
We were lovely children really…
At this time of year, my mind always goes back to the sixties and my time in Willow Park.
Willow Park is Blackrock College’s little brother, the preparatory school, preparatory being the posh word for primary though, in fairness, it did include first and second year of secondary.
The end of the year was special.
We all looked forward to summer – and holidays in exotic locations such as Skerries or Loughshinny or Rush. Occasionally, we went “abroad” – well, outside the county of Dublin – and spent a few weeks in Ardamine or Rosslare or Fethard-on-Sea.
But it was when classes ended that the celebrations began.
Our dean was Fr Stanley. He was known to one and all as Stanno.
So as classes ended on that last day, we’d gather in the wide corridor, lined with locker and coat hangers.
And we’d chant a gentle rhyme to demonstrate our appreciation of the work Fr Stanley and our teachers had put in during the year.
It went like this:
No more Irish, no more French,
No more sitting on a hard old bench,
Kick up tables,
Kick up chairs,
Kick old Stanno down the stairs.
We were WAY ahead of Alice Cooper…

I was expelled from school. So there.
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Our school was a nice school,
The walls were made of plaster.
The only thing that spoiled it all’
Was the baldy headed master
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