PETERHOUSE NOSTALGIA

... MEMORIES ...

John Coates

How many times have teachers who've had the guts to say, "I don't know the answer to that question." had their frankness rewarded by some kindly Muse who whispers, "Ask John Coates... he'll know"? How many Common Room crossword-freaks and floundering poetry-teachers, stumped by some obscure Metaphysical allusion, have had the answer in a flash from JMC with a slightly raised eyebrow and jutting grey beard, as if to say, "You should know that"? I wonder how many teachers anywhere in the world can claim - as is true of John Coates - to have taught almost every subject in their school curriculum, from the History of Art to Shona Language... or how many teachers, after a quarter of a century of coaching, would have the humility to say, "If I could ever have swum half as good as that boy does I should die a happy man". How many Latin pupils could truthfully say (as many of us can - I vividly recall, for example, being told by JMC how to go about getting a licence to drive a chariot!) that their teacher made the subject alive and interesting? And how many thousands of Peterhouse boys, over the past thirty years, have settled comfortably back in their chairs as John Coates has started a lesson with the question, "Did you know that..."! There was always the gentle assumption that no one could possibly know 'that', whatever it was - because hardly anyone ever did. For behind that cloud of pipe smoke, those beetling brews and that ready smile, lies one of the finest and most generous minds this school has ever seen - a veritable well of knowledge which has slaked a thirst many didn't know they had until they were taught by JMC.

John Coates was born in Berkhamstead, Hertfordshire, in 1924. He was the youngest of three brothers; his father was Curator of Ancient Manuscripts at the British Museum and his mother was a professional musician. He did all his schooling in Berkhamstead, and left school as a prefect and with a scholarship to Oxford. From school he stepped out into the darkest hours of the Second World War and joined the Royal Navy, where he served as a sublieutenant in the North Sea on Motor Torpedo Boats. After the war he read 'Greats' (Greek and Latin) at Oxford and, during his four years there, played water-polo, some rugby, and did a lot of swimming.

In 1950, having joined the Colonial Service, he was posted to Nyasaland (now Malawi) where he served for ten years as an Assistant District Commissioner. He married Bridget Cartwright (a former next-door-neighbour whom he'd known since he was nine!) in 1958 and it was she who landed him a post at Peterhouse - almost by accident, when she paid an unexpected visit to the school in 1960 and met Fred Snell. John started teaching here in 1962, "not having a clue" what he was supposed to do, though those of us in his D1 Latin set would never have guessed!

He was soon made responsible for school swimming and the Rifle Club, and three years later became the Housemaster of Founders, where he held the reins for seven years. He and Bridget have a son Martin, who came to school at Peterhouse and is now in forestry, and a daughter, Jane, who trained as a nurse, married, and is working as a tour guide at Hwange.

Over the years John has written three books (all as yet unpublished) - one 'obscurely historical' (Byzantine) and two science-fiction novels, one of which is currently under consideration by a publisher - several short stories which have been printed, and a lot of poetry - much of it for the edification of his colleagues - some of which has been published. He philosophically describes the demise of Latin - in a Zimbabwean school like Peterhouse - as 'inevitable', and views with favour the recent shift in academic focus to a curriculum more geared to environmental awareness and computer studies, for example; he feels, however, that there is still room at Peterhouse for greater emphasis on academic achievement, as opposed to what he sees as a bias in favour of sporting prowess.

With John now in retirement, we can be sure of one thing: even if we know little else, as we salute John Coates and his cerebral challenges, all of us at Peterhouse are the poorer for the departure of the man for whom the expression 'a scholar and a gentleman' was surely coined. At least, that's what those of us who have benefited from his wisdom and charm over all these years choose to believe. Can anyone, now, do 30 across!

GRC