4 years ago
Claire Whiting
John Day was a legend within the Wales High School community and will be sorely missed by staff and former pupils.
He was Head of Year 11 when I attended Wales as a pupil. He was a formidable character and if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time (as I was once) you would not repeat the incident. He was also kind, funny and inspiring. He made the many camps that take place at Wales a tradition and I was lucky enough to join two of them. “Good morning, good morning, good morning campers, rise and shine,” he would bellow each morning, wearing his snazzy 1970s purple shorts even during a cold Easter in Abersoch. He was a story-teller second-to-none, and would jump on top of one of the mini-buses and in deep, melodramatic tones capture the sights and sounds of the experience for parents collecting their children at the end of the trip.
“Boom....boom...boom.” My dad was captivated as Mr Day described our visit to Mount Etna on a 3 week trip to Europe, volcanic ash pouring from the crater and the mini-buses having to spin round and hurtle back at speed because Etna was erupting! We had to stop to gather some ash on the way down of course – all part of the experience. My name then was Claire Leaning and he was tickled to be able to take my photograph leaning against the Leaning Tower of Pisa – one that seemed to feature in the slideshows he would share for years afterwards. I was the only Year Eight girl on that trip and did not always find it easy; I remember him grabbing me as we were pitching our tents in a sandy spot in Rome and waltzing me round to cheer me up. A few years later, together with Mr Timothy, he was a great advocate for me to become a writer, which is still an aspiration. When I turned up again at Wales 25 years later as the Educational Psychologist he was incredibly proud, although he did ask me about the writing...
When I was the EP at the school it became clear that JD (as he had become known), now Head, was immensely respected by the staff and that he was passionate about inclusion.
And so, spanning generations, Mr Day was still the Head when my son started at Wales, and, like me, he was also lucky enough to experience John Day’s drama, his love of sport and to go on two of his camps. They had progressed to caravans rather than 3-man tents by this time but these experiences continued to create memories and friendships for my son in the same way. He loved his Mr Day and I am afraid that when he retired nobody else was ever going to quite fill his shoes.
As Wales celebrates 50 years this year it is poignant that Mr Timothy and Mr Day are no longer with us to see this happen.
