Date and Time
14 November 2019
5:30 pm – 7:00 pm
Derby Grammar School, Rykneld Road, Littleover , DE23 4BX
The David Walker Memorial Lecture
The Old Derbeian Society are proud to announce Jimmy McLoughlin as the special guest delivering the annual David Walker Memorial Lecture, 2019.
As former Special Adviser and Business Director to Prime Minister Theresa May, Jimmy will share with us what really goes on behind the doors of Number 10.
About Jimmy McLoughlin
Jimmy is a former pupil of Derby Grammar School. He left in 2005 to take his place at the University of Birmingham to read Political Science. From University he joined the PR and digital marketing agency Fleishman Hilliard as Account Manager before moving to Bell Pottinger, a multinational PR, reputation management and marketing agency as Associate Partner, and then Associate Director. In 2014 he moved to the Institute of Directors as their Deputy Head of Policy before joining Number 10 Downing Street in August 2016 as the Special Adviser on Business Relations, a key role which liaises between Downing Street and business.
Jimmy was awarded an OBE in Theresa May’s resignation honours for political and public service.
Tickets and timings
Doors open at 5pm and the lecture commences at 5.30pm. Please take your seat for 5.15pm.
The event is open to all. It will be followed by a short Q&A session where you are invited to put your questions to Jimmy.
Wine, soft drinks and canapes are available to all after the lecture.
Reserve your place here
Free parking is available on site.
Yes, gentlemen, the OD Society are now the proud holders of the original CCF Ceremonial Sword and Scabbard as worn during all official parades of the OTC, JTC and CCF from the early 1900s until 1973 when the CCF was disbanded.
The last holder of the sword Mike Foulke as the RAF Commanding Officer at the Moorway Lane site has so very kindly donated it to the OD Society.
Derby School after World War 2
An article submitted by Alan Hancock (1946-1953)
This article was the winning entry on the latest website competition.
I entered Derby School in 1946 and left, to take up National Service in the Royal Navy before going on to university, in 1953. Looking back after more than 70 years, I appreciate what a momentous period of social and political upheaval that was. In 1946, I had little idea. But I believe that I understood, even then, that I was in a very unusual and progressive school, with an eclectic mix of staff driven by the post-war fervour.
The teaching was effective, and some of it inspired, but what I remember best is not what went on in the classrooms, but more the extra-curricular life. At least, that is what exercised the greatest influence on my future. I could cite the school plays (I appeared in two major productions, of St. Joan and Murder in the Cathedral) or the musical tradition (I played violin, abominably, in the school orchestra, my voice broke during a performance of Messiah and I made a few attempts at composition). But the school trips abroad were probably the most influential part of my school life – they were responsible for a lifetime of international work and travel. And in retrospect, they must have been quite unusual at that time, taking young students into a Europe which was still trying to recover from the devastation of a world war.
The first trip for me was an exchange visit to Grenoble in the French Alps, when I believe I was twelve. It was my first trip abroad, and made even more exciting by our stopover for a single night in Paris (and a first taste of an illicit glass of cider). Our placements in Grenoble were eccentric: one of our party spent his time in a chateau, complete with servants, while another was taken to the local market each morning to help the family sell shoes. My friend and I were lodged together in a bourgeois apartment in the centre of the city, with weekend sorties into the Alps (where we ‘helped’ to hunt wild boar). We were rather poorly matched with two brothers who were much older, and who created a sensation when we returned together to Derby (they were both good looking, and one of them, on the wilder side, hooked up during his stay with a girl working in Woolworths).
The second trip was also an exchange, with Bruhl, a small town south of Cologne dominated by a lignite mine and notable mainly for its native painter Max Ernst. There we spent a week or so in a local school, which was an enlightening insight into the culture of a German high school (especially the raucous end-of-year celebrations). We must have been very early young visitors to Germany after the war, though we weren’t particularly aware of it.
The third and final school trip was to the small town of Pont Croix, close to the wild peninsula of the Pointe du Raz in Western Brittany. This was not an exchange visit: we stayed in some kind of boarding school or convent and lived (in my unreliable memory) on artichokes. We must have developed curiously accented French, as this was largely a Breton-speaking region. My most vivid image though is quite different. The toilet facilities were primitive, and we used an outside latrine, without running water. I kept my identity card and paper money (what there was of it) in my trouser pocket, and on one occasion, they slipped out of their moorings and dropped into the latrine. One of the staff heroically volunteered to be held by his legs and lowered into the pit to retrieve my funds and identification, something clearly beyond the call of duty (let alone sense). He was successful, and my money was laid out to dry on the grass, though it – and my identity card- were best located through a sense of smell for the rest of the holiday.
For me, there was one other memorable trip to come – also thanks to the interest and tutelage of Mr (WOB) Butler, geography teacher. I was not studying geography, but that did not deter him from tutoring me in writing an essay for a competition organised by the (then Overseas League), on the intimidating theme of demographic problems in the British Commonwealth. Possibly because I was younger than the other competitors, I was awarded third prize, which took me on a month’s study tour to Cyprus at a time when the island was not yet divided, but when nationalistic pressures were already visible, even to a young student. I was not then politically aware, but the island itself was a joy – full of exotic Mediterranean landscapes that I had never seen before and a culture (and a cuisine) far removed from Derby. To cap it all, I experienced my first flights, and stopped off in Rome and Athens for a couple of days on the way. I even had the excitement of being delayed in Athens on my return journey (and the additional excitement of sending a telegram to warn my parents, ending up on a return flight abroad the new Comet aircraft. That created a thirst for travel which led to a professional lifetime of living and working abroad in an international arena. Without my time at Derby School, I imagine that my life would have been very different, and much poorer.