"As I watched MY old school being torn asunder on Monday, I thought I would have been distraught at the loss of a building that has had such a strong influence an a profound attachment in my life, from my days as a wee first former in 1J to the present time when I am reaching 20 years as a teacher at the Model. Much to my surprise, I had no flutter of sadness nor a tear in my eye, even as my old room, Room 32, crumbled to dust.
I think this is because I have realised that my memories of the Model lie not in the bricks and mortar but in the personalities that have, particularly as a pupil, made me laugh and cry, have encouraged and nurtured or in some instances totally terrified but instilled respect.
I can remember my knees knocking under the desk in Room 15 as I awaited the arrival of Frau Pendry with her sweeping cape and stern stare but can still remember her sympathy when I told her in perfect German that my granny was dead - when she wasn't - because I couldn't remember the german word for jumper when asked what my granny had bought me for Christmas. I fondly recall Mrs Tinto, curled up with legs crossed on top of the bench in Room 16 reading extracts from "A dog so small" by Phillippa Pearce and getting lost in the magic of the story. I remember giggling in the counselling room, which later would become a learning mentor's room, as Mrs Hargrove told us where babies come from. We weren't giggling at the lesson, but we were all copying each other in a line by imitating each other down the line folding and unfolding our arms and finding it all very funny. Memories also of Mrs Smith, our RE teacher in Room 30 when a fellow pupil put her leg under the teacher's desk and used her foot to push out the bottom drawer. Poor Mrs Smith would push it back, only for my chum to push it out again a moment later which led the teacher to announce with great seriousness that the room must be built at an angle, while we stifled our laughter at her naivety. While Mrs D Clarke, the Head of English regaled us with tales in Room 29 of how she was black and blue because her husband had kicked her all night in bed as he dreamt he was scoring the winning goal in the world cup.
Although each room in the old Model conjures up poignant and amusing memories, it is the people that I remember most and the Model has always been full of characters, both staff and pupils, who will be remembered long after the disappearance of that old, dilapidated but wonderful building."
