Interview with Brian Kirchmann – 1958
Brian was enrolled as a pupil at St David’s in standard 3 in 1950. Both he and his brother had
attended Craighall Primary and when his brother was due to go into the high school at St
David’s it was decided that Brian should go too. Both of them were day boys and Brian
remembers the quad and playing soccer there at break. He had played rugby at Craighall and
had to learn to play soccer on arrival at St David’s.
He recalls his mother used to pack extra sandwiches or tuck for the boarders.
His best year in primary school was standard 4 with Mrs Kempster, he got straight A’s. She was
very strict but a very good teacher and had good and bad dress days. She was followed by Mr
Bishop who was not as strong and the boys used to take advantage as he was not strict
enough. Brian’s marks went down to B’s from standard 6.
There were never more than 20 – 27 in a class and there was one class per standard. It was
tough playing rugby against bigger schools such as KES. The academic side of school took
second place to sport which Brian loved. He played cricket, rugby and participated in swimming
and athletics but not in tennis.
He enjoyed the brothers, they were committed and open to talk to the boys at any time. In
standard 8 he wanted to convert to Catholicism and then go into the brotherhood. Br Ralph
talked to him and told him to think carefully about this, he said that Catholicism was a hard and
strict discipline and to become a brother meant one had to be married to the brotherhood and to
the Catholic church. Br Ralph could see the kind of person Brian would become and Brian later
realized that Br Ralph was right.
Brian remembered Br Edwin (Jack) walked with a stoop following a back injury after a rugby
accident, other brothers were Br Gerald, Br Bonaventure and Br Anthony. They were good
guys, strict but fair and the younger brothers, who weren’t much older than the boys they taught,
used to coach rugby.
He recalled an incident when Br Edwin had previously warned the boys not to play near the
parked cars, a ball rolled under a car and Brian went to get it out from under it, the next moment
he saw a large pair of black shoes and heard Br Edwin telling him to come to his office. He got
six of the best for that However, he felt that the strictness and discipline was good and feels
sorry that his grandchildren no longer experience that kind of discipline. He feels that children
should be given boundaries.
Another time Br Bonaventure had a Science class and some of the boys had concocted an evil
smelling potion in a phial and had broken it filling the classroom with the disgusting smell. Br
Bonaventure calmly told them to close the windows, gave them work to do and went outside
and watched them suffer. The instigators had to run the gauntlet afterwards during break.
During their matric year Br Edwin insisted that the boys still play rugby and cricket after school.
He felt they should have an hour’s sport and then they could continue working, he made them
make time.
In standard 9 Brian went overseas to a scout jamboree during July, August and September
travelling there and back on the “Sterling Castle”. On his return he just managed to scrape
through the exams and because of this didn’t get a very good matric and he rewrote the
following year at Damelin.
His parents had said they would either pay for the overseas trip or for university so he didn’t go
to varsity but underwent a marketing course at the Institute of Marketing Management. He didn’t
regret the experience he had had touring the UK and France with other like minded boys but,
with hindsight he should have repeated standard 9. Overall he really enjoyed his time at St
David’s but his son wanted to go to St Stithians as he had been at Craighall primary and many
of his pals were going there. St David’s was going through a bad patch at the time which also
influenced the decision.
Work wise he started off with an auctioneering and property company with Richard Currie, he
then went on into the plastics industry becoming sales director for Omega Plastics. He was then
head-hunted by Brian Pffaf, joined Southern Sun and was their national sales manager from
1978-83. All the travelling and time away from home created a strain on his married life so he
left and joined a steel furniture manufacturing company for about 7 years. For the latter part of
his working life he was the CEO for Sapoa (South African Property Owners Association) dealing
with commercial property development for 16 years and retired in 2005. Whilst he was with
Sapoa he was responsible for setting up an education programme for the property industry.
Brian and his wife Gail are committed Christians, members of the Bryanston Methodist Church
and do some marriage counselling.
Other contemporaries: Frank Mills – member Parkview Golf Club; John Rushton living in
Pietermaritzburg.
JLE April 2012

Interview with Brian Austin - 1962
St David’s Inanda: some recollections before the Beatles
Brian Austin (1958 – 1962)
In those days it wasn’t called St David’s, though his name was there in the small print.
We all knew it as ‘Inanda’, to distinguish it from ‘Obs’: those other guys who wore the
same funny stripey blazer. But many people around Joburg called both schools ‘Maritz’,
for obviously South African reasons but clearly without much appreciation of who these
Marist Brothers were. And, to distinguish us from them at Obs, ‘Inanda’ was always
regarded as the posh school where you went if you didn’t sound (or want to sound) like
Al Debbo (now there’s a name from the dark ages!).
I went to ‘Inanda’ (I’ll stick with that name) in 1958. My prep school years were spent at
the little Catholic school in Maryvale, St Paul’s Parochial School, that’d been founded by
the remarkable Fr Philip Erasme OMI in 1943. I’d been head boy there but was small fry
when I arrived at Inanda. Most of the guys in standard 6 had been together at the junior
school of Inanda and so they all knew each other and also who was king. New blokes
from other places – and there were a handful of us – had to slot into the established
social order. And Inanda had boarders and the boarders were the really important guys,
not day boys who still lived with their mothers. I was a day boy.
There was only one lay teacher in the whole senior school at that time. He was Mr
Bishop and he taught us English. Mr Bishop stood out for never having a hair out place
and he always wore impeccable suits. He used to read to us occasionally from a book
wrapped in brown paper. It was a war story and some said it was his autobiography,
hence the wrapping. In those days we got ‘lashed’ with the cane for various
misdemeanours usually to do with homework that wasn’t done. Old Bish could lash all
right. So could Br Andrew who was our official class teacher. He was a French Canadian
and always said ‘bon’, when you got something right. He taught us Maths and Latin. And
Br Benedict was the principal (I think that’s what he was called in those days. Later we
had a headmaster, but maybe not). Benedict was tall and gaunt. He was known as Beak
(or maybe Beek) and commanded respect. He could lash too.
The standard 6 classroom was stuck away down below the boarders’ dining room.
Remember that in those days the school didn’t extend north beyond the road that ran
down from the second gate (not the main gate) off Rudd Road. That property northwards
was a farm. And our classroom was alongside that road that ended up in the bicycle
shed. It also went past the swimming bath, which I see is now much bigger (according to
Google Earth) and somewhere else altogether. We had swimming as part of the
morning’s lessons one day a week in the summer, of course. I’d never dived into a pool
before then; I learnt to dive very quickly on the first swimming day. I was also known as
‘milk bottle’ because of my fair skin. Boys’ schools are very gentle and genteel places,
as we all know.
I played cricket because I loved the game. Rugby we all played whether we liked it or
not. In those days the school even had a professional cricket coach (a Mr Bannister)
who came out from England, believe it or not, to coach at various schools around
Joburg. He was a great coach and we didn’t have a bad U13 side as a result. The
captain was Roy Chisholm, a left-hander who bowled good in-swingers. I opened the
batting with Mike Ness who went to England the following year. So did Terry Coughlin,
the wicket-keeper. In those days, apparently, there was much traffic between some
South African ‘Private Schools’ and English ‘Public Schools’, such as Stoneyhurst in
Lancashire run by the Jesuits. In this context private and public meant the same thing
which would confuse anyone today not versed in such details.
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I remember Chisholm and I once ‘made a stand’ against Athone U13. He got into the
sixties and I made 53, precisely. Br Anthony (much more about him later) was umpiring.
