When John arrived at Bede’s in September 1981, the school was a vastly different world. It was an era before computers and interactive whiteboards, where the student body numbered just 100, and the institution's survival was far from guaranteed. Forty-five years later, as he prepares to step back and focus on family life, John reflects on a remarkable journey that saw him evolve from a young Chemistry teacher to where he is now. 

"I still haven’t decided whether it was dedication or inertia," John laughs, with the characteristic modesty of someone who has spent nearly half a century serving a community. "But on the whole, I’ve really enjoyed it. I think I was here at exactly the right time."

To look at the modern, bustling campus of Bede’s today, it is almost impossible to imagine the landscape John stepped into.

"When I first started, the only buildings were the Manor House and Stud House” John recalls. "On the other side of the road was a large chicken shed, which eventually became the transport and general storage section. There was no Multi-Purpose Hall (MPH); there was nothing over there at all."

Teaching was a low-tech, high-energy affair. Classrooms were housed in prefabricated buildings brought in by the founding Headmaster, Roger Perrin.

"Everything was blackboards and chalk," John says. "My chemistry lab was just in the corner where P12 is now. And in the early days, we used to conduct the exams from the prep room—a windowless store, surrounded by chemicals. Probably not quite up to modern regulations!"

In those foundational years, survival meant versatility. There was no army of support staff; instead, teachers turned their hands to whatever needed doing. Alongside teaching chemistry, John found himself running all sorts of activities.

As the school grew, so did John’s responsibilities. Following the departure of his predecessor, he was appointed Head of Chemistry, then Head of Science, and eventually, Examinations Officer.

"When we first started, the exams role was a relatively minor one—just an extra duty incorporated into a teaching job," he explains. However, as national education regulations swelled, the role became all-consuming. John eventually stopped teaching at age 65 to manage exams full-time, as the special needs section and technology requirements grew too vast for one person to balance with a timetable.

Before the advent of modern technology, running exams was an administrative mission of epic proportions. John recalls the arrival of the school's very first BBC Computer and dot-matrix printer: "We started doing the entries on disk, but to print out the timetables took all day because it was just so slow!"

The logistics were intense. Before the MPH was built, exams were scattered across the gym, the art room, and multiple classrooms. John and his colleagues had to manually set up desks, invigilate the sessions themselves during free periods, collect the scripts, and physically drive them down to the local village post office.

Forty-five years of school life naturally brings a few unforgettable highlights—and lowlights. John vividly remembers the Great Storm of 1987, which left the school looking "like a war zone" with trees down everywhere, requiring the staff to muck in with saws to clear the compound.

Then there was the year of the modular science exams, which saw 300 candidates sitting papers simultaneously in the gym during a freezing winter. "The snow started, and we had to drag the snow-laden desks back into the gym. The snow melted, so the gym floor was awash with water, you just can’t imagine it now!" John chuckles. 

John’s "jack-of-all-trades" ethos was tested to the limit when Headmaster Roger Perrin discovered John held a Public Service Vehicle (PSV) licence from his student days. After some trouble on the trains, Perrin turned to him at 5:00 PM on a dark winter's evening and asked, "John, can you drive this coach up to London?" Without a second thought, John loaded the pupils into a battered coach and headed for Victoria Station.

While the technology has shifted from slates to scanned online marking, John is proud that the core identity of Bede's has never wavered.

"It has maintained its ethos of the pupil coming first," John says firmly. "It has succeeded in always being pupil-centric. That was Roger Perrin’s absolute priority, and it has definitely carried through."

John paid a warm tribute to the "absolutely superb" leadership of the early years, including Roger Perrin and second Derek Newton, who steered the school through its infancy. A few years ago, John spotted the two founding pioneers walking the grounds together. "What amused me was the fact that they were wearing visitors' passes! I thought, they shouldn't need badges—this is their domain!".

Having recently been treated to a retirement celebration—complete with a VIP ride across campus in a ‘Toro Workman Truck’, "That was a highlight! A bit scary, but first-class treatment,") - John is content to pass the baton to the next generation.

His focus now shifts firmly to home and family.

Reflecting on his choices, John has no regrets about spending his entire career in one place. "Perhaps some people would criticise me for not being ambitious enough, but there was too much opportunity here. I’ve really enjoyed it. The development of this place has been absolutely fantastic, and I’m just so pleased for the young people who come here today. They get the best chance in the world."