31 August 2018 & 1 September 2018
WARNING: reckless humour and banter follow. All references are to real people, places and events, and are fully intentional.
Despite the brooding angst prior to most reunions, it never ceases to amaze me how these trepidations give way to the familiarity and genuine warmth of the event. For the Class of 1988, this 30 Years On, held on 31 August and 1 September, was no exception. It is interesting how significantly the memories from that relatively short period of five years (six for Adrian Nunn, for whom some of the more significant memories involved Mr Wylde with his threat of joining The Mikado cast as an alternative to the real punishment of expulsion), embed themselves in one’s mind, able to bridge an increasing timespan now cluttered with the concerns of marriages, families and maturing careers.
Two things were special about the context of this reunion: Mr Illsley, our most-capable host to our Friday morning walk-about, started his career at Boys High in 1988, and shared a number of notable experiences from his slightly-fiery baptismal year (Solomon House features with the fiery bits – it always does – and the risky erection of a zipline in the hall for the effect of some poor member of The Mikado cast crashing into the proscenium arch five meters above the stage; and I hope that his account of 1988 is not the explanation for Mr Reelers’s absence that day); and being forty- going on fifty-somethings, many of the Old Boys now have the common fortune of having their own boys presently attending the school (unlike his career as a schoolboy, Adrian Nunn was the first out of the starting blocks in this respect:
his boys having long-since passed through the school – yet somehow, he seems to have impressed himself more on the mind of the current headmaster than his sons – he just keeps coming back).
My son implored me, prior to the reunion assembly, that our guest speaker should not deliver a Boring Speech. This task fell to Dr David Reynders, who tackled it admirably, surprising us with the remarkably-familiar re-invention of his Form III English speech, comparing our lives with a sandwich (this central theme oriented around food was very exciting for the boarders).
As much as it made an impression on me 33 years ago, v2.0 of this lovely speech only benefited from the wisdom and experience of the past three decades, much the same as a good red wine (the delight of the literal description of the sandwich’s contents was just a little too much for the Rissik House boarders, which I believe presented somewhat of a barrier to their grasp of the metaphor). For the benefit of our Solomon House readers, I will explain that the obvious gist was that the making of this sandwich was up to our own imaginations and effort with the assistance of the Greatest Kitchen in the World at our disposal, namely, Pretoria Boys High.
I was quite stunned by Andre Barnard’s scripture reading, which turned into more of a brief but punchy sermon about being Joshua-like warriors seizing the day with courage in the midst of war and adversity, a fitting message to match the expectation conjured from Andre’s lengthy CV of his sporting achievements following school.
And as much as the great hall has marvelously changed, there is a warmth and comfort about the content and format of the assembly that is still the same – from the reading of notices and sporting results, to the singing of hymns and prayers. To our delight, we were also reminded about another thing that hasn’t changed: Dimitri Kambourides’ unbroken High Jump record of 2.10m set in 1988! The ceremony was well-rounded with a masterful performance of a cello duet performed by an ’88 Old Boy, Kendall Reid, and the eye-wateringly-talented Form III boy, Christof Joubert.
The festive lunch that followed, the poignant moments of the Last Post contemplated over a port and the embers of the dying day, were all a delightful precursor to the hearty and boisterous dinner of the Saturday. George Harris (currently on loan from the Class of ’88 to Hilton College as Headmaster) delivered a memorable toast to the school, and together with the Headmaster’s reply, reminded us both of the great challenges educators and schools currently face, and more incredibly, the fantastic achievements that have been made.
The attendance by the masters is not taken for granted, and for this we thank each of you for making this event whole – some of whom, despite still being on staff, were still willing to face us; others who stubbornly refuse to leave beyond their retirement (Chalky, you’re a legend) or who are a constant feature at the Old Boys’ club (Mr Obermeyer). We were rather pleased by the attendance of Mr Schroder, who could finally get a taste of what he missed with the Class of ’88 (by all accounts though, the feeling is mutual). To Mr Reeler, whichever committee is responsible for decisions about World Peace, Energy Sustainability, Headmasters and other globally important matters, we feel they have made the right decision and placed this remarkable school in good hands: we wish you well, and hope to see you at at least the next two reunions as you build your career and legacy.
It cannot be left unsaid how grateful we are for the attendance of Mr David Wylde, who travelled a great distance to be with us. The Class of ’88 was incredibly fortunate to experience the full force of Mr Wylde’s six-year tenure at Boys High as deputy headmaster, during which period his impact was indelible, intelligent and significant (particularly for the bottom of Mr Nunn). During my speech, I was able to remind him of his disclaimer during his farewell address in our matric year, when he stated that he was “not a rat deserting a sinking ship”: we believed you Mr Wylde: you were a rat and the ship was not sinking!
Lastly, I thank you, the Old Boys of ’88, who by your mere presence, travelling from near and (very) far, made this such a beautiful and memorable experience. Memories of past events are important, reflections upon which remind us of who we are, where we came from, guiding as onwards towards the future.
Gavin Ehlers (1988)
(part-time enabler to the most-able Byron Brooker and his organizing committee)