The Athlone captain was a little squat fellow called Sammy. He placed himself at silly
mid-on (it gets technical here), just a few years to my left, and I was facing their offspinner
who bowled a gift of a full toss. I played a mean on-drive in those days and duly
caned the ball. It hit Sammy on the forehead and nearly decapitated him. He certainly
took off backwards and landed on his bum. Br Anthony, standing at the bowler’s wicket,
sauntered up the pitch to see if Sammy was still alive and then said to me: ‘that
should’ve been four”. Exactly what I thought too.
Standard 7 was a tough year. Our class teacher was a very young Irish brother whose
name now escapes me. He clearly felt challenged by pimply-faced, testosterone fuelled
fourteen-year olds with attitude. As a result he didn’t cope well and lashed us often,
clearly his only defence. A fellow called Ralph van Oppen would openly challenge
anyone who so much as dared look at him to a fight – and he always won. He once
organised a strike by terrorising the whole class who, at his say so, didn’t dare return
after lunch break. We just sat on the lawn. Somehow it was resolved (I don’t now
remember how) and we weren’t even lashed but van Oppen disappeared from the
school. A word, no doubt, was dropped into his father’s ear, though if the son was
anything to go by, Van Oppen senior must’ve been quite something. Perhaps he’d got
away before the allies captured Berlin? That was the year we started ‘Science’ as a
subject and I immediately discovered my métier. English too wasn’t far behind.
Standard 8, or ‘J.C.’ (Junior Certificate) in those days, was a nondescript class and an
uninspiring time. It was 1960 and the time of Sharpeville but our pent-up anger
throughout they year had much more to do with yet more testosterone, I’m sure. Girls
now entered our spheres of interest but most seemed totally disdainful of us. Rosebank
Convent provided much that was attractive but it never reciprocated our awkward
posturing. And we produced a lousy rugby team, but smoking on the bottom field
improved markedly as the year went by. Br Walter, our class teacher, seemed older than
Noah by at least a generation. He was the most gentle of men. Seemingly near-blind
behind very thick lenses, and always somewhat befuddled, he taught us Maths and
Christian Doctrine. Sometimes there was so much fervour involved in both that it was
difficult to tell them apart. As a result, if one had any mathematical flair it was likely to be
kindled by Walter and mine certainly was. Others discovered they had ‘vocations’ and
talked of becoming brothers themselves. At the end of the year, having gained a ‘firstclass
J.C.’, I remember writing Br Walter a letter thanking him for making ‘the minutiae of
the subject’ (Maths) so amazingly clear. His flair with figures, equations and abstruse
geometry undoubtedly helped because I’ve used a fair bit of the subject ever since. On
the matter of our execrable rugby performance that year, I remember our being thrashed
by Jeppe 103- nil. How we dared arrive at school the next day remains one of those
mysteries on one’s educational life. The ignominy must’ve been indescribable.
Junior matric followed and another figure - in black (not white then) cassock, white bib,
rope around his waist and swinging crucifix - strode into our lives in very sharp focus.
Brother Anthony was the new principal and his Scots accent became part of our lives.
He was always known as ‘Ornge’ or ‘Ornges’ from the way he said ‘orange’. He also
caused much mirth when he spoke after the annual athletics sports day each
September. After thanking everyone for attending and making the occasion the success
it usually was, he’d then announce, into the microphone, that all were very welcome to
attend the ‘bry flies’ afterwards. Most did, if only to hear Ornge say it again.
Ornge was a phenomenal headmaster. I’d go as far as saying that he really made the
school into what it is now. Every morning at assembly he spoke from the upper balcony,
3
looking down (but only metaphorically) on all of us standing in our rows, per class, in the
‘quad’. The prefects prowled around in between. I still vividly remember hearing one of
them, Martin Funston the nephew of Ken Funston the Springbok cricketer, tell a fellow
who happened to have a shock of red hair, and who was talking, to ‘shut up, copper
knob’. That actually occurred in 1958 but such things happened in 1961 too and just had
to be mentioned because the reaction of all within earshot was excruciatingly funny.
The matric class in ’61 (a year ahead of me) were a brilliant bunch and Ornge was very
proud of them. Dudley Mandy,with much swagger and I suppose what we’d call
charisma these days, was headboy. I think he also subsequently became a brother. The
cleverest bloke was Doug Hawkins, now a professor of Statistics in the states. ‘Dougie’
(but pronounced, as you’d expect, by Ornge as Doogie), was at least 6 foot 3 and gangly
too. Though clearly designed for the second row of the scrum, or at least the line-outs,
he didn’t appear on the rugby field. Having brains helped some escape. He was a
mathematical genius – a fact often mentioned by Ornge – and he also started the
Science club. His plan was that ‘Inanda’ should follow the Americans into the space
race; remember sputnik was launched by the Russians in 1957 and ever since the
Americans had been trying to catch up. Anything we could do to help would no doubt be
appreciated. Doogie wanted to design, build and launch a rocket and Ornge backed him
to the hilt. So, one morning at assembly, after he’d addressed us from the balcony,
Ornge called on Doogie to join him up there and tell us his plans for interplanetary travel
or whatever he had in mind. I was enthralled and when the great man asked for
volunteers to join in I was there.
By then I was rather interested in radio. Not Springbok Radio but making radios and I’d
already made a few. Doogie said we needed radio communications, especially radio
telemetry, on our rocket. It would at least tell us where it was when it came down –
possibly in someone’s swimming pool. We agreed to meet at his house over the
weekend to discuss strategy and try to make a radio small enough to fit inside a (rather
small) tube that would be packed with explosives and after ignition would lift the missile
into space. It sounded fantastic and I was bursting to make my contribution. Doogie and
I, in his father’s garage the following Saturday afternoon, soldered and squashed
electronic bits and pieces together into the tube but never a peep came out of it. His
mother brought us tea and enquired how we were getting on. We said we were at ‘T
minus something and counting’ (that’s what they always said from Cape Canaveral just
before lift-off) but had hit a snag. She said she was sure we’d sort if out and then asked
us to try not to drop solder on the carpet.
I don’t remember the rocket ever being launched. Something about Pretoria and laws
against making missiles, if I remember correctly, but it was great fun and Doogie was
impressively tall. Others in that class who excelled cerebrally were Richard Hartdegan,
later a dermatologist in Joburg, Rodney Leigh (known as ‘Gripper’ for some reason),
another medical doctor, and Steven Fine, a dentist to be. And Emil Iglauer, built like the
proverbial brick toilet, hence he propped the 1st XV scrum with Darko Vidas (in my year),
became an electronics engineer, as I did too a while later.
In 1962 I entered matric. There were only 17 of us in the class and, of course, only one
matric class in those days. Our classroom was right at the end upstairs. Next door were
the junior matrics and next door to them was the Science lab which always stank of H2S,
but then so did some boys even though they never went near the place. I never earned
my colours blazer. You needed three ‘scrolls’ for that and despite being bananas about
cricket I never made enough runs to get that most prized (in my mind) of scrolls. I was a
prefect for which you also needed the ‘merit’ scroll. Presumably it meant what it said but
we didn’t know how they measured that. They just watched us, I suppose. We also
never had a head boy that year. The ‘watchers’ clearly decided that no one really stood
4
out. Roy Chisholm was no longer captain of the 1st cricket XI because Rob Fiore had
arrived from St Henry’s (in Durban) accompanied by accolades about his sporting
prowess. So he captained both the first teams: cricket and rugby. I still opened the
batting and, in fact, had played in the ‘Firsts’ the previous year too.
