Curtis, Peter
Biology teacher from January 1967 to closure
Extract fromThe Gazette No 66
My father Peter Curtis was a Biology teacher at Ottershaw School and passed away in April this year.
As a child Peter largely taught himself and did well enough to gain a place at Cambridge, where he gained an MSc in Natural Sciences. He represented the university in cross country running, was a founding member of the Underwater Explorers’ Club and went on an expedition to the Congo, where he lived with the Batwa Pygmies for six months and collected snakes for the Natural History Museum.
He joined Ottershaw School in 1967, when he would have been 29 years old, and taught until the school closed. Our childhood memories of his teaching methods have become embellished over time, but we like to remember him as unconventional and inspirational. He would demonstrate how alkalis and acids would neutralise each other by mixing enough of each ‘to kill 100 men’ and drinking the lot – claiming that it just tasted a bit salty. He’d demonstrate a flashback by filling the teachers’ sink with gas and igniting it, exploding the mahogany sink lid up through the ceiling. He would introduce lessons on the skeleton by stretching schoolboys, using the whole class to pull on the hands and feet like a tug-o-war. He’d measure the ‘victim’ before and after stretching, and in many cases the boy had gained an inch or two in height!
Outside the classroom he ran the Young Farmers’ Club, which we remember mainly as keeping pigs and feeding them on swill from the school kitchens. He was always proud of being given the rank of Squadron Leader for his involvement with the RAF section of the CCF, piloting light aircraft and gliders –which he crashed five times over his lifetime. After he had shown the pupils the film The Great Escape, they dug a room under his classroom during the summer holidays and lit the den using the dynamo off a bicycle. The annual wide game would challenge the boys to see who could get the furthest from the school in 24 hours. On one occasion a winner was announced when Peter received a call asking whether the travel costs would be reimbursed if the authorities returned a boy they had picked up with stolen ID. That may well have been the time when Dad awarded a commendation for making it to the Mediterranean.
In the manic rush between home, classroom, the school farm and Cadet Force, Peter would squeeze in a school meal whilst the boys discreetly timed him – a legendary speed-eater finishing three courses in sub-30 seconds. As children we remember adopting a tawny owl and one of the boys helping to rear it. Our Shetland pony Sammy would often escape and Peter would enlist the schoolboys’ help to catch him from the runway at Fairoaks airport.
Our family lived in the grounds, and my two siblings and I all have very happy memories of our free-range childhood. Although we weren’t ‘Old Boys’ I’m sure these memories will resonate with many of you. The school was a fantastic place to spend our formative years.
Adam Curtis
Peter Curtis, with his innate jackdaw habits, managed to scrounge an ALOUETTE helicopter to put on display outside the CCF hut, not to mention a V Type fighter-bomber. We won numerous gliding and flying scholarships (our practice glider survived numerous hazardous flights in the School grounds). On one memorable occasion an RAF helicopter landed in the grounds and gave the majority of the cadets and the officers a flight round Surrey. The crew delighted in shaking the latter up with some unconventional manoeuvres, though we managed to maintain a brave face. After twelve years in command I retired from the Force and handed over to Squadron Leader Curtis.
The above comments were penned by former teacher, the late John Oecken and are taken from the book “Run Like a Stag”