Victor Prooth

My class first encountered him at the end of our first year at Holgate. Once we were seated to his satisfaction he declaimed from his desk, "Gentlemen, you will have heard, I'm a bastard. It's true." We were both stunned and undeniably impressed. Here was a teacher who used the same kind of language that we did. It set the tone for our relationship with Vic through the next four years. He had our respect, we knew where we stood with him but none of us stood in fear of unfair punishment or retribution. If you got caught misbehaving in class you were simply invited to stand in front of his desk and look at an imaginary painting on the back wall of the classroom before being asked whether you wanted top-spin or back-spin before he clouted you on the back of the head. He didn't have to do it often, and I don't remember anyone ever complaining amongst ourselves. I remember that, on one occasion, having gained knowledge of my interest in Grand Prix racing he made sure there was a copy of Speed Six in the class library and then drew my attention to it. One other memory of Vic which I would like to share was an event which happened to a friend of mine whom Vic, as he did with many of us, called by a nickname, in this case "Freddie" after Freddie Jones the actor. Anyway, on this occasion Freddie was walking along the top corridor by the art room when Mr Prooth came along in the opposite direction. Freddie knew that he had been spotted and had no choice but to acknowledge the meeting. The conversation went something like this:

VP: Ah! Freddie! Have you done that homework for me yet?

Freddie: No Sir.

VP: Why not Freddie? Have you never had an event you will remember all your life?

Freddie failed to spot the trap which was being cunningly laid.

Freddie: [With enthusiasm] No, Sir. That's it, Sir. I've never had one, Sir.

VP: [Using pantomime villain voice] Then come with me, Freddie.

At this point Mr Prooth, followed by an increasingly nervous Freddie, set off in the direction of Mr Prooth's classroom: Freddie was surprised when they didn't go into the classroom but instead stopped at the top of the stairs where, according to Freddie, Mr Prooth grabbed him by the ankles and dangled him over the bannister at the top fo the staircase where all the jumble which was then carried by school boys in their blazer pockets began to fall on the heads of the unsuspecting pupils using the staircase.

VP: Will you remember this event for the rest of your life Freddie?

Freddie: Yes, Sir!. I will, Sir! For the rest of my life, Sir!

VP: So, now you can write my essay can you Freddie?

Freddie: Yes, Sir!

VP: And when can I have my essay Freddie?

Freddie: Tomorrow, Sir. Tomorrow.

The conversation was at an end and Mr Prooth put Freddie back on his feet before walking off leaving my friend to collect his belongings from the four flights of stairs down which they had tumbled. No-one thought this behaviour to really be worthy of comment other than to find it amusing and effective. Freddie wasn't complaining about it when he told me the tale.

Victor Prooth was definitely one of a kind!

--
" Prayer indeed is good but when calling on the gods a man himself should lend a hand"
Hippocrates

From an anonymous former student, https://exiledtyke.wordpress.com/2012/11/05/riding-along-with-davie-police-victor-prooth/