Stephen Jenkins was an Alleyn’s schoolmaster whose reputation preceded him. By the time my cohort entered his orbit, in the mid 1970s, he had a reputation for telling long-winded tales of psychic happenings, visits to far-flung places, UFOs, extra-sensory perception, ley lines…
…his 1977 book, The Undiscovered Country, can still be obtained from sellers of rare second hand books for under £100 at the time of writing (February 2020), a snip at the price I’m sure but I shall personally pass on that one. I’ve scraped one of the product descriptions to here in case the above link ceases to work…
…in short, he’d talk in lessons about pretty much anything other than the subject he was meant to be teaching.
So why in the name of all that is good and pure was this fellow allocated to my third year class, 3BJ, to abstain from teaching us not just one but two key subjects; English and history?
Strangely and despite Stephen Jenkins contrary efforts, many of us managed to bounce back up to the A-stream after 3BJ. In my case, I ended up with Jenkins again, I think for history ‘O’Level (perhaps it was English – it really is impossible to recall what Jenkins was supposed to be teaching us) when I was in 4AT/5AT, so this anecdote about Sandy Rowswell might have happened a year or two later than I am guessing.
I should add, to avoid confusion, that the Alleyn’s Stephen Jenkins died some years ago and has nothing to do with the impressive LSE Professor of Social Policy who inadvertently shares his name.
Anyway, I clearly recall an incident in class when the Alleyn’s Stephen Jenkins was waxing lyrical about his latest trip to Tibet.
The incident has been brought back to my mind lately, because I have been Ogblogging the rather wonderful though gruelling trip that Janie and I made to Tibet in 2002 – click here or below for a sample page – feel free to read, look at the eye candy pictures and divert yourself from whatever you are supposed to be doing – it’s what Stephen Jenkins would have wanted:
In truth, I always liked Mr Jenkins’s tales of far-flung travel the best. I found the psychic and UFO stories hard to believe, I found the idea of ley-lines intriguing but unconvincing, but I did enjoy the tales from his travels. They were believable, enviable even…and I felt I was learning something useful…even if it wasn’t particularly useful for the purposes of progressing to O-level English or history.
Anyway, during a long Stephen Jenkins anecdote about his recent visit to Tibet, Sandy Rowswell chimed in by saying words to the effect of,
“sir, I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that you have ever been to Tibet.”
There was a hush in the classroom. One glance at Stephen Jenkins’s face and the self-styled sobriquet “Mr Murder” now looked very apt. Sandy Rowswell was ejected from the class and told in no uncertain terms that his punishment would be swift and merciless afterwards.
It seemed such a daft challenge to me. Of all the things Mr Jenkins waffled on about, the travels element was the only manifestly plausible aspect.
I don’t think Sandy Rowswell really got the idea of overseas travel…nor the idea of tempering one’s remarks about a subject whether one “gets it” or not.
My only other recollection of him was for another ill-considered remark, in 1979, soon after we confirmed that I was to join Anil Biltoo and his family in Mauritius that summer – a wonderful, life-changing experience for me that cemented a love of travel:
I recall Sandy Rowswell approaching me and saying,
I hear you are going to Mauritius with Biltoo this summer?
When I confirmed that fact, Sandy Rowswell replied,
You wouldn’t catch me going to a place like that, having to stay in mud huts.
I laughed and shrugged it off, but word of this exchange must have reached Anil Biltoo from other sources, because Anil sheepishly raised the matter with me, pointing out that his family did not live in mud huts. I recall telling Anil that I really didn’t mind what sort of accommodation we’d be having.
There is a rumour that Sandy Rowswell went into the diplomatic service after leaving Alleyn’s. OK, the source of that rumour is the preceding sentence of this article, but a rumour is a rumour.
Returning to the Tibet veracity incident, I have no real reason to assume it took place on 18 May 1976, but while skimming my diary for clues, I did enjoy the entry for that day.
Great tennis won 6-4 6-4 with Driscoll.
Does that mean I beat Paul Driscoll 6-4 6-4 at singles, or does it mean that, partnering with Paul Driscoll, we beat some unfortunate others 6-4, 6-4? There is only one person in the entire world who might possibly remember the event (because I sure as hell cannot) – so I’m shouting out to Paul who will no doubt confirm a similar blank on this one. He probably doesn’t even remember that there was no water polo the next day, despite water polo having been far more his thing than mine..
But I am now digressing more than a typical Stephen Jenkins lesson. Click the link below for a chance to buy Stephen Jenkins book – you know you want to.
