Hartley Neita, Contributor

This week's reunion banquet of my old school, Jamaica College, sent my memory along the corridor of time, back to my first days there as a boarder 60 years ago.

Time flies. The number of my former classmates has dwindled each year, some by voluntary migration to other lands. Others are now drinking milk and honey, I hope.

In my time at this school, there were no houses nearby. No Ravina, Hope Pastures, Mona Heights or Blue Castle. Neither the Universities of the West Indies and Technology nor the United Theological College were built as yet. There was no Welcome Supermarket, no Sovereign, nor Lane Plaza. There was a hotel, Liguanea Terrace at Matilda's Corner but no Olympia Hotel in Papine. Campion College and the Church of Sts Peter and Paul, Mona Preparatory and Mona Secondary did not exist.

All around the school were Bombay mango groves which we took delight in invading and racing the rangers, who chased us back to the school on horses.

Becoming a 'Grub'

We had religious services in the Chapel twice daily. Except on Saturdays. On my first evening, I walked from the Simms building, which housed my dormitory, to the service. Returning to my dormitory, I walked a short cut across a beautifully kept lawn opposite the Sixth Form building. A voice from the doorway of the form shouted at me.

"Grub!" it said. "Come here." His first finger hooked its order over and over. I went and stood at the foot of the steps looking up at him.

"Grub!" he repeated. "You have committed the cardinal sin of walking on holy ground, a privilege reserved for sixth formers alone. Come inside."

I climbed the steps and entered the classroom. Inside, there were two dozen sixth formers, including prefects.

I was ordered to stand at attention and sing the national anthem "God Save the King". I did so dutifully, with my hands pressed to my side, my chest thrust forward and my shoulders pressed back.

Joining the choir

"You will be recommended to join the choir," I was told.

The next question was: "Grub, do you have a sister?"

I answered yes. Eyes look approvingly at me.

"What's her name?" I was asked. "Cecile," I replied.

The next question was: "What school does she go to and how old is she?"

She goes to Four Paths Elemen-tary School, and she is eleven.

Eyes became angry. I was shouted at. "Grub, a sister goes to St Andrew High School, Wolmer's Girls' School, St Hugh's, Alpha or Immaculate. Not one who goes to a school in the bush. A sister is a girl who is sixteen or over. From this day onwards, you have no sister."

And so it was for my first year. I was a Grub, the lowest form of animal life, and I had to whiten the Sunlight Cup cricket team's boots, and clean and oil the Manning Cup football team's boots.

What hurt me most is that neither team won the cups that year.

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