My time at Hymers, from the icy depths of 1963 until the balmy summer of 1969 was, for me, in any particular order, empowering, educational, enjoyable, and formative. As a wee boy from leafy West Hull, being a direct grant student, Hymers gave me six unsurpassable years. I have the fondest of memories of Mr Sutton, Mr Watson and Headmaster Mr Harry Roach, and many more. I loved music, and played double bass in the school orchestra. On the other hand, sports were not my strongest suit. Notwithstanding this I had six wonderful years, and I made many friends

What happed next? Well, I went to the University of Manchester to read Medicine, starting at the age of seventeen. Following this I managed a short interlude as an NHS doctor (50 lively years, plus two weeks). I finally threw in the towel recently, having lived and breathed General Practice in Lancashire all this time. For those who want to have a tilt at GPs, please remember this.

There has recently been an outbreak of meningitis in Kent. Each GP sees one new case of this terrible condition, on average, every sixty years. She or he has to recognise it straightaway! If they saw their first case the week that England beat West Germany in 1966, then they might see their second one next week!! And then, while they are administering Penicillin and phoning the hospital, in order to try to save the patient's life, the waiting room will be getting restless. The next person through the door might well say "What on earth were you doing, keeping me waiting? It's simply not good enough"

I will finish this with the last verse of my poem for the Hull Vigil from 2022. It goes like this. Best read it slowly?

And so after three score and ten

I'm knocking on Hull's door again

O'er Whitefr'gate, Robinson Row

Swirling in the mist below

O Gaul O Hull O God tell me

Have I been good enough for thee?

I hope so. Best wishes, Hymers, and thank you

Peter Robinson

Old Hymerian 1963-1969