Mr Howard Stockley - Kings Norton Boys

from the 1987 Anniversary edition of the "Eagle".'The end of an era' is a cliché and little offends Howard Stockley more than theuse of tired language. Nevertheless the summer of 1987 sees the end of a significantperiod in the history of King's Norton Boys' School; Howard is retiring.It is difficult in a few lines to capture the essence of a legend. Perhaps thegreatest testimony to Howard's genius is the constant stream of visitors whoknock the staff-room door to ask, 'Is Howard anywhere?'Years after they have forgotten all else about the school, their loyalty to him remainsundiminished, as does his delight in their progress and achievements. Asa teacher Howard liked nothing better than enthusiasm in his students. His ownlove for his subject fired him and inspired all around him - but woe to the pupilwho had the ability but chose to waste it. Howard respected ability and delightedin the achievements of his pupils, not out of a sense of vainglory, butsimply out of a regard for the individual, although there was, without doubt, atinge too of envy, particularly for those who reached Oxbridge!It was a sadness that Howard's determination and devotion left him little timefor the staff common room. We rarely saw him, except on state occasions, althoughwhen he was around nobody could miss him, and some of his singlemindedand forthright expressions of opinion often lifted meetings out of routinemonotony into the realms of melodramatic sensation.Away from such heady atmospheres Howard's out-of-school interests often bubbledover into casual conversations and we all learned the secrets of amateurradio, hill-climbs in old cars, the aristocracy of Worcestershire or the techniquesof haute cuisine. One story, however, lingers and will stay with me forever, thatof the predatory cat-fish which annexed his goldfish pond and threatened todrag him to perdition whenever he approached. Having said all this, I am consciousthat only the vaguest outlines of the man have been captured and thatthe spirit, the actuality, eludes me. Howard is a man to who no-one could remainindifferent. No-one who ever sat in a Howard Stockley lesson was thesame again, no-one who has had the privilege to work on the same staff willsee his like again.It is not in the words of this article that Howard's memory will live, but in thehearts of those who come back sometimes over vast distances, to ask, 'Is Howardanywhere?