Part1.
I had quite a shock last week. I decided that I would sign up to http://friendsreunited.co.uk/ and check out what had happened to some of my old school mates from almost 40 years back. Wow, I wish in a way that I hadn't bothered. Most of them are rattling on about retiring soon!
But then I got to thinking. Academic I am definitely not, but quick-witted and opportunistic I definitely am. So how come I spend my time fitting windows as a one-man band, why haven't I accumulated a pension with profits so's I can down tools and enjoy the good life?
Here's why. In my school-class of 40, I was generally placed around 16th. Back then in the UK, you could leave school at 15 or you could stay on into the 5th form and take GCE's to become qualified for a beter job or maybe go on to uni. I opted to stay on. Education was the way forward!
Half way through my extra year, my Dad approached me. Why don't you quit school and work in a factory with Brother Darnell? He has a vacancy, and, Armageddon is just around the corner, 5 years max, you are not going into higher education, c'mon Son this will be right for you.
OK, Dad, OK, I went along with it and informed my teachers that I would be leaving at the end of term to work at Elliott Business machines in Feltham.
My teachers went ape. What a waste, why, why, why? Just another 9 months to get your qualifications, why not wait?
The last day of term, I did my rounds of all my teachers to say goodbye. Everyone of them shook my hand, looked at me sorrowfully and asked me to reconsider. I said no, this World is doomed, there is no point. My class mates went off to look forward to 3 weeks Xmas holiday. I had 3 days break and started work in the factory.
The day ran from 7.45 till 5. I wore a white coat and built addressing machines. I wasn't unhappy, I just had a vague niggle that I could be doing something better. I felt like a bit of a lemon within my family, Dad was a professional man, my cousins were all uni graduates.
After a year my Dad announced that we were going to serve where the need was great. He packed in his job, sold his house and we went to live in a mobile home in the depths of Yeovil, Somerset. At age 16 I became a labourer digging ditches and laying concrete, he became a traveller for a clothing company on around one third of his usual salary.
Financial problems were looming, also the Yeovil congregation had no idea that we had been sent to serve "Where the need was great". They just thought that my Dad must have been nuts to give up his well paid job at London air-traffic control to move into such a back-water place.
Still, my Dad assured us, rich blessings from Jehovah would soon be ours!
End of Part 1.
Englishman.
Bring on the dancing girls!