Blasts from the Past: Johnny Rosser

More alumni than I can recall have mentioned Johnny Rosser. Do I know about him, his former pupils ask. He was, by all accounts, a great man. Curious to know more, I started searching for traces of him in the archive. I was genuinely moved by what I discovered: a teacher who could hold the full attention of a class, who commanded respect, but who also allowed for humour and levity. A teacher who shared his love of cricket and rugby with those he coached. A teacher who was efficient and prepared. A teacher who cared as much about those who struggled with a subject as those who excelled. Rare gifts indeed.

John Rosser was born in 1918. After St John’s School, Leatherhead, in 1937 he went up to St Edmund’s Hall, Oxford. The son of a clergyman, he too thought he would go into the Church. War intervened. John served with the Royal Tank Regiment and was awarded his degree ‘in absentia’. When he joined the junior school at King’s in 1946, he was one of the younger members of staff and taught a range of subjects. He went on to became head of Geography and then housemaster of Tudor before being made deputy headmaster by Peter Gibbs in the mid-1960s. The two men had a solid friendship by this time, forged in part on cricket fields and rugby pitches where together they coached successive generations of teams often, if not always, to great success. (Does anyone remember when John Rosser’s enthusiasm caused him to walk onto the pitch during an especially foggy game against Dragons School?)

In the years after the Second World War, King’s was in a state of recovery. The buildings were pretty shabby. Many of the teaching staff were coming to terms with the effects of active service. John Rosser was among those who were said to have had ‘a good war.’ Even so, the experience must have left its mark. ‘Life is rough, tough and terribly unjust,’ he would tell pupils. On a lighter note, he would use his wartime service revolver, with blanks, to start athletics races (this stopped when a police constable intervened!). And he certainly was not dour. His teaching style sounds both inspiring and inspired. ‘I'll never forget him,’ one former pupil said, ‘he'd got a football and put a couple of pencils in either side of the football and he was explaining to us how the Earth's axis moved around the sun and this is why we had seasons. It was the first time I'd ever had that kind of lesson and it was really, really enlightening.’

‘I can say unequivocally that Mr Rosser, or “Johnny” as we called him with his (only slightly limited) approval, was the best teacher I ever had. I was lucky enough to be taught geography by him for all my five years in the Junior School from 1960 to 1965. His style was unforgettable. The first 5 minutes of every lesson, we would be treated to hilarious clowning until he had us in the palm of his hand. Then his hands would suddenly clap together and he would say “OK. That’s the fun over boys, now down to work”. And for the next 45 minutes you could have heard a pin drop. He made the subject absolutely fascinating, whether he was talking about the causes of relief rainfall, wheat growing on the Prairies or gold-mining in Australia.’ Neil Price (OK 1969) writing in the July 2011 Old King’s Club Newsletter.

He even brought is own spin to discipline, referring to detention as ‘Johnny's Tea Party.’ As an alumnus explained to me: ‘he used to have what was called Johnny's Tea Party. And if you messed about in his class, he put your name up on the board, three strikes, and you were in detention with him. And it was light hearted, but it worked.’ 

John Rosser retired in the summer of 1983. At prize-giving that year the junior school headmaster, Colin Holloway, paid tribute to him: ‘For over 37 years his integrity, professionalism and conviction of responsibility has shone out and others have basked in [that] sunshine. Whether as Junior Master, master in charge of games, head of subject, housemaster or Second Master, he had filled each part with friendly grace towards people and fastidious care towards their welfare.’ There were more expressions of thanks in the pages of Cabbages and Kings–Peter Gibbs, David Morgan (OK 1952), Roger Mathews (OK 1956) and Cavan Taylor (OK 1953), then chairman of the governors, all shared their experiences of a remarkable man. It seems fitting to end with some of Cavan’s words, which encapsulate the thoughts of many:

‘I find it very difficult indeed to visualise the Junior School without John Rosser's smiling face and bustling figure being somewhere in the vicinity. Our friendship goes back more than 30 years; to the time when he taught me Geography and Latin, supervised me on the games field and put me in detention (wasn't it called "Johnny's tea-party"?) for some long forgotten misdemeanor. He has a remarkable knack of being able to engage in cheerful banter with the boys (I recall he offered to trade that detention for an apple in my packed lunch) without forfeiting respect or losing any of his natural authority. More recently, I have seen him at the Junior School prize-givings in Merton Town Hall; as he climbs on to the stage and raises a hand for silence, 300 tongues stop waggling and 600 shuffling feet are still. His influence on the lives of those who passed through the Junior School was enormous.’

What are your memories of King’s? Is there an aspect of the school’s history about which you would like to know more? As ever, if you have stories to share, or questions to ask, please contact me at archive@kcs.org.uk.

Dr Lucy Inglis
School Archivist