Monday 26 March 2012

An Uncommon Teacher – John Baxter


Wynberg Icon - John Baxter
On the last day of term, 23 March, there were many of us who remembered that it was exactly six years ago that a Wynberg Icon, John Baxter, passed away while still a teacher at the school.

He and I go back a long way.  I first met him while on enforced military duty standing in the ranks lining the streets outside the Goodwood Showgrounds as part of the 1971 ten year celebration of the Republic.  I remember this naval rating (Able Seaman 2nd Class – just like me) giving a running commentary on the Government and military officials as they drove passed. Audible only to those of us in the immediate vicinity, he compared every Homburg –hatted dignitary with some member of the Politburo or ranking general in Nazi Germany.

Pilletjies, our nickname for the Warrant Officer in charge of us – we knew he must have been taking something because he was so fanatic on drilling – knew that someone was passing comments, but fortunately for the future generations of Wynberg thespians and history students, AB2 John Baxter escaped censure, detention barracks and deportation and was left free to continue with his pedagogical career.  Those who knew him throughout this career know that he never lost the knack of criticizing anyone in authority.

I did not meet him again until in our final year of University.  We were both doing an STD -  in the days when it meant Senior Teachers’ Diploma and not the modern more pejorative interpretation.  It has only been comparatively recently that it was renamed PGCE (Postgraduate Certificate of Education) and thus freeing teachers from the stigma of probing questions on their social lives.

During one particular lecture I heard that familiar voice expressing a somewhat forthright opinion on the quality of the lecture and the teaching ability of the lecturer.  Turning round I saw the scowling face that I would later grow to know so well.  As luck would have it, we were both sent to Hoerskool Voortrekker to complete the Afrikaans segment of our Teaching Diploma.  I learnt my lesson on Bismarck off by heart and was first up with a Grade 9 class.  I duly rattled it off and with a feeling of smugness of a job well done, I accompanied John Baxter to his Grade 10 lesson on the French Revolution.  ‘Well done,’ said John. ‘You managed 40 minutes of an Afrikaans history lesson using only three verbs the entire time.’

Not that he was much better.  He started off by trying to set the scene of the differences between the classes in revolutionary France.  ‘Die ryk mense het in groot paleise gewoon’ he trumpeted to the class. ‘En die arme mense het in….. het in…..’ he was starting to panic as he searched for the word ‘hovel’ in Afrikaans, ‘…het in klein huises gewoon!’.  The class descended into chaos and remained that way for the remainder of the period as they chortled amongst themselves at how the peasantry could live their lives in toilets.

Somehow we both passed the Afrikaans segment of our Diploma.

At the conclusion of the year, Neville Blackbeard, then Headmaster of Wynberg, appointed us both to the teaching staff.  I had a History post with a Latin component and John had a Latin post with a history component.  John wanted it the other way round and spent a considerable number of weeks working at me to agree.  I eventually did, Mr Blackbeard concurred,  and thus began a very enjoyable 30 year career teaching a wonderful subject.  Thanks John.

I didn’t thank him at the time, though.  I had to spend a entire Christmas holiday revising grammar and Latin texts before the first year of my teaching career began.  In my first Grade 11 class I had Owen Rogers as one of my pupils who kept me on my Latin toes.  Now he is Acting Judge Owen Rogers with a string of law degrees to his name and is arguably South Africa’s finest legal mind.

Thanks John.

Describing Wynberg as a ‘cultural desert’, John threw himself into the production of plays. Wynberg soon became well known for his Shakespearean productions.  His first production was Richard 111 in 1976. He hauled in boys from the lst team rugby and those who were wee timorous beasties.  He gave them all the confidence to perform in front of large audiences.  He bullied, badgered and browbeat them all to have the assurance to rise to the occasion.  There are now hundreds of Wynberg men who have in their careers since then built on that trust and faith he showed in them.

He also gave the teaching staff the opportunity of showing their talent.  In 1978, he produced ‘See How they Run’ and it is a tribute to John that virtually the entire cast – including Neil Crawford from Port Elizabeth – arrived at his funeral to pay their respects to their former producer thirty years later.

