Tim Belknap
If you want some memories, here they are:
The torture of waiting hours
outside Chitty's office to get "the cuts" with other miscreants caught
talking after lights out--then hearing them get caned while waiting your
turn; the bogs and Bronco toilet paper, which seems to have been
case-hardened through some sort of waxing process, certainly
character-building; the addition of protein to the diet in the form of
live maggots in the purportedly boiled cabbage; the hedges and all the
"shacks" with secret passageways and feuding clans; Saxon (the dog) - the only member of the Chitty family with whom I maintained affectionate
relations; terrorizing East African Railways & Harbors employees and
fellow passengers, including the kid we debagged and then held his
shorts outside the window, only to be blown away before his very eyes;
being one of only three Americans (plus Canadian Dick Beach, but not
including my two bros, whose tenures overlapped) and being somewhat
persecuted for same; holding Roman Games involving safari ants,
tarantulas, dug pits, and magnifying glasses; clearing 14 feet in the
long jump; getting my knee twisted for the Stuarts(?Sandringham) in the final moments
of our rugby match against the Windsors and limping down the san
supported by best friend and fellow Yank Gray Goodman because everyone
else had cleared out without noticing my misfortune and were having
dinner when we came into view in the driveway--the nurse, Mrs.
Walker??, came running out when she saw us through the window; Jane
Chitty's and David Jupp's perioidic in-class tantrums; riding through
some wonderful country on nimble ex-polo horses; Jupp's talent as a
history and art teacher; ditto for Jane Chitty, who helped teach me how
to write an effective sentence; the kindness of Archie Fraser. I could
go on...the place, for better or worse, was unforgettable.
Regards, Tim
Page maintained by Andy Russell, last updated 6 June 02