Grey Lynn School was already 50 years old in 1960, when I first attended as a five-year-old. Solid doors, old wooden windows and floors all told the story. The cloak rooms smelled of leather satchels which hug on the heavy steel hooks. We played in the shade of the old Puriri tree that grew at the front.
The moto, “Deeds Not Words” set the tone over the main entrance and the friendly smell of Weet Bix wafted over the grounds from the factory next door.
I dawdled the long half mile that took me from lower Dryden St up to the school. We all walked in those days and children were taught how to cross the road alone. For me the walk required a lot of zigzagging across the roads as the’ very confident’ neighbourhood dogs were not restrained. No one cycled and parents were rarely seen in the school grounds.
On a Friday, we ordered our lunch from the dairy beside the school crossing; potato fritters and chips in newspaper or a pie and a doughnut for a shilling (10pence). Our orders were delivered to each classroom at lunchtime.
A small, slatted shed sat at the front gate, for the daily delivery of crates of milk. The milk boys would bring the crates to each classroom- one bottle of milk for each child. Any wonder certain children had permanent running noses and glue ear. Allergies had not been discovered yet.
Up by the road was the dental clinic, complete with a well starched dental nurse. She would arrive in our classroom and read out the names of the children who were next on the list!
We really loved that! ☹ But afterwards, you were given a little puzzle with a rolling drop of mercury in it!
Once a week most children brought the equivalent of 10 or 20cents to bank in our ASB bank accounts and once a week, to help with expenses, each family contributed a similar amount, tucked in a little brown envelope. We called it ‘Amenities’.
Once a month we could order a paperback book from the Lucky Book Club- affordable and always entertaining easy reads, contributing to a love of reading, I’m sure.
We played Bullrush on the large expanse of asphalt each lunchtime. Current Waitemata Board member, Greg Moyle also attended Grey Lynn School when I was there, and he was the fastest runner in the school! Cycles of marbles, knuckle bones and elastics came and went.
I don’t recall any bullying, but one day when I was in Standard Two, I did stab the boy I loved with a pencil, as he ran past me. The Headmaster wanted an explanation, but how could I ever have explained? The strap was still a thing at that time, but mostly only appeared as an intermittent deterrent.
In the mid-sixties job recruitment was a simple process. I put my mother’s name forward when the Headmaster asked us if we knew of any available teachers. She was allowed to bring my little sister along each day. My sister would join in with the activities and have her afternoon nap at the back of the classroom. No problem.
My mother was very proud to be part of the new educational trends happening at Grey Lynn School at that time- a new maths programme, mural painting, skipping for fitness. She invited the Polynesian parents into the school, to teach everyone their songs and dances. That was a first, and they were very happy to contribute. She adored her job at Grey Lynn and remained there till the mid-seventies.
Over those years my father was the Chairman of the Grey Lynn School Committee. I remember him building a wonderful flying fox through the trees. He rescued the school swimming pool on more than one occasion as well. Swimming lessons in the summer were a real treat and for some children, it was their only experience of swimming.
Things were certainly different then. Our family had lovely memories of Grey Lynn School, and of course, it was sad for me to see that the old school buildings had been demolished, but life goes on.
Kathryn Avenell (nee Hahn)
