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Memories of Miss Ruth King, Headmistress

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Jo Edwards (Mabbitt, 1960-1968) has found the letter (below) amongst her late mother’s bits and pieces. 

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My mother left school in 1938 and went to Hockerill College at Bishop Stortford to train as a teacher. Returning to Colchester, she taught for a brief time at St George’s (then Canterbury Road) before starting a permanent job at North Street.  She married in 1942 and, after the war ended, she and my father started to hunt for a house.  They finally settled on their forever home, 71 High Street, more or less opposite the Holly Trees at the lower end of High Street moving in during 1947.  Mum arrived home from North Street one summer afternoon and, much to her utter horror, found High Street blocked by fire engines, cordons across the pavement and police trying to control both traffic and onlookers.  71 High Street was on fire, having been struck by lightning during a storm that afternoon. 

 

As it happens, the fire was a blessing in disguise.  Although the fire was quite serious, it only damaged the central core of the building, affecting the large landing and the roof above but not the bedrooms or the ground floor. My parents were insured and builders quickly moved in. They removed all the damaged roofing and the chimney stack and disposed of it in an ancient well in the garden.  This had been capped but my father, unaware of its existence and enthusiastically double digging the neglected garden, had put his spade through the cap and had almost followed it!  The well was just deep enough to accommodate all the

 rubble - two birds with one stone - no more rubble, no more well!  The landing had been incredibly dark but the builders were able to put roof lights in.  Much better!  All was well. 

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However, those who witnessed the firemen that afternoon were not aware of the level of damage.  One of those witnesses was Miss King, who passed the chaotic scene on her way home from Greyfriars.  She lived further up High Street.  My mother was very touched to receive this letter, so touched that she kept it for the rest of her life.  What an extraordinary person Ruth King was.  Ten years after one of her students left school, she cared enough to write to that student in her hour of need.  She certainly had hidden depths and, in those depths, was a heart of gold.

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