Ken Gorman (1929-2014)
Ken joined the KEGS staff in the autumn of 1960 as Art Master, a post he held until April 1963. His fine voice was soon put to good use when he sang a solo at his first Christmas Carol Service in the Cathedral. The following spring he took over responsibilities as Housemaster for School House (for the boarders). He took an active interest, particularly in their sporting activities, always offering his vocal support from the touchline! His passion for film making led to his sponsorship of a Film Society in the School, and some Fifth Formers made a film, “Mischief Afoot” under his direction. He moved nearer his native County Durham, taking a number of posts in the education system locally – spending the last thirteen years of his teaching career at Barnard Castle School, where a memorial service was held on 17 January 2015. In later life, he published a number of crime thrillers, fulfilling a lifetime ambition, some with his own illustrations. He remained in touch through the Old Burians’ Association.
Richard Mortlock writes: “Yet another passing of one of the more flamboyant of staff from my era at KEGS. Ken never taught me art – that was the dubious responsibility of Don Tapster, sadly also not with us any more. The fact that Ken never had to teach me was probably why we became more friends than teacher and student. When I was in the Vth Form (taking Maths and Physics and leaving Art behind), I used to be involved with the “tuck shop” – a shed opposite the old assembly hall in the quadrangle area. Ken would always visit the shop on his way to his first lesson and purchase something to eat like a Wagon Wheel or some similar chocolate delight. I would always attempt to overcharge him on the pretext that he earned more than we did, but this was met with that withering look and high-pitched chuckle! I was not particularly interested in making money from the tuck shop but it was here I ran a little “pop pools” enterprise – which involved predicting the movers and shakers from the current week’s Top Ten as noted in the New Music Express, to where they would be next week. It was 3d a go and all the money went to the winner – honestly!
The daily ritual of buying tuck and grizzling about the prices led to a strange kind of friendship which ended when Ken left in 1963. I did keep in touch with him over the years and actually visited him in Houghton-le-Spring with my then girl-friend Maggie. Ken actually took the photograph of us – you can see his shadow in the foreground!
His letters over the next few years were sprinkled with innuendos but were beautifully written in his italic script. His house was decorated by him as you would expect, and every wall and ceiling was a primary colour, very bright indeed. To underline his, and Northern hospitality in general, there is a tale concerning a surprise visit my friend Peter and I made to him one summer’s day. We had met a couple of very nice young ladies (sisters) at Cromer when they were on holiday from South Shields. We spent a few days with them and promised to come up and see them (as you did!) and they gave us their address. Obviously they didn’t expect us to turn up, but turn up unexpectedly we did one evening, but were told in no uncertain terms to “sling our hooks”. We couldn’t stay with them as they had promised – mother wouldn’t be pleased. Mother? There was no mention of them living at home when we bought them numerous drinks at Cromer!
The night was spent asleep in the Ford Anglia in a lay-by as we wondered what to do. The next day we heard on the radio that someone had fired a shotgun at people sleeping in a car in a lay-by a few miles from where we had been. We either had to go home, or visit my old mate Ken and make the most of the rest of our stay up north. Ken was surprised to see us (to say the least), especially as he was about to go on holiday himself. Despite this, he gave us the keys to his brightly-painted house and went on his holiday.
As it happened I contracted tonsillitis and spent most of the next few days in one of his beds, but we had a few days here and there. When it was time to return south, we locked up, dropped the keys through the letter-box and headed home. I cannot think of many people who would have been so kind – especially as he had never met my friend. We shared a few more letters after that, eventually lost touch and I was sad to read of his passing. His smiling face and amusing banter, plus his genuine friendship will remain with me, together with the tales!
Farewell, Ken.