A treat chalked up to a great teacher

AT THE time, I was ten years old, so it must have been 1938, and I was at school in Tottenham in North London. Mr Corfe’s lessons were always fun and informative and we enjoyed them — he made us think. One day in the classroom, there was a notice pinned to the wall which simply said JOB 35. ‘Sir,’ I asked, ‘What does that mean?’ He explained there was a lot of unemployment in Scotland, so the government had ordered the building of what was to be the largest, fastest and most luxurious ocean liner the world had known. Warming to his theme, he said it would be fuelled by coal, but in the future, the fuel needed would be the size of a cup of tea. My ten-year-old brain couldn’t grasp this, so he said it was one of the most powerful sources of energy in the universe and was called nuclear fission, which he wrote in capitals on the blackboard. I can see it in my mind’s eye now, and his prediction has come true, as well all know. I later went through the London Blitz, was almost killed twice, spent four years in the Navy, formed a relationship, and started a business in 1960. In the late Seventies, I went alone on a trip to Los Angeles, to visit a couple with whom I had been close before they emigrated to the U.S. I am the godfather of their son, Simon. On arrival at Los Angeles airport, I was met by a smart chauffeur, who took me and my luggage to a stretch limousine. He then set off, but after a while I thought, having done this journey myself several times, he was going the wrong way. I mentioned this, but he told me he was not allowed to tell me where we were going. Thirty minutes later we drew up alongside Job 35 — the Queen Mary to you and me — which was moored in Long Beach, California. He took me and my bags on board, where my friends had booked me into the Churchill Suite as a treat. In bed that night, I wondered how many well-known people had also slept in that bed, and wished Mr Corfe could see me now — in Job 35! The following morning I was taken to meet the entire family. So thank you, Mr Corfe. You must be about 130 years old now, and I hope you are still teaching up in Heaven.

G. W. Janaway, Hove, East Sussex.