Before that, in the 2nds, our captain was Bill Oliver (also lavatorially-shaped and so
another ‘Firsts’ prop) opened the bowling. For sheer spirit (if not stunning talent) that
2nds side was fantastic – and Bill was the reason. He was inspirational, not least
because most of the team were in classes below him and were at least 50lbs lighter than
he was. Bill had his own form of ball-tampering long before the term was ever used at
test match level. Before opening the attack with the new ball he would rub part of it
vigorously on the concrete wall alongside the main cricket field – the main rugby field too
– immediately on the right of the driveway into the school from the main gates. This
gouging of the leather near the seam gave Bill the purchase he needed when bowling
his assortment of deliveries, mostly short-pitched that reared up at pace, to all who faced
him from our neighbouring schools. He hated them all – a good sign in a fast bowler –
and he inspired us.
In 1961 I went with the 1st XI to Marist Brothers, Walmer (in P.E.) for the Marist Cricket
Week. Every year each Marist school in the country sent its first team to play against all
the others at one or another school. We didn’t do too well; as you might expect given the
fanfare that surrounded Fiore’s arrival from Durban a while before, St Henry’s walked
over everyone else. But Rob himself was picked to play for ‘S.A. Marists’ – as a bowler.
Until then he’d been a top-order batsman and occasional wicket keeper too. But in P.E.
our captain (Mike McGurk) told him to bowl medium pace, which he did, and he took a
mountain of wickets. Needless to say, this was yet more Fiore sporting magic.
My cricket in matric was obsessional. Alf Smith (who didn’t play at all but was a cricket
nut like me) and I used to ‘talk cricket’ at every break and often in between too. I still
opened the batting, usually with Renzo Brocco of the year below. He was also fullback
for the firsts at rugby (I was fullback for the ‘Thirds’). We had a few decent opening
stands when he scored most of the runs. I was just too dogged and Jackie McGlew-like
in that I stuck out my backside, gripped the bat too low down and lost the on-drive that
had nearly murdered the Athlone boy some years before. In the St David’s Magazine
that year (I think it was, by then, known as St David’s) the matric class had pen pictures
and photos. Alongside were our nicknames and any special idiosyncrasies, foibles etc.
As was seemingly the custom in those days, we were also described by a current pop
tune. Mine was ‘Transistor Sister’ because I was also, by then, a confirmed radio (in the
electronics sense) nut as well. My cricketing prowess was, as I remember it, described in
equally unflattering terms too!
In matric, Br Anthony (‘Ornge’) taught us Maths, and very well too; Br Robert, an
extremely short Australian, taught us Science in a very methodical way, and Br Gerard
taught us English, quite inspirationally. He even made (some of) us appreciate poetry.
Best of all, he spoke impeccable English with much emphasis on correct ‘received’
pronunciation. For example, the list he put on the board included such words as
Wednesdee, ‘vittles’ (food to the rest of us), and ‘contriversey’, with the emphasis on the
first syllable and a delicate ee sounding of the second. And he could lash too, especially
when one hadn’t learnt the complete ‘To be or not to be’ soliloquy from Hamlet, our
setwork of the year. If I remember correctly, Alan’s Paton’s ‘Cry the Beloved Country’
was another, as was Thomas Hardy’s ‘Return of the Native’ which allegedly caused
some consternation within the state censor’s office until it was pointed out that influx
controls were not being breached.
5
Sportswise, the cricket coach of note was little Br Dennis or ‘Tickey’, as we knew him.
He taught Latin and History too. And, on the rugby field there was ‘Bodo’: Brother
Bonaventure, big, dark and almost brooding. He too wielded the cane with precision
while teaching us Afrikaans. Both he and Tickey, evidently, never stayed the course and
left the brotherhood some years later. Now, of course, there are no brothers left and old
Ornge is, so I hear, still doing a fantastic job out in the sticks tending to those whose
needs are far greater than ours, as very privileged white youths, ever were.
I was an active member of the Science club in 1962. I proposed a club project to Ornge,
which he accepted, and the school funded. S.A. Philips, the Dutch electronics company,
had recently published a remarkable book, written by its engineers in Joburg, called
‘Transistors for the Home Constructor’. It contained all sorts of circuits for various
electronic gadgets and I wanted to build the radio transmitter. Ornge forked out the
money and my father bought the bits and pieces. Then, two or three of us, set about
building the transmitter. It took a bit of fiddling but eventually we got it working and we
could walk all around the school grounds transmitting our voices to a good old fashioned
‘wireless’ set up in the science lab. And that was long before cell phones. My mates
thought I’d clearly become what I suppose we’d now call a ‘geek’ or a ‘nerd’. They felt I
needed to spend more time with girls.
I left ‘Inanda’ at the end of 1962 and spent nine months in the army before going to Wits
to do electrical engineering. Graduating, after a few hiccups along the way, with B.Sc
(Eng) degree launched me on a career that became my life, first in Joburg at the
Chamber of Mines Research labs, and then at Wits as an academic in my old
department and for the last twenty years, before I retired five years ago, at the University
of Liverpool. As a side interest, I also wrote the biography of Sir Basil Schonland, a
noted South African scientist who amongst many other things founded the CSIR, was
scientific adviser to Field Marshal Montgomery and ultimately, was director of Harwell,
the atomic energy research establishment in England. It was published in 2001. St
David’s (‘Inanda’) provided me with lots of good guidance, both academic and spiritual,
great company amongst one’s fellow pupils and, especially, a sense of pride in a
wonderful institution that thrived throughout my time there under an inspirational
headmaster always known to us as ‘Ornge’.
B.A. (Brian) Austin
West Kirby
Wirral
UK
(May 2010)

Interview with Boris Babaya – 1950
This is actually a transcript compiled by Boris himself which makes for interesting reading
Early years at Marist Brothers Inanda
As the new preparatory school opened in 1941, world war 11 was raging all over Europe. The
German nazi army directed by Adolf Hitler had occupied and annexed Austria, invaded
Czechoslovakia, Poland, France, Holland, Norway, Denmark, Yugoslavia, Albania, Greece then
Hitler attacked Russia and times were desperate for the Allies.
The British resistance suffered numerous setbacks in the Atlantic as German u-boats pounded
their supply convoys relentlessly. The Luftwaffe was bombing Britain and the Royal Air Force
was desperately fighting “The Battle of Britain”.
In North Africa, the British and Commonwealth armies were fighting the Afrika Corps under the
superb General Irwin Rommel.
Times were tough in South Africa. There were shortages of everything due to the prioritising of
so many basics for the Allied troops up North. News from the Red Cross was invariably
obituaries of family casualties in the war.
Japan had attacked the American fleet in Pearl Harbour and the Pacific war was ignited.
The only way one was able to follow events were the crackling short-wave radio, the press and
rare personal mail. There were very few cars, severely restricted by petrol rationing. There was
no white bread, very little meat or poultry, soap, tea, coffee and just about everything the
modern generation finds stacked up on supermarket shelves, was in very short supply.
Against this background Boris came from Braamfontein Convent to enter St. Davids in 1944 to
join std. 1V.
Inanda was on the periphery of Johannesburg. Most of the boys were boarders. They came
from all over the country and there were well represented contingents from Portuguese East
Africa (Mocambique), Northern Rhodesia (Zambia), Angola, Nyasaland (Malawi), Rhodesia
(Zimbabwe) and other arenas.
