No particular place to go
Fate brought young reporter JP (Paul Jean) Creton (MA 1970) to St Andrews and saw him leave life in the city of jute, jam and journalism for a career in academia. Along the way, he played Kate in the first and last Kate Kennedy Procession to be held in both St Andrews and Dundee, set up his own ‘cinema’ in the Buchanan Lecture Theatre, and made friendships that have lasted a lifetime.
“Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans,” wrote journalist Allen Saunders in 1957.
To me, that happened on 12 August 1966 when I was persuaded to attend the University of St Andrews, never having been to the town before. That day changed my life.
Let’s go back three years.
Having left Harris Academy in Dundee with half a dozen Highers, I was fortunate to be taken on by D.C. Thomson and trained as a reporter on The Courier and the Evening Telegraph (The Tele).
The training was tough, but I revelled in the life of a reporter; a Press Card can get you anywhere, including interviewing The Beatles, and The Rolling Stones