1. The Death of Eltham Green

Eltham Green 1956

This is the Eltham Green that I remember, a shining example of the prototype London comprehensive schools that aimed to change the world. Opened by Lord Hunt (the conqueror of Mount Everest) in 1956, the building embodied the ambition of London County Council's (LCC) planners and architects. They envisaged a first class democratic and egalitarian education for everyone, regardless of ability, gender, creed and ethnicity. The school represented a fundamental break with a past where young people were discarded at age 11. It was modern, futuristic and exciting. From the very beginning, I loved it.

But the LCC was murdered long ago, and now the schools it built

are being destroyed, with ruthless contempt for the past. There has been little fuss in the newspapers and no noisy campaign to save comprehensive education or the handsome buildings that once expressed the post-war dream of a more equal Britain. 

Sir John Betjeman fought for Victorian Gothic, St. Pancras Station and the Euston Arch but no contemporary writer, poet or artist has launched a crusade to save the soaring modernist towers of the comprehensive era. This may be due to the careful management of the destructive process.

Imagine you did not know that Eltham Green has gone, expunged from the south London horizon forever. Suppose you returned from life somewhere else, Australia perhaps, and strolled down Eltham Hill. When would you realize that Eltham Green has disappeared?

Right now, you wouldn't really be able to tell until you reached the gate. Your eye scans for Eltham Green School and you get this instead. A 'Welcome' mural mounted on steel bars that introduces you to the strange powers that have taken charge of the site and building.


Next year (2015), the truth will dawn as you descend the hill from Eltham. Where's it gone? You won't find the old place, hunt as you will.

The bulldozers are booked, the demolition is arranged and soon the school will cease to exist in this world. You may sense the chill air of ghosts and shadows, haunting, hair-tingling reminders of your youth and of the people you knew here. But there will be nothing tangible left behind.

Even now, the Eltham Green name or crest is hard to spot. I discovered 'Eltham Green School' on the Lift B service plate, apparently left by the new masters for fear of the electrical dangers that lurk beneath.

The famous oak tree emblem, from which all the little acorns were supposed to grow, has also survived in a single unexpected spot. There, top left in a health and safety notice, is the instantly recognisable symbol of a very great school.

For Harris, the well-known carpet brand, the very words 'Eltham Green School' are toxic. The name, the crest, the building and the history must be eliminated. There must be nothing to link the magic carpet that is Harris with this predecessor school. EGS's recent struggles against loaded dice have become a source of shame, a story to be lost as soon as possible.

A fine example of public architecture must be demolished. The memories of former students must be buried in dust and broken masonry. We must forget the LCC and deny the ambition and achievements of the post-war period.

Assembly Hall Interior photographed in 2014

I lack the networks to mount a successful campaign to have the Assembly Hall preserved, listed and admired. I'd love to rescue the comprehensive experience, to save the school that inspired my life. I still hear the orchestras and choirs, still remember the words of my teachers, still love the vision of education the school embodies. But I'm not that kind of campaigner.

Instead, this blog records my impressions and memories of Eltham Green School. I travel on one last journey to EGS and report my thoughts, past and present. I draw on the images that are available to me (with apologies if the copyright is yours, not mine - let me know and I'll put it right) and remember as best I can the people, scenes and events that happened around me.

Dan Dare (Pilot of the Future) in The Eagle comic
captured the spirit of modernity

This is memory work about EGS, therefore, not fragments of autobiography. Your stories and lessons are different from mine but are every bit as important. None of us is a typical student though we have shared a common experience of uncommon power. We were part of a Brave New World, part of the space age, part of the Festival of Britain, and as part of the comprehensive experiment, we were the first properly educated generation in English History.

Memory and history are important for their intrinsic interest and significance but also because they contribute to an inevitable struggle for life and meaning between social groups. Our EGS experiences are woven into our identity and we have to remember them to sustain our distinctive voice against the siren calls of carpet salesmen and their allies at Westminster who claim the past was a failure.