We were “Day Dogs”. I lived in Parktown on the Killarney border, just behind Parktown Convent.
The main arterial road to Inanda was Oxford Road. The Dunkeld Bus got you to the terminus
just before Corlett Drive. Its’ scheduled times were hourly at peak times. It was precisely one
long mile’s walk from St Davids. If you missed it, you got the bus that turned off at Soggot’s
Corner in Rosebank. That made a very poor start to the day.
The Wanderers Club was right in the middle of Johannesburg adjoining Park Station. There was
one heck of a hullabaloo when the minister of transport Mr Sturrock expropriated their grounds
for a functional Johannesburg station.
There were huge public marches in protest. A rally led by ‘Sailor Malan’, a highly decorated
South African ex RAF fighter pilot Ace, and the slogans on the banners: “Save the Wanderers
for the People”.
I recall my father persuading the Wanderers grounds man, Harry Eden to speak to executive
committee chair, Mr Houliston and tell them that they couldn’t stop progress and that he would
show them where the Wanderers could be relocated. He took them to Kent Park, and showed
them the farm that is the site of the Wanderers Club today.
He predicted that private cars would become far more prolific and that they could get a couple of
buses to ferry long-standing members that just couldn’t commute any other way. The rest is
history.
Standard four was a revelation. The principal was Brother Urban. The class teacher was Mrs du
Plessis. After her first lecture I knew she was an excellent tutor. She was clear, logical and
strict. She knew her syllabus inside-out, she put it over so well one felt like a genius. She
marked one’s homework meticulously. There were no bic pens so one scratched around with
stephens ink and pens with nibs. When one’s mind was in full flow and you were scribbling the
answers speedily, the nib would hit a speed-bump in the paper and droplets of ink would be
sprayed over the page. Miss would painstakingly encircle every single blot with ‘laager’ of red
ink. You knew instinctively that this lady wasn’t going to take any prisoners.
Under her expert guidance History, Geography, English or Arithmetic was just ‘a stroll in the
park’. While watching some hopeful candidates on BBC’s “Who wants to be a Millionaire” one
becomes acutely aware that they never had her as teacher. I recall one Geography test where
just the outline of the world’s land and sea masses were drawn. One had to fill in all the major
mountains, rivers, seas, lakes, countries, oceans and continents. I’m grateful that we were
taught by her.
The other standard 1V class was taught by Mrs Kempster whose class considered her as
another ace teacher.
Sports were highlights. soccer, cricket, athletics and swimming were the sports we all enjoyed.
Like schoolboys universally, our heroes were the more senior guys in standard five and six.
Somehow one seemed not to be particularly aware of one’s juniors.
From the following year, the school would start to become a senior college with an additional
higher class each year thereafter.
There are memories of health scourges. The pasteurisation of milk was not yet an industry norm
and TB or tuberculosis was a dreadful disease. It was an era before antibiotics were available,
so milk was always boiled. Fruit juices were only homemade. The other frightening disease was
polio or infantile paralysis. The papers were full of news about this dreaded disease. Victims
were put in huge contraptions called “Iron Lungs” and it was a terrifying prospect. One of the
popular lads, from Northern Rhodesia was afflicted and we all feared for his fate. Miraculously
he came out of it without any paralysis whatsoever and there was enormous relief. This was
many years before the “Salk Vacine” was developed by an American doctor which effectively
halted the pandemic.
Firm friendships were made, some of which lasted a lifetime. I befriended Michael Rogers who
went on to become a world class cardiac surgeon. He studied with the best pioneering surgeons
in England and America with the likes of Michael DeBakey, Denton Cooley and a couple of
others whose names elude my dysfunctional memory.
Romeo Buffa a classmate was an outstanding sportsman. He was the greatest schoolboy
sportsman we were privileged to see. It did not matter what the sport was. Whether it was
soccer or rugby he was the star player. In athletics or swimming, Romeo broke all the records.
He was a naturally gifted sportsman. Had he pursued any sporting discipline seriously, we were
all certain he should have made the olympic team.
I recall some of seniors of those days, Stan Barale, Frank McGrath, Keith Kennaugh, Errol
Hulse, Hugh Gearing, Ashley Kallos, Phillips, see the complete list at end.
Classmates were A. Lees, B. McGrath, D. Potter, R. Perino, G. Bordani, P. Vieyra, M. Rogers,
C. Leon, P. Cazolet, R. Kippers, G. Pacheo, G. Rethman.
Mr Bishop was the standard V master. He was a strict disciplinarian of Swedish origin and a
good teacher. Mr Hoare took standard V1. He was elderly, preached on many moral issues and
used to take the musical class. Mrs Basson would play the piano and he would conduct the
singing. Half the class was utterly tone deaf and he would weed them out. He explained the
tonic-Sol-fa: do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, te, do. Every song practice Mrs Basson would play four notes
and the class would be asked to call the notes played. Well, you can imagine the answers that
came from the tone deaf. We had one little chap Francois May who was unerringly correct
whenever he was called upon to answer. Some others of the class got it right or partly right
sometimes, but some never ever got a single note correct. Mr Hoare’s patented reaction was,
“Feeble minds”. He administered punishment with a short leather strap, never a cane. His
command was,”Ankles!” then he would dance three steps towards the offender for each stroke
or slap of the strap. It was never painful.
Brother Thomas was the first brother we had as a teacher. He was Irish, had come from Marist
Brothers Koch Street and as usual our spy network had alerted us that he had a short temper. If
you provoked his ire through stupidity you would get a slap. He taught us Geometry and the first
theorem was painstakingly explained with blackboard diagrams.
I can well recall his exposition:
“When one straight line meets another straight line, the two adjacent angles so formed, together
equal two right angles.”
It wasn’t rocket science, but when individuals were called up to the blackboard platform to
explain the proof the atmosphere got very heated. The selected classmate would have a go at
the explanation, messing up the whole logic of the proof. Br Thomas went red faced, wringing
his hands at his sides in an effort to control his temper, his voice rising until one of his arms
struck out like a black mamba, giving the unfortunate, aspiring geometrician a resounding slap
on the head.
He would repeat the whole proof while the class focussed on the elements of the logic,
determined not to be caught out if called up to the blackboard. Over the next few sessions most
of the class were able to master the first theorem but a few would get caught out some time
later. A wary atmosphere prevailed in his class as one didn’t want to provoke ‘n snotklap.
Br Alban prevailed over std. eight. He had played rugby for Western Province prior to becoming
a brother. He coached the first team and was quite an awesome character. He would castigate
miscreants in a derisive tone with words found in no dictionary. He had a seemingly endless
vocabulary of appellations. “You rumagultion!” and “kookiekommer” comes to mind. He was a
heavy smoker of Springbok plain cigarettes, with the ball of his thumb and the two cigarette
holding fingers burnt to a very deep brown, which one never sees these days.
If you were the unfortunate to get the dreaded invitation to come to his rooms, you knew that
you would depart with painful red stripes on your backside. It was a tortuous ritual. If you were a
smoker, he would offer you a Springbok from his pack of fifty. If you demurred, you would get an
extra couple of strokes for being a hypocrite. Of course you had heard this from the lads, but
you were never sure whether they were spreading a false rumour or a real fact. He would
engage you in friendly conversation about all kinds of interesting subjects. This would proceed
amicably until you were convinced he had forgotten about the reason for the invite as the next
class period was only minutes away from the bell. Just as you reached for the door handle to
exit, he would casually ask why he had invited you to call on him. With accelerating stress and
anxiety you would stutter and splutter some meaningless supposition. The inevitable caning was
administered while you frantically hoped it was four and not the fearsome six.
