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A recollection of memories by Andrew C. Bunce (Scarisbrick Hall School, 1969–1978)  Some friendships begin by accident. Others, it seems, are arranged by providence long before we understand their purpose. In September 1969, at the age of eight, I left behind a small village near Swindon—quiet, familiar, and populated by more sheep than schoolboys—and stepped into the vast, echoing world of Scarisbrick Hall. In a place where only a handful of children were my age, I had longed for a proper football match, for enough boys to field two full cricket teams. Boarding school felt less like exile and more...

A note for the reader: At the time described in this account, Scarisbrick Hall School was a boarding school. It welcomed pupils from all corners of the world and was home to generations of boarders before later becoming a day-only school.  1969 was when everything changed.  From 1967 I was one of the expatriate kids at Kamenza primary school, in Chililabombwe, Zambia, happily running around barefoot in my spare time, mixing and learning with all races and competing together with them on sports days. It was a wonderful life, but schooling there was almost non-existant beyond the age of 11 so the family began to look...