Photographs of Norton Board School in the early stages of demolition. Unfortunately I have not recorded when I took these!
Photographs and details courtesy of Norman Hill.
Picture Stockton Archive
A Pictorial History of Stockton-on-Tees
Photographs of Norton Board School in the early stages of demolition. Unfortunately I have not recorded when I took these!
Photographs and details courtesy of Norman Hill.
Picture Stockton Archive 
Like Mr. Mee – a friend of my late father Ken, these photographs bring back memories. Mine from 1969 to 1972. Old Mr. Thompson used to have tests – one I remember was regarding gills, quarts, furlongs, yards etc. – if you got less than 8 out of 10 you were punished. A queue was formed from Mr. Thompson’s desk and in the lower right cupboard were a selection of bamboo sticks with different coloured masking tape used as a handle. I remember being in a long queue once and was whacked on my wrist. Old Mr. Thompson taught my Aunt Anne Sheraton who went on to be a Head Teacher; he died when I was attending the school. The long queue I was in (for getting less than 8 out of 10 correct in the test), would seem to prove that it was Mr. Thompson’s fault for failing to teach us information in such a way that we would retain it!
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I smile Sarah not only at your memory of Mr Thompson who must have indeed been old in your time, he was old in my time long before yours, but also memories of Ken, full of fun to us lads, wickedness to the more straight laced. Half the scrapes we found ourselves in could be put down to Ken who could have found trouble any time any where it was his fault we were banned to the back pew in Church at least it got us out of the direct sight of the Vicar.
Norton Board School was a wonderful training ground for the pitfalls of the future, discipline being inherent with the three “R’s” as taught very well by some very good teachers.
We were brought up with Gills Quarts Pints Pounds Ounces Furlongs and the old monetary system so to us it was easy, our problems started when some idiot took us metric, what on earth was a litre and why didn’t 144 pence add up to a Pound note any more we knew what a Gross or Hundredweight was, a Bakers Dozen and Half a crown. a Mile what on earth was a Kilometre. It was all meant to make the brain explode as far as we were concerned and I still think in feet and inches or Ten bob’s.
The clamour to keep old cold and decrepit buildings makes me think people have never had to live in them be taught in them or worse work in them. It served its purpose well, then as with all of us went the way of all things and the new appeared, now there is uproar because that too is disappearing, not by me, progress cannot be halted, I am glad the Council see it the same way.
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Part of my life from five to eleven, we skipped down from Norton Green, John Dent Ian Downs, Bill Watson, Christine Pollard the Diets and Robinsons, meeting up with the children from Station Road, Ken Crawford Marjory Davison Sig Mason and many others. We played laughed and ran together until we reached either the Archway when younger or the back yard next to the Police House on one side and Mr Greens shop on the other then your heart sank. It always seemed hours before we got our milk and out to play. Home for lunch, no school meals and back to more long hours. No messing about in class we sat at desks in rows and kept quiet as Mr Fishers cupboard door would open upon which were hung straps canes of all sizes, you chose your own punishment and took it like a man, a cry or even a tear and you got one more. Mr Thompson was less liable to be roused although he had his moments. Did it stop me being a tearaway no, did it harm me No, we took the punishment knowing we had earned it as a rule and did not tell our parents as that would have got us more, every one in the village knew each other, Parents and Teachers talked when they met or at Church, something else that was the norm back then.
War came we all thought it wonderful as it was only half a day at school, one week mornings one week afternoons, freedom to do as we wished never knowing the reason was if the school was bombed only half the village children would be in it at the time. Shelters were built and back to normal the eleven plus a pass and the breakup of long friendships as we departed to different schools, that of course providing your parents could afford the uniforms and kit needed, many did not make it because of that.
People say what a pity it went, it was old cold and a bit like the dark satanic mills to us who went there in more draconian times, we did not know at the time those dedicated Teachers set us up for life’s realities, I do look back and thank them but a more modern building would have been nice.
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how sad to see this
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