English speakers had a rather pathetic grasp of Afrikaans. He would produce current Afrikaans
newspapers or periodicals and make a student read an article and then render an English
translation. We were terrible. He got us to say the “Our Father” and “Hail Mary” in Afrikaans. I
think I can still do it sixty six years later.
I managed to develop an “opstel” aid. I memorised a few paragraphs of an introduction that I
hoped would indicate some knowledge of Afrikaans. Whatever choice I made from the offerings,
it was my opening shot.
“Dit was a heerlike warm somer’s dag en toe het my vriend Piet en ek besluit om te gaan
visvang.
He took us a couple of years later on a rugby tour to Natal by train to play our brother schools,
the formidable St. Charles Pietermaritzburg and St. Henry’s Durban.
On the train the cigarettes were offered and known smokers dared not be guilty of being
hypocrites. We narrowly beat St. Charles captained by Peter Fricker, if memory serves, yours
truly elated at scoring the winning try. The team thrashed St. Henry’s so the return home was
triumphant. No misdemeanour in transit escaped his purview. Indiscretions of any kind were
dealt with later, sometimes to one’s utter consternation, much later. He had a sixth sense to
detect any transgression.
Br Edwin, later to become principal, took us for History. He was an inspiring teacher. His first
lecture was preceded by his enquiry from the class as to what precisely was History all about.
The class individuals came up with all kinds of inane answers. His brief definition was, “History
is the story of the living past.”
He went on to explain that virtually everything we are, do, think, feel or believe is the effect in
some way or another, the result of what has been done or has happened in the past. We cannot
escape the history of mankind and our planet. It determines virtually every facet of our
civilization, way of life, social interactions and codes of behaviour. It was stirring stuff. One
realised that if one was unaware of one’s history, one couldn’t understand much of what life was
all about.
I was personally fascinated and very proud to win the Marist Provincial Prize in History. (1947)
Due to life threatening illnesses, my memories are like the “Curate’s Egg”.
There are so many memories buried under the mists of times long past.
One Brother made an indelible impression on all his classes. He was an Australian and took us
for Latin. Brother Celestine was an extraordinary personality and an unforgettable character. His
first words to the class were, “Caesar est.” He asked the class to translate. There were no
volunteers. He translated, “I am Caesar.” That became his nickname, Caesar.
He then asked the class to raise their hands if anyone didn’t think they would pass Latin at the
end of the year. Slowly one hand was raised, and then another and then a flurry of several more
hands were raised. Caesar asked them all to stand up. He riveted his challenging stare at each
one turn and said the following.“No one fails any subject that I teach! You will all pass Latin. Do
you understand that?”Each sentence was delivered like a pistol shot, clearly demanding an
affirmative response. Each of the hapless guys had to clearly state that they would pass Latin.
That was our introduction to Caesar.
He appointed a dog walloper. His duty was to order a class member to clear the blackboard
whenever necessary. If the dw wasn’t alert enough to anticipate the function timeously, he had
to do it himself with Caesar’s derisive comments ringing in his ears.
Sooner or later everyone was bestowed with nickname by Caesar. This ‘christening’ was always
a ritual. A very popular boarder was a regular prolific smoker. Smokers resorted to all sorts of
subterfuge to camouflage their indulgence. A popular habit was to stroll to the young trees
bordering the Fricker Road perimeter, using the meagre foliage to screen their actions. Light up
there, ambling along carefully exhaling the thinnest possible stream of smoke to as to be almost
imperceptible from even a few metres away. One day Caesar related the story at length of how
St. Francis would speak to the birds in the trees. The punch-line was that we had a modern day
St. Francis in our midst. He then asked the guy, “When you go to sneak a smoke in the trees
what do you converse with the birds?” After embarrassed shuffling and stuttering, the fellow was
thereafter always called ‘St. Francis’ by Caesar.
Caesar could start a lesson with a joke. This could carry on for almost the entire period, with
much top of the desk banging by the class when the punch line was delivered. At a minute hand
signal from Caesar the applause would abruptly stop. In the remaining time Caesar would get
through the lesson, set the homework and woe betide anyone that didn’t master the assignment
by the next lesson.
I recall a joke that lasted a good thirty minutes. Two musician pals would go for drinks after their
performance. When they would overdo it, they had to give their respective wives an explanation
for coming home at such a late hour. As the explanations were often not convincing, they
decided to invent a good story while sober that would ensure peace and quiet when
overindulgent and very late. They came up with the alibi of having to practise “Syncopation”.
They swore it was the truth and the wives believed them. This worked for a while until the two
wives got together and eventually they discussed the alibi story. Since both were curious they
mooted several musical probabilities and eventually decided to look it up in the dictionary. What
they found there illuminated the scenario. syncopation: An erratic wandering from bar to bar.
One guy that regularly bunked school and was a hopeless mess, was kicked out of Caesar’s
class permanently. The rest of the class passed Latin. Caesar played an excellent game of
tennis. Years later we discovered that he was an excellent rugby player.
Ellis Park was the venue for both provincial and international rugby and cricket. In 1947 we had
the thrill of viewing the first post war visiting All Blacks. Captained by Fred Allen they had been
preceded by reports of being a powerful team. We had no idea how well the Springboks would
fare. I recall the All Blacks winning their scrum and the ball was passed to the centres. Then
there was a huge collision. The Springbok centre ‘Tjol’ Lategan tackled the Kiwi centre with
such bone crunching force that he was dazed when he staggered to his feet. The crowd went
wild and we knew the ‘Boks would give a good account of themselves. They did. Sitting on the
grass embankment at Ellis Park, eating naartjies was such great fun.
The great Australian cricket team also treated us to the thrilling sight of the two fastest bowlers
in the world, Ray Lindwall and Keith Miller. What a pair to face. Ray was arguably the greatest
fast bowler ever in Test Cricket.
Notable scandal making for yards of headlines was the death of a young lady, ‘Bubbles’
Schroeder. She had been to a party and there had been intimacy with certain well known
society lads. Her dumped body was discovered in the bushes of a dense forest of trees in Kent
Park very near the Dunkeld bus terminus. The post mortem had shown that she had choked on
sperm. Col. Ulf Boberg was the chief investigating officer and the proceedings of the
subsequent trial made sensational, lurid details daily in all the local press. All schoolboys were
intensely interested in the drama, avidly following the court evidence daily. Dictionaries were in
prolific use.
On Thursdays the overseas mail was regularly due at the CNA in Rosebank. The two most
sought after publications were “The Champion” and “The Triumph”. My favourite character was
Rockfist Rogan the RAF fighter pilot Ace and heavyweight boxing champion of the RAF. His
daredevil exploits in the air and taming of bullies was a great source of weekly, thrilling reading
matter.
I was of pure Croatian descent from the Dalmatian province born in Johannesburg. Virtually all
local Dalmatians made their own wine. They never reported it for formal, official assize. My
father used to purchase the whole day’s consignment of wine grapes on the old Newtown
market auction, if he considered them up to his high, quality standards. It would number many
hundreds of two-handled wicker bushel baskets.
As a kid I would be left to guard them while he went to phone the Dalmatians alerting them that
the wine grapes were there and they should come to collect them post haste.
The grapes would be ‘pressed’ through a wooden, roller mangle and fermented in oak barrels.