It was in his final production before he died, ‘Post Horn Gallop’ (2005), that I saw John Baxter embarrassed for only the second time in my experience.  As was his wont, he assembled the cast on stage to go through aspects of that evening’s rehearsal.  ‘Mandy,’ he said to Mandy Colman cast as a saucy Cockney maid, ‘I want more sex from you.’   Mandy stood up and displaying a full thigh of fishnet tights, said, ‘Anytime, John, anytime….’

Even John was at loss for words.

The first time that I saw him embarrassed was in 1976 when the school had a Panel Inspection.  The school had been painted, teachers had been exhorted to purchase suits, schemes of work had been dusted off and a horde of grim-faced inspectors from the Education department were due to spend a week descending on fearful teachers.

It was my turn and I had my Grade 11 Latin class (which included Greg Brown, now Headmaster of Bishops Prep)  and the imposing presence of an inspector, all dutifully listening to my stuttering offerings.

Half way through the period, the door burst open and without surveying the lie of the land, John Baxter asked me loudly whether that twit-of-an-inspector had been to my class yet…..

Pilletjies was avenged.

John’s open mouthed reaction was something I cherish to this day……

John was an outstanding history teacher.  He loved the subject with a passion and was extremely well read.  European Royalty and Russian history were his special interests and he was never, ever, short of an opinion.  I have yet to meet a Wynberg Old Boy who did not enjoy his history lessons.

As good as he was as a teacher and producer of plays, as useless he was with the mechanics of a car.  I once was a passenger with him in his much travelled Austin Healey which had broken down.  He opened the bonnet, waggled the dipstick, and pronounced the car to be @#$#@!.   We called a mechanic, who agreed with him on his diagnosis but not on his means of obtaining it.

On another occasion, he arrived in the staffroom and announced to all and sundry that he was selling his car because the gear box had broken down as he had just driven all the way from Plumstead in first gear.  Kobus Blom offered to assess the damage and returned later with a tennis ball which had wedged itself under the clutch….  Notwithstanding, the guffaws of laughter, he did sell the car a few weeks later.  ‘What kind of car did you buy, John?’ asked Kobus.

 ‘A white one,’ he replied.

John was unique in that he got away with comments in the staffroom what would have led to open warfare if uttered by anyone else.  After Alta Diederichs had passionately  raised a point in one staff meeting, John floored her by remarking ‘This is what happens when you give women the vote – the next moment they want to run the school!’

He reserved biting wit for Afrikaans teacher,  Piet Smith, who loved it.  ‘You are out of your league here, Piet. You are so common. Why did they let you out of Williston??’  (Williston is a village of a dozen houses in the Groot Karroo where Piet was born).

‘You are so common’ was John’s ultimate put-down.

'In fond memory ...'
Shortly after he died on 23 March 2006 after a long illness, two Old Boys Greg Brown (1977) and Chris Hyland (1976) came to see me offering to organise a memorial for John.  Both had acted in his plays while at school.  They wrote to all who had been in one of his plays and so the John Baxter Outdoor Theatre came to fruition.


Over the last few years it has seen many musical productions  - now it is time for a play.  John Baxter would expect nothing less and he would not have been backward in letting us know.
The Jonny Cooper Orchestra performing at the John Baxter Outdoor Theatre - Christmas Eve 2011

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

If a sequel to The story of a school is written today, I am sure a few chapters would be devoted to John. I don't think I have come across anybody that could use cutting sarcasm a a weapon of mass destruction in the way he could. But the reason we all liked, enjoyed and respected him was the fact that he had a heart of gold. He did hide it quite well, but it was so evident when you watched him in his dealings with his pupils and colleagues. We all miss him, but fortunately there are so many stories that just make it impossible to forget him.

Carol Ramsay said...

It is so interesting to read about past WBHS staff and students and what they have achieved in their lives. Look forward to more anecdotes!

Comments