Campbell Dinner

I had the most enjoyable evening last night. An old pal, NCS, picked me up at Belmont GHQ and took me the short distance to that venerable academic institution, Campbell College.

There were a couple of stinkers at Campbell during my time, though thankfully they weren't there last night.

It was such a glorious evening that some of the former staff and guests were standing in the quadrangle, drinking Pimm's.

I leapt out of NCJ's car and joined Keith and a few others.

The refreshing glass of Pimm's was duly collected at a side table.

A waiter offered delicious little canapés from a large tray.

It was truly a pleasure to meet my friend and teacher, Johnny Knox.

Johnny - Mr Knox as I knew him when I was a pupil - and his wife chatted with me in the warm sunshine.

After a while we all moved in to the Dining Hall.

Keith introduced me to the Headmaster, Robert Robinson MBE BSc. I can recall apprising him that my Number was "SIX ONE TWO EIGHT".

My name was on a place-card and I sat opposite Keith.

Johnny and Mrs Knox sat within roll-throwing distance.

This was a formal dinner, of course, and the meal was first-rate.

The main course comprised perfectly cooked salmon.

I wish I'd taken a few photographs: my camera was in my pocket, though I was enjoying myself so much that I was oblivious to it.

Keith very kindly gave me a lift home.

OC Dinner

Last night I attended the Old Campbellians' annual dinner at the College.

Campbell College stands in about seventy acres, I imagine, off Belmont Road, Belfast.

My old pal Dangerfield (!) called me earlier in the day and offered to collect me.

A lively fire was blazing in the vestibule, where we met the President of the society, Bill McKelvey.

Having relieved myself of the overcoat, we made a beeline for the makeshift bar which was located in the central hall.

I rather enjoy these reunions, seeing old, familiar faces again.

I had a good chin-wag with Richard Sholdis, whose family once lived in the Mourne Mountains beside Spence's River.

I reminisced about my uncle's cottage, the well in the moor behind it, how we obtained water with a metal pail; and when the Sholdises arrived, how they let us use their outside tap for fresh water.

The good old days!

I was pally with his younger brother, David.

Eventually we all trooped in to the dining-hall, a large chamber with a lofty, vaulted ceiling.

Needless to say, the grub was good; the company, convivial.

Our guest speaker was Sir Ronnie Flanagan, GBE, QPM, Chief Constable of the Royal Ulster Constabulary from 1996 until its demise in 2001.

I met Sir Ronnie earlier in the evening and recounted an anecdote about Sir John Hermon, OBE, QPM, a predecessor of his in the RUC.

As a matter of fact, as a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the British Empire (GBE), Sir Ronnie is the third most highly decorated person in Northern Ireland, afte the Duke of Abercorn, KG, and the Right Rev the Lord Eames, OM.