Here's a piece from 1979. I too remember Frank Lewis, standing outside the main entrance to the Victoria College building, ringing his bell early morning as a call to go for registration. In those days, during summer holidays, parents with children at College, could take their children (and any siblings whether at College or elsewhere) and sometimes use the swimming pool at College. This was all kept under control beneath the eagle eye of Mr Lewis, and the cost was several large packets of cigarettes! One other fact: when the gargoyles, which had long worn out, on the top of the main College building were replaced, if I remember Frank was featured as the inspiration for one!
The Victorian, 1979: Francis Edward Lewis, BEM retires
By Brian Clarke
When Frank Lewis was awarded the British Empire ‘Medal in the New Year Honours List in 1975, he remarked in typical fashion, “I don’t know why they had to give me this; I’ve only done what was expected of me” However. many of us know that he wears his ribbon on his uniform with pride, for in his estimation, the award brought honour to Victoria College and not to him.
F. E. Lewis was appointed College Porter in December 1942, replacing F. R. Crumpton who had served since 1905. His early years were difficult ones. The effect of the war on the life and work of the College had made its mark, and the Porter had to be resourceful to meet the daily needs of the school with ever dwindling supplies. I have heard him referred to as a jackdaw, and I am convinced that those years taught him to store away anything remotely useful.
On May 9th, 1945, together with R. J. Nicolle, he hoisted the victory flags on the towers of the College. A new period in the history of Victoria College was about to begin. The Acting Headmaster, Pat Tatam, retired, and Frank Lewis was ready to serve two Headmasters and three decades of Victorians. During that time he has given unstintingly of himself, well beyond the normal call of duty, and his loyalty and devotion have made a lasting impression on staff and boys alike. The old boys may have difficulty in recalling the name of their French master in Year 3, but they all remember the little man who chased them up the stairs to Assembly.
I first recollect seeing him pacing the terrace and ringing the school bell. One glare from him was enough to produce a final spurt from me to be in prayers before the bell stopped ringing. How glad I was, when I did arrive late, to have the cast-iron excuse of having come by bus from the far west of the Island. Yet, beneath the stern exterior, he concealed a care and concern for each one of us, knowing us all by name, fully aware of our special abilities in the classroom or on the sports field, and always the first to know of our misdemeanours.
How convincingly he conveyed his sense of disappointment when we were in “Book”; how shamed we were to have let down our parents, the Headmaster, the College — and him!
As a boy, I remember that Frank Lewis was always everywhere. He found time to do everything and never missed a conceit or a football match, a prefects’ dance or a terminal service. And he invariably arrived first when there was a riot in a classroom. There are many members of staff who have reason to be grateful to him for restoring law and order while they drank their second cup of coffee after the break-time bell had rung.
However, it is during the latter years that I have discovered how much there is to Frank Lewis. He welcomed me warmly when I returned to the Island and joined the staff, but soon made me feel guilty if I did something he did not approve of. In fact, he has frightened most of my colleagues at some time or other, and has never failed to be critical of attitudes or methods which ran counter to the good traditions of Victoria College.
Nevertheless, to us all, he has proved to be an ever willing helper, and there can be no job in the College that he has not undertaken himself. He is equally happy stoking a boiler or arranging flowers, clearing out drains or building stage scenery, judging a diving competition or welcoming guests to the school.
He recalls many of the distinguished visitors to whom he has been presented, and amongst them are Her Majesty the Queen, His Royal Highness the Prince Philip, Her Royal Highness the Princess Anne and the late Lord Mountbatten of Burma. The College has provided him with a store of memories, but it is the many friends which he has made which he values most.
As one accompanies him in St. Helier, one soon discovers that he knows and is respected by people from every walk in life.
We shall miss him when he retires as Head Porter this term. I believe he will miss us. The main consolation is that he will continue in part-time employment as night porter, and retain a very real contact with boys, staff, parents and OVs. In days to come, I like to think that I may be able to creep into College on my way back from C.C.F. Camp at 6.15 am. without being discovered and told “What do you think you’re doing here at this hour of the day?” Perhaps I may be able to work in my study rather later than usual without being pointedly asked, “Haven’t you got a wife and children to go home to?”
However, I doubt if I shall be allowed to do even this, for Frank will certainly continue to keep a fatherly eye on the College and its inhabitants, and little will take place without his knowledge.
His contribution to the history of Victoria College in the past 37 years is unique. He has given his life to the College, and it is gratifying to know that the Education Committee, the Governors and the Headmaster have recognised this and given him the opportunity to stay on indefinitely in Cricket Field Cottage. I hope that he will enjoy many more happy years with us. ‘
B.H.V.
Postscript:
Kurt Ludwigs
I met Frank Lewis in my year as a German Assistant from September 1977 to July 1978. I remember him as a very polite person who always welcomed me with the words: "Guten Tag, mein Herr." In that year I had the privilege of accompanying Dixie Landick with some Evening Classes in Victoria College, and Frank Lewis always turned up before and after the classes - to have a quiet smoke with Dixie and me and to share one of Dixie's numerous stories. Dixie and Frank Lewis got on very well, in a way they seemed to represent the spirit of the college. When I left in July 1978 I was fully aware of the fact that I had met a truly well-respected man in Frank Lewis.
Clive: remember the conundrum what is the difference between a weasel and a stoat? Answer a weasel is weaselly recognized while a stoat is stoatly different! Frank was a lovely man and so proud to be part of College history
Alistair: He was also a very good high board diver. An excellent coach to me when I dived and swam for the college team 69/70
Anthony: He caught us running round the back during the school photo , to see if we could get on it twice One step ahead of us !
David: Sometime in 1965, he came into one of the classrooms in the new De Carteret building with a message for Colonel Fearon. Three boys made fun of his new cap as he left the room. A couple of hours later, two of them,plus me, were summoned to Ronnie Postill’s office and received four strokes of the cane each from a furious headmaster. The next day, Frank Lewis spoke to me and apologised for the case of mistaken identity, caused by the master confusing me with another pupil. He was a very honest man.
Matt: Was terrifying being told to get your hands out of your pockets by him. He was probably in his 80s then. Used to open the school pool for my gran so she and my mum and I could go swimming on hot summer days.
George: He was at The Home for Boys as Haut de la Garrene was known at the time. He used to keep his motor scooter under the arch when it was raining.
Russell: He was very good to me. Rarely had to do any studying in "book" he would always find something for me to do and then let me off an hour early. Top man.
Bill: Frank got a bit bored after he retired and would often stop for a chat and a cup of tea at our shop at 43 Halkett Place. We had a busy racket stringing business operating from a dusty ghetto at the back of the premises and Frank quickly showed an interest in helping out. We formalised an arrangement whereby he would turn up at 10a.m. every morning and do racket repairs.
Oh how we roasted him when he was late and how he chuckled when we did. He complained that it took him 5 minutes to come down from Weasel Cottage as far as Grosvenor Street but another hour to complete the journey to Halkett Place, stopping every ten yards to converse with a spectrum of old boys .....from Bailiff to bottle washer, he had time for all.
I stood on the corner of Queen Street to witness his journey home one afternoon and, sure enough, his familiar blue suited frame zig zagged and stopped every few yards to respond to someone hailing him from amongst a crowd of shoppers.
His time with us in the shop was peppered with stories of past pupils doing stuff they should not have done. Eventually ill health overcame him and we saw him less and less. A great servant to the school and a kind man.
I miss you, good friend.
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