In due course the wine would mature and then carefully taste tested. If the old man felt the wine
was below par, it was relegated to be distilled as brandy (Rakija). This was very bad news for
me as I would thereafter have to spend many hours in the cold basement minding the still. The
heat applied to the still had to be just right. This was evidenced by the rate at which the brandy
dripped from the still. The correct flow was tortuously slow, about one drop every three or four
seconds. Any flow faster and the still would “burn”. If this happened, the still would be
irrevocably ruined, thereafter imparting a burnt flavour to the liquor distilled in it.
Many years later on visits to Eastern Transvaal distilling farms, I never once found a distillate
such as mampoer or any other that didn’t have a distinctly burnt flavour.
It is a Croatian custom to drink wine with every meal. The young drink it as “Bevanda”, that is,
very diluted with water. My father’s “Konoba” or sunken basement under our home always had
many dozen bottles of home-made wine.
The Portuguese boarders at St. David’s were brought up in similar fashion so they were keen to
get some wine to enliven up their smuggled snacks. I understood their sentiments and would
occasionally get a couple of bottles of wine from my dad’s “Bootleg Stock” for their special
celebrations.
One fateful Saturday when we were due to play rugby against the very tough Krugersdorp,
Monument High School, I arrived at St David’s with my kit and a couple of bootleg wine bottles
enclosed in rugby socks in the tog-bag. Brother Bartholomew stopped me from boarding the bus
and ordered me to report to Brother Edwin in the principal’s office with my kit-bag.
I knew there was serious trouble brewing. The wine was discovered, I was told there was no
rugby for me and a plethora of opprobrium was heaped upon me. My father and Brother Edwin
had a meeting on Monday and peace was restored.
Dad strongly asserted that “English Culture” was not yet appreciative of some of the finer habits
in life like good wine with good meals.
The matric dance was a highlight of the final year. In those days there were very few guys that
had girlfriends. Boy/girl relationships were fantasies. A guy would write a poem and secretly
admire a young lady from a distance. A distinctly victorian ambience prevailed, so the main
hurdle was getting a partner for the dance. If one had some tenuous connection with a source of
girls, like one’s sisters or cousins friends, one was expected to negotiate a partner for pals for
the occasion. Having a Parktown Convent connection I did my duty wherever I was able to do
so. One lass I contrived to persuade to come as a partner for one of the most popular guys
became a rag queen at Wits. My partner was a stunning beauty, the sister of a friend from
Marist Observatory. He and I still meet twice weekly.
Although I had colours for four different sports viz. rugby, athletics, boxing and tennis and was
top of the academic class for many of the years, I was never awarded the merit scroll so never
qualified for the colours blazer, neither was I made a prefect.
On the last day of school, I auctioned all my numerous sports scrolls and pinned my de-scrolled
blazer to the matric blackboard. This gesture attracted further opprobrium from the principal.
After being invited to play in the traditional old boys rugby game the following year, Stan Barale
the captain had to phone me to tell me that I was barred from playing and not welcome to attend
as spectator.
After leaving St David’s, Boris graduated with a BComm (Economics and Business Finance)
after a jaunt in mining on the copper belt of Northern Rhodesia.
Needless to say, he did not send his two sons to St. David’s. He sent them to Michaelhouse.
His daughter sent his grandson Matthew Maguire to St. David’s whence he matriculated
JLE April 2013
Classmates continued – Romeo Buffa, Gorgon Rethman, Brain Magrath, Michael and Gerald
Rogers, Errol Hulse, Achilles (Ashly) Kallos, Tommy Williams, Pat Spencer, Phillipe and Jacque
du Buisson, Setty Risi, Louis da Cruz, Jorge Pacheo, Dion Herbet, Bobby Perino, Jackie Att,
Brian Kennedy, Forrester, Patrick Sater, Owen Simms, Fettis, Hugh Gearing , Bruce
Eshner,(Gymnast), Theo SYtsema, Clive Seff, Guido and Sandro Boroni, Socrates Vartsos,
Francois May. Clive Leon, 2 Kippen cousins, Howard Neyans (yank), Muller brothers, Mark
Madeyski, Paul Vieara, Peter Cazalet, Wilson.
Comment [BB1]: Addition of the
“bootlegging episode

Interview with Billy (William) Williams – 1955/ Henry Kool and Fred Hoppert
Billy came to Inanda from Koch Street in 1941 – standard 4, as a boarder, boarding at Koch Street until
1943 when boarding opened at Inanda. The boys were taken to see the school’s building in progress in
1940 and Billy recalls climbing up a gum tree and tying a handkerchief there.
Henry (Hendrik) Kool also came to Inanda in 1941 as a boarder and matriculated as a prefect in 1949.
standard 4 was the highest class at the time and went up each year until the matric class, standard 10, was
reached. He remembered that the sports field was still raw and sloping downwards. This was eventually
bulldozed into two levels.
Fred Hoppert joined Inanda in 1942 as a day boy and left in 1954 having become a boarder in standard 8.
More day boys joined the school from 1942 onwards.
In 1941 Br Thomas, the principal of Koch Street ,went with all the boys to Inanda together with Br Charles
and Br Jordaan. They caught the first bus from Johannesburg Park Station. It was bright yellow and a
single decker with a driver called Scottie who drove them all the way to the school. When the bus
eventually “died” the boys had to catch a trolley bus to Rosebank and then walk from Rosebank to school –
1 ½ miles.
Billy remembers that the classes at Inanda were relatively small in comparison with 21 up to 35 boys in a
class whereas at Koch Street there were 45 at least. There were four houses as now – Osmund, College,
Benedict and The Bishops.
It was during the war years and there was no bread except brown bread, no butter but peanut butter and
apricot jam. There were tables of 6 in the dining hall with 6 small slices of margarine at each table and the
chap at the end of the queue always ended up with the smallest slice or the fraught piece The food was
generally good but cups were difficult to get hold of and beer bottles were cut off, the edges bevelled and
used instead of cups.
The Catholic boys didn’t have as much study time as the non-Catholics as they had to go to mass every
day. When the Catholics had retreat they all joined in as they then didn’t have to go to school. The standard
1 to 5 teachers were lay teachers - standard 1 – Mrs Sturton; 2 – Mrs Brophy; 3 – Mrs Hoare; 4 – Mrs
Kempster who was a tiger; 5 Mr Bishop; 6 Br Benedict; 7 – Br Bartholomew; 8 – Br Aquinas who was
severe; 9 – Br Ephraim; 10 – Br Edwin and Br Pius was the beekeeper and gardener.
The soccer fields were initially just graded and consisted of red sand and small stones. The swimming pool,
25 yards in length was the best in Johannesburg at the time. The first swimming gala and athletics meeting
were held in 1944. Henry remembers swimming the breaststroke and coming dead last.
The school bought a plot below the swimming pool and the house there became the sick bay and living
quarters for the brothers. The boys were “invited” to plant grass on the field there.
Initially there was no rugby as the school didn’t have the grounds and the sport was started in 1947 and
played at the Wanderers. The brothers had to teach the boys how to fall as none of them wanted to! In a
game of rugby against Helpmekaar, Billy remembers Inanda being beaten handsomely and Henry was a
prop.
The boys started playing hockey but smashed half the sticks the first time they played and the remainder
the second time. Needless to say hockey was cancelled.
Billy played cricket against St Henry’s in Durban and the boys in the team were farmed out to families to
stay overnight. Billy recalls being in a photo with a soccer shield – U 13’s team.
