Lewis O’Brien

I started at the Le Fevre Boys Technical School in 1944, two years after it had opened. My mother had taken me to the office to meet the principal, Mr Fred Vickery. He told me about the school, and that whatever I did, one thing I needed to do was go to third year, as that was the foundation that was needed to build onto for an education. This advice I have found to be very sound, because as he had pointed out, you could learn other things later, if needed, but you could build on the foundation of the three years of technical schooling.

The other thing he did was something that allowed me, as well as a lot of other poor students to go to secondary school. The government allowed each student three pounds (£3); so the principal knew, to have students at school he needed to do some clever bookkeeping. What he did was let us have the books we needed on loan, and each year we returned them, for the next year’s pupils – a rather clever plan – which was appreciated by most students. Without this method we would not have been able to have remained at school.

In my second year at the tech school I shifted to North Adelaide and used to commute to Le Fevre. This proved to be a rather interesting move as it brought about an interesting innovation regarding home work. Three of us students used to meet on the train, talk about home work, then go to class at about 8.30 am to complete our set work. With the information we had shared on the train journey, it became easier.

The other students noted that we were gaining higher marks, and enquired how we so-called ‘dills’ could do better than them. We then explained to them our method and as one they all asked if they could join our circle, and we agreed to accommodate them.

One morning as we all sat in class at 8.30 am the headmaster walked in, went to the blackboard and started to clean the board. We all lifted our heads to watch him. As he cleaned the board he suddenly stopped, contemplated for a moment and gathered his thoughts; and surmised that he had seen students sitting in the class. He turned abruptly and told every student to get out, as they had no right to be there, and certainly not to be doing home work. Thirty-eight of us trooped out.

The principal came back to see us all at about 3 pm later that day. He said that he had viewed all our home work, found we had not been cheating as he had first thought and to carry on with what we were doing. We all sighed with relief and were pleased we could continue on with the dreaded home work, with our proven method.

After completing my third year, and as they called it then, the Intermediate year – as advised a minimum requirement – I decided to get a job and leave school. I went to see the vocational officer at the school. He asked me to fill out a form that had a list of occupations on it, but to his dismay I ticked most. ‘This doesn’t help me at all,’ he told me and then said, ‘The only thing for you to do O’Brien is sit for the Railways exam.’

So off I went to the city and sat in Bonython Hall with about 400 other students, to sit the exam. From the 400 they chose about a 100 for an interview to become a tradesman. About 68 would get an apprenticeship and I became one of those lucky ones to get a position, mine was as a fitter and machinist. That was in 1947.

The top spot as I remember was a pattern-maker, then electrician, motor mechanic, fitter, carpenter, boilermaker, welder, blacksmith, painter and so on. Some lads with their Leaving cracked up when they were offered, say a boilermaker’s job as some lads with grade seven got jobs as fitters. But it was based on mechanical knowledge, which you had or didn’t have. It was interesting to see the results and reactions, as the tests were not based solely on academic knowledge.

The only regret of my schooling days was not to have in my possession the little red book. It spelled out each year of study and what you needed to accomplish in each of those years.

During my schooling years there was a debate as to the value of technical education, as most employers said they wanted high school education for their employees, as it was deemed to be better.

Fred Vickery sent seven students from the school at that time to the PEB exams, and they all came back with credits in all subjects. It proved to all students at the time that there was no difference.

With all that knowledge, some years later, I tutored the lad next door. He failed his exam at Norwood Technical School. He asked me what was he to do now. I told him his only course was to sit for the PEB. He then enquired of me if it wasn’t harder. I told him it was not, not only that, the percentages were better. He went on to pass the PEB and ended up as a principal in the Education Department.

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