Out of the Woods But Not Over the Hill by Gervase Phinn

to try and to discover what is behind, waiting for you –’ he paused for effect – ‘and which to pass on by.’
    I guess, for many of the pupils in the school hall that heady July morning, the headmaster’s metaphor was lost upon them, but for me, an ambitious, rather studious, idealistic sixteen-year-old, those words have remained a vivid memory. The closed doors in my own life have been rarely, if ever, locked, and I have been immensely fortunate that I have had caring, supportive, encouraging people all along the way who have helped me through them.
    Throughout my life, I have been encouraged to open doors by my parents, my grandmother and my teachers, but many a time they have opened them for me and urged me through, building up my confidence to do so.
    My grandmother’s dictum was that life is short, and to make the most of it. She encouraged me to believe that every opportunity which comes my way should be taken; I should read books, take an interest in people and events, not be afraid of asking questions and expressing opinions. A favourite expression of hers was: ‘Never be afraid of chancing your arm.’ Then she would add: ‘And don’t take life too seriously – after all, nobody comes out of it alive.’
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    A Father’s ABC of Life
    Always remember my son to:
    A ct in a matter that you would wish to be treated,
    B e considerate . . .
    C hoose your friends with care,
    D on’t take yourself too seriously,
    E njoy all that life offers you,
    F ollow your dreams,
    G uard against bitterness and envy,
    H arm no one,
    I gnore the cynic,
    J og a little each day,
    K eep calm in a crisis,
    L augh a lot,
    M ake the best of what you have got,
    N ever miss an opportunity of saying ‘Thank You’,
    O pen your heart to those you love,
    P ay no attention to grumblers,
    Q uestion certainties,
    R espect the feelings of others,
    S tay true to your principles,
    T ake a few measured risks,
    U se your talents wisely,
    V alue your family,
    W ork hard,
    X -pect a lot of yourself – but not too much,
    Y earn not for riches,
    Z est for living should be your aim in this world.

‘Don’t You Have a Proper Job?’
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    Working Life
    Into the World of Work
    My first interview for a job was a simple and informal affair. My girlfriend’s father had a friend who was manager of a large bread factory on Greasborough Street, on the outskirts of Rotherham. I was looking for a job just after the sixth form and during the weeks before departing for college so, on his recommendation, I presented myself one Monday morning at the factory. The manager, a lugubrious-faced individual with thick, black-framed glasses, reached out and picked up a pencil which was lying on the desk, and twirled it between his fingers.
    â€˜Work hard, be punctual, do as you are told, wash your hands and don’t steal the bread, and you’ll be fine.’
    And that was it.
    Chuck, the foreman, a bald-headed, rotund little man with a stomach as solid and round as a football, tight in his white overall, looked me up and down.
    â€˜Another bloody student,’ he mouthed. ‘I hope you last longer than the last one. He nearly fell in the bloody dough and was baked with the bread.’ He held up a hand. Two of the fingers were missing. ‘And be bloody careful if you’re on the slicers,’ he said.
    I learnt a great deal about life, work and human nature in that bread factory.
    I learnt about getting up before it was light and catching the early bus, enduring the hot dry and noisy atmosphere of a factory, about boredom and monotony and weariness and sheer hard work. I also learnt to be wary of my fellow workers.
    Chuck, aided and abetted by some old hands, took delight in playing tricks on the students. I guess it was because a life baking bread, after the initial fascination, became incredibly tedious and predictable, and these clever ruses lightened the