I.P Greg! Dammit!! What a blow! What a loss!

    ~~oo0oo~~

    Wonderful memories of walking down Normandien pass in the Drakensberg with Greg, just me and him along lonely dirt roads and railway tracks, through these tunnels and ending up near Van Reenen – at Moorddraai where we were fetched – I think by Father Sam van Muschenbroek? I had to keep asking Greg to slow down! He was a fast walker and I was in no hurry!

    Near van Reenen where Greg Seibert & I hiked thru tunnels
    – one of those tunnels, but not Greg’s pic –

    The top pic is one Greg took in our physics class back in 1972.

    ~~oo0oo~~

    Greg’s last message:

    On Apr 28, 2016, Sheila had written:

    Gregor! Where the hell have you been? Are you okay? You just dried up and went away! A bit like our money is doing right now! All’s well here – am having fun putting old pics on FB – am loving the responses. I hope you’re okay.

    Lots of love, Sheila

    ~~oo0oo~~

    Greg replied that same day:

    Sheila!
    I'm doing just fine. Been a bit of work finishing up the estates of mom and dad. Was quite ready for mom to go, but dad went kinda suddenly.
    Such is life. What brought about this great burst of picture activity?
    I'll have to get back to posting more of mine again.

    My brother is probably going back to Port Elizabeth later this year.
    I might try to come with him this time since my last trip got all messed up.
    Glad you are doing well!
    Grego

    Sent from my iPad

    So Greg’s poor kids lost their Grandma, their Granpa and their Dad in quick succession! Darn, that’s tough!

    Greg’s brother Jeff had come to SA in 2014 on a work trip for General Motors. I took him to Hluhluwe Game Reserve in Zululand. Greg did not accompanied him then. He should have; I wish he had. He never did make it back to SA to visit. Damn! R.I.P friend.

    ~~oo0oo~~

  • Forty Years

    Forty Years

    Liewe bliksem, can it be? Forty blerrie years!? Surely not. But so they tell me. 1972 to 2012 is forty years.

    Spectacles, of course, are a sign of intelligence, so here you have me and four meisies flying the IQ flag. Hang on, one other fella. Can’t nail his name right now . . Between Fluffy and Gabba . .

    – 1972 – 39 of us –
    – 2012 – 20 gathered on Appen outside Swinburne – and still only Erika, Koos and Fluffy are wearing brille –

    They say the next one – fifty years – is known as The Matric Farewell . .

    ~~~oo0oo~~~