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The College had an entrance on Windmill Lane. On the other side of the road, behind some bushes, was a green belonging to the nearby golf course - I think it was the first hole. The clubhouse was down the hill from this green, and so the green was not fully visible for the final approach shot.
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A lesson learnt! Whilst standing in the middle rank in the CCF waiting to be inspected, a chum offered me sixpence to turn the wrong way. Sixpence would buy me a Mars Bar, so I did it. I was given a day’s extra parade.
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This memory has probably been related many times. One night towards the end of term, we were awakened by exploding thunder flashes, which had been suspended across the quad on wires to detonate one at a time - for what seemed like an hour or more. The whole school, including the masters, was fully awakened, and pupils watched from dormitory windows, awaiting the next explosion.
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I started at Worksop in 1964, having been at Ranby for five years. I recall arriving with my trunk and tuck box and being shown up to School House junior dormitory, which contained 30 boys, plus a small annexe with, I think, five more beds, on the third floor of the building near to the Chapel.
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I suspect that some of my most vivid and lasting life memories are those gathered from my Worksop College experience - long red-bricked corridors; “horse boxes” to work in (your only personal space); men on the moon; decimalisation; the smell of the mud on the rugby pitches; away matches; huge, curtainless windows in the dorms; endless supplies of milk; gravy with white bread; suits on a Sunday; flared jeans and tank tops on a Saturday; getting letters from home; having to write to parents to confess a misdemeanour!
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When I went on the 2024 Classics trip to Rome, I was nervous, as I’m not one to enjoy being away from my family for long. But that trip ended up being one of my favourite experiences as a pupil at Worksop.
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A great school with lots of happy memories, where I made some life-long friends - one of whom is still my best friend today. I am now Godfather to his daughter, and we keep in touch regularly, meeting up at least twice a year.
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On my first evening at the College in September 1955, I joined five other new boys in Pelham House. We were allocated our own small dormitory. In the early evening, at about 7.30 p.m., we decided to have a pillow fight, and a frantic session ensued — much enjoyed by all!
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Attending Worksop was a truly transformative experience upon which I reflect fondly - and frequently - some 50 years later. Arriving as a nervous and cautious 13 year old and departing five years later much more assured confident and resilient.
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I was the first girl to attend Worksop. I joined for the Sixth Form when Christopher Everett was Headmaster, and was later joined by two other girls in my second year.
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I recall the great friends I made, superb rugby coaching from Alan Old, and wonderful cricket.
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During my time at Worksop College, I arrived as a shy young boy from Thailand, joining late in the academic year.