On Sunday afternoons the boarders used to go walking for miles through accacia trees and sandy soil
(hence the eventual name of the area as Sandton). Billy ate too much fruit on one of these walks and Henry
piggy backed him home until they were offered a lift.
The three boys, Billy, Henry and Fred were all Anglicans but were never treated any differently to the
Catholic pupils and were never pressured to become Catholic. They used to go to St Martin’s in the Veld
church on Sunday mornings and walked there and back. They walked past many little plots and the boys
used to collect fruit on the way back and then hide it in holes next to the barbed wire fence.
There was a small room underneath a staircase where sporting equipment, soccer balls, dubbin etc were
kept and Billy was in charge, mending the balls and sewing and lacing them up. There was a mark on the
wall, he had to drop the ball and it had to bounce to the second level before it was declared OK. He oiled
cricket bats with linseed oil and replaced the rubber on the handles
Billy recalls bunking out on three occasions climbing down the drainpipes into the swimming pool area and
walking to Rosebank where the boys used to get a trolley bus into town and go to Phillip’s Cafe. For half a
crown they could order a mixed grill and buy a packet of CTC or Flag cigarettes. Afterwards they would
walk all the way back to school. One particular bunch were caught and expelled but eventually allowed
back with a warning.
Billy was unable to complete his matric at Inanda leaving in 1945, standard 7, as his father was ill and he
had to go home to run the family farm. He did however complete his matric by correspondence.
Two of the boys, Felix Sullivan and Stan Silcock became brothers but later withdrew.
On leaving school, Billy ran the family farm and matriculated JCE via correspondence. His father died in
1952 and he continued with the farming, mainly dairy. The farm was located between Grasmere,
Walkerville and De Deur and he ended up being a big supplier to cheese manufacturers. Billy was voted
Farmer’s Weekly, dairy farmer of the year for several years. His farm was the highest milk producer for 3
years with his youngest heifer supplying the highest yield. He ran two other farms as well, one which now is
Orange Farm, he rented it and eventually bought it. Grinaker wanted the farm and bought it from Billy for
R500 000 and Grinaker later sold it to the nationalist government for R7m. The minister of planning at the
time was Fourie.
Henry was awarded scrolls for rugby and merit, gaining his colours and was made a prefect. He went into
banking as he was not called up, starting in Barberton, onto Vereeniging, Graskop, Barberton, Westonaria
and Florida eventually ending up at the head office of Standard Bank in the money market retiring at the
age of 60..
Fred went onto Natal University and studied for BSc Agriculture as he originally wanted to be a vet. He
joined 3M, then Ropes and Mattings (now Nampak) then on to Amalgamated Packaging Industries, then
Allnet, became MD of Olefan Textiles International and finally joined Bidvest where he retired and has
always lived in Johannesburg.
They are all still good friends. Billy’s youngest brother was at Inanda from 1947 and Billy supported him
through school after their father died. Billy fathered 5 children, 3 sons and 2 daughters. The eldest son
attended Settlers and the other two boys went to Potch Boy’s High.
Henry and Fred both fathered 3 daughters each
JLE March 2015.

Interview with Aubrey Chalmers – 1955
Aubrey’s grandfather attended MBC in Victoria, Australia in the late 1800’s and his father was a pupil at
MBC, Koch Street and his uncle was head boy of Marist Brothers Observatory in 1928.
Aubrey came to St David’s in 1949 in standard 4, his first teacher was Mrs Kempster and the headmaster
was Brother Edwin. Other brothers that he remembers who were at the school at the time were Bothers
Ernest, Benedict, Aquinas (head of Koch Street, “Bulldog”), Alban, Matthew, Pius, Br Gerald and Br Ralph
who taught Afrikaans was a brilliant rugby coach and was nicknamed “BeeGee”. Another brother who
taught Latin and Maths was nicknamed “Caesar”.
Br Edwin was a great disciplinarian but the boys loved and respected him – the atmosphere grew very quiet
when he was around and you could hear a pin drop. Aubrey respected Br Edwin and found him to be
straight forward. Although he was a sick man he had a good sense of humour and kept good control of the
school.
Aubrey remembered when he received six of the best after an incident in the dining room during grace with
the usual competition to gain possession of the milk jug from another boy. Aubrey ended up suddenly
holding the jug as the other boy released his hold and the jug’s contents shot over his shoulder and Br
Benedict ended up totally white.
On his first day the boys were up at 6.00am, shower, breakfast followed by line up and they finished school
work by 2.45pm, had tea went to the dorms and changed into sports gear.
There were 4 dormitories accommodating 44 boys with a brother responsible for each dorm. There were
boys from all over including Mozambique, Zambia, Rhodesia and Angola. On Friday nights matron Mrs
Knight randomly selected boys for a dose of castor oil
Once the boys were playing mini cricket in the dorm with Br Alban using a golf ball which involved breaking
a window and a hapless, rather studious boy who read a lot ended up taking the blame.
Aubrey was a swimmer, age group champion and was a member of Malvern Swimming Club. He swam for
the Transvaal after leaving school. In athletics, Aubrey was mainly a hurdler, represented the school and
was champion until U15. Aubrey also played rugby. As a boarder the boys did everything. Because of the
school’s low numbers the school only had A and B teams. The rugby team played Obs, Jeppe, KES, CBC
Boksburg, Springs and Germiston Boys High, Forest High and Parktown Boys. Obs and Inanda combined
to swim in the high school galas at Ellis park and always came second with KES being the top school.
There were few tours in those days and in 1955 SACS came up from Cape Town with the 1st XV rugby
team with boys from their 6th form – who were already shaving!
Specific events that Aubrey remembers are the day Marcellin Champagnat was beatified, a special
occasion and Aubrey still has the key ring commemorating the day; beating KES at rugby, the annual
triangular with Germiston Boys High, Springs Boys High and Marist Brothers Inanda.
Aubrey was in the school choir and participated in “HMS Pinafore” directed by Mr Drummond-Bell.
Aubrey’s class of 24 was the largest matric class and the school’s total numbers were around 200 boys. In
a “Spotlight on the matrics of ‘55”, Aubrey was elected the Best Storyteller.
Boys at school with him were Graeme Talbot, Errol Goeller, Andrew Oakes, Richard Rowan Irwin (who
gained the highest marks in law that Wits University had ever seen), Robin Manners, Brunton was head
boy and another boy Michael Finger was nicknamed “Tom Thumb”.
Aubrey was never unhappy and enjoyed his schooldays it was a lovely environment to be in with a good
upbringing. Aubrey was upset when Br Urban died and another sad incident was when a young pupil
Barrenbrugg died in a motor accident outside the school.
Aubrey wasn’t awarded colours mainly because of the polio outbreak and sporting events were cancelled.
Ian Kirley who was also awarded the provincial blazer was head boy for two years – in 1952 colours were
taken away and several boys were demoted. Br Edwin appointed Kirley in standard 9, there was a big
shake up in the school.
In his matric year Aubrey had decided to become a brother but during the course of the year he decided
against it and went instead to Wits University and studied for a Higher Diploma in Clinical pathology. He
was initially going to study pharmacy but after a stint working in a pharmacy during the holidays decided
that he would be a glorified shop assistant. He eventually became a clinical pathologist involved with
medical research and was the head technologist at the Blood Transfusion Service from 1963 to 1983
producing albumen. Later he was employed by Millipool, a US company until 2000 and spent 4 months in
Boston. Aubrey has worked in Wadeville for the past 11 years with Clinx Waste Management.
