WRITING about the Verdin schools in my last Winsford Flashback made me think of my old school days next door at the High Street secondary modern.

We never knew just how close we were to passing the 11-plus exam, but failures went to the secondary modern. We started our 'big school' at Wharton but by 1960 we all had to move up town.

The classes at Wharton were upper one and lower one and so on, but at High Street they were, by the third year, 3A1; 3A2; 3P1; 3P2; 3P3 and senior remove, which was for the slow learners.

I was quickly demoted to 3A2, mainly because I got in with the wrong crowd or so the teachers thought. Unlike the grammar school, we had no uniform then, but we could not go in jeans.

Victor Woodall was the headmaster, nicknamed Chimpy by us all and our first form teacher was Mr Parry who passed away not long after we arrived - I remember at his funeral how all the pupils and staff lined High Street as a mark of respect.

The school was divided into four houses, Brunner, Tolfree, Verdin and Andrews.

House marks were added for good work, timekeeping and behaviour and lost for misbehaving.

At the end of the year whoever had the most marks won the house cup, similar to Harry Potter's school in the first book.

The bus fare from Wharton was one and a half pence. Mr Evans and Mr Stringer came from Wharton School with us.

Mr Evans, a history teacher, started a school museum, where pupils were invited to bring artefacts in to add to it. We loved him, not so Hubert Stringer, deputy head, who had a thick cane and used it liberally - especially after we were caught smoking in the old Victorian toilet block in the playground. Not that we could smoke in peace with the older boys wanting a drag.

Mr Dobbin was our last year form teacher, a kindly man, though we longed to be in the practical form where they had Mr Reece for gardening. He was a character.

The woodwork building was at the end of the playground down some steps. Dinner hour was spent eating Josie's penny buns, from a shop near the school next to Struggy Dones forge.

Of course there was also Jasper's shop or Astbury's record shop next to Chapel Street.

The cross-country run I would hate, Algy Davies and myself once hid along Roehurst Lane and when the rest of the runners had done the three miles we popped up in front of them on the way back and came in first - we were grassed up and you can imagine our fate.

Towards the end of our time a new school was built in Grange Lane with a new science lab, where one pupil was almost gassed on the Bunsen burner by over zealous jokers.

When I left in 1961 all I had to show was a Bible, which I still have as my only reminder of happy days.