I think it was 1965, so I would have been 13 years old. It’s strange how some memories remain in the corners of your mind, others that would complete a desired picture are gone forever. We were invited to enjoy the hospitality of the Fathers of the Resurrection at their monastery in Mirfield. It was a short walk and we were greeted most warmly by them. A sort of inter-faith get-together. We were all way ahead of our time back in those days. Their long hooded robes tied at the waist with rope gave the Monks the look of a band of extras from the TV series Robin Hood. I was sure Richard Greene, or a few ghosts would be hiding within the grey walls of their imposing ‘castle’. A magical 16th Century feel to the whole setting and yes, just a wee bit scary.

The Monks performed a play for us ‘The Importance of being Earnest’. I must confess I hadn’t laughed so much since I’d been to the dentist. I don’t recall if we had ‘munchies’ during the play, I would have remembered that before Ernie. They were the friendliest of people. I had no idea what their worldly mission was, I still don’t. They are still there as far as I know so their cause continues. There was a return visit by them to our college some time later, must have been near Christmas as I remember a lot of carol-singing going on.

I don’t know why my brain has retained this event, I’m sure it must have it’s own reasons. I want it to remember names of guys I spoke with at certain times, about things that are important now. It keeps me locked out, allows me a glimpse of a blurred picture here and a fragment of conversation there. It’s like a game of ‘hide & seek’. The answers are behind some castle wall but I know they’re there. Maybe I’m still afraid of ghosts. Frank