Aubrey’s wife is a nursing sister and they had two sons who were unable to attend St David’s as they lived
in Germiston at the time and there was no longer a boarding facility.
JLE February 2015

Interview with Andrew Kirkland – 2005
Andrew came to St David’s from Bryandale Primary in 2000, he was accompanied by three other boys
including Sean Howell; Curtis Montgomery. He had to jockey for position amongst the majority of boys who
had graduated from the prep school and who already knew each other, however he made friends quite
quickly.
The Glenmore camp was a big introduction for him, helping him to settle down into the school and Osmond
house.
He found it to be very different from a co-ed school, with a lot more direction and team building and with
hindsight the camp was pretty good.
The main reason he wanted to attend St David’s was because of the sport and his keen interest in cricket,
having played provincial cricket at primary school level. St David’s had a more personal side to its sporting
activities. Andrew played A team cricket all the way through high school. He was always the smallest boy in
the team and at the age of 15 and 16 he struggled. In another school Andrew believes he wouldn’t have
had the same opportunities. After grade 9, Andrew went through a slump in his cricket then picked up again
and did well. He was the top run scorer in the 2004 Beckwith week and subsequently got selected for the
U17A Gauteng team. He followed that up with the second leading run scorer in the 2-05 Beckwith week
and selected for the Gauteng U19B.
Highlights were the Australian Tour in 2003, when he was in grade 10 playing in the Marist Schools festival
in Bunbury in Perth, winning every game and beating St Josephs, the top Marist cricket school in Australia.
In the final game they played against St Gregory’s and lost by 1 run. The boys on the tour became very
close and still keep in touch. The highlight was winning the Beckwith week as leading run scorer and
achieving his specific honours for cricket in grade 11.
Andrew played B team rugby in grade 8, but it wasn’t the sport for him and in grade 9 he made the change
to hockey and played 1st team from grade 10. Through hockey he became friends with Kelsey Stewart and
Bryce Wray and attended provincial training camps in 2004. Alex Gitlin was very involved with the hockey
and was a good but very tough coach culminating in a successful Malaysian hockey tour and peaking at the
independent schools tournament at St Andrews in Grahamstown for their centenary anniversary where St
David’s won all their games. Andrew remains friends with Alex today.
Andrew was awarded an honours blazer, full colours for cricket and hockey, winning cricketer of the year in
2004 and 2005 and was sportsman of the year in 2005.
Andrew recalls his matric dance as being a bit of a disaster, he didn’t get the date he wanted and he was in
charge of the limo’s for the evening. They got there alright but the limo didn’t come to fetch them until the
early hours of the morning so they missed the after party.
Academically Andrew did alright but sport took first place and only when he reached varsity did he realise
what studying was all about.
The teachers he remembers most are Mr R Smith, housemaster and English –also taught the boys life
lessons; Mrs D. King another excellent English teacher; Mr D. Smith – Geography; Simon Holderness -
Maths, he organised the Malaysian hockey tour in 2004 and Mr Gitlin – hockey. Paul Edey was the most
well respected headmaster and an incredible guy, when he spoke the boys listened.
After matriculating, Andrew acquired enough points to be accepted to study for a BSc Construction and
BSc Hons at Wits University. Andrew also played cricket at Wits and originally wanted to play cricket for
Hampshire, England but there were many delays and he ended up studying at Wits for 5 years which
turned out to be better for him in the long run. During his first year there he felt he had a definite advantage
coming from St David’s as much of the work in the first year was covered, especially Maths that he had
done before. He did well in his thesis coming first. It was the first academic prize he had ever won and his
father teased him about it. It was quite hard going through university as he was also working for his father.
Andrew was involved with the organisation of old boys versus Ist team cricket eleven in August this year
with the old boys the victors. He also participated in the One Touch soccer events for the past two years.
Andrew currently works in the family business Spiral Engineering, specialising in structural steel
architectural steel and spiral staircases, winning the steel award for the Malapa Beetle Project in the Cradle
of Humankind in 2014 in conjunction with Wits University. Andrew is project manager having graduated
from small accounts to larger ones. He was involved with numerous steel projects such as Soccer City,
Wits building rejuvenation, Standard Bank, Rosebank but unfortunately, with the labour problems
experienced of late the company has been forced to limit their projects. The company is involved with
community projects such as the Cosmo City Creche, the Malapa Beetle Project in the Cradle of
Humankind.
Andrew is a Member of MOBS and any son of his would definitely come to St David’s.
JE October 2014

Interview with Alan Reeves – 1977
Alan began his career, as a day boy at St David’s in standard 1 (grade 3) in 1968. It was a
completely new school for him and he was very excited on his first day even though he really
didn’t know what to expect. He quickly made friends and remained friendly with the same guys
throughout his school career.
He remembers that as a day boy that it was good to go home each day but that a lot of time was
wasted travelling especially when school or sports functions finished late. The boarders created
a deep rooted spirit and tradition in the school and Alan felt it was a real shame when the
boarding school closed as that all vanished.
Alan really enjoyed being around friends every day, the sport, the spirit.
Some negative aspects were classes with Br Bernard who taught Latin and made all the boys
hate the language. Some amusing situations were in the class of Mr Sherman who was a
temporary History teacher. He had absolutely no control over the class, the boys initially gave
him some nonsense names. He was a disaster and, at the end of term when the parents met
the teachers there was always a long queue outside his classroom., He spent hours writing out
notes on the board and the boys would come into the class early and wipe them off. Colin
Anderson (vice head boy), who didn’t even take History shot a movie in the classroom hidden at
the back under all the blazers and Mr Sherman didn’t even notice.
Teachers he remembers well and who left a lasting impression on him were Br Timothy, who
showed him the meaning of leadership and empowerment as he guided him but let him make
his own decisions as head boy. Ken Lipschitz used very progressive teaching methods and Alan
thought that both he and Br Timothy changed a lot of aspects at the school in a subtle way to
more modern educational processes.
Alan remembers Nassey Simaan and his wife Agnes. Nassey was the rugby coach and
coached the 1972 rugby team which only lost one game..Agnes was a very kind person and all
the boys would go to her if they had problems.
Angelo Haggiyannis, head boy 1974 and Alan were both in the Wanderers Club athletics team
and used to take part in athletics competitons. Alan said that Angelo was a brilliant athlete and
they are still friends.
Alan enjoyed the leadership courses and in particular the one held at Queen’s College in 1977.
There was also a leadership course held at Hibberdene where, on the last night the boys put on
a show which included taking off the teachers!!
His most memorable moment at St David’s was when he was told he had been elected as head
boy for 1977, this was in the October 1976 and the day he was also informed he was to receive
the Marist Provincial Award. At his first matric dance in his grade 11 year he was partnered by
his girlfriend who is now his wife.
Academically Alan received a study scroll. He was part of the band playing guitar at the interhouse
plays held at Rosebank Convent.The press attended and a good write up followed. Alan
loved sport and was in the rugby 1st XV team, A team swimming, A team water polo and in the
athletics team. He represented the SA invitation team in the pentathlon and SA Defence in
pentathlon in 1981.Alan was head boy in his matric year. On his last day Alan recalled feeling
very sad as friends were going to different universities, military service and emigrating.
He went on to study for a BComm at Wits University. He has always owned his own businesses
together with his brother Mark and owned Foto First and Beyond IT for 25 years, sold out in
2004 and started DIY Depot in 2007.
JLE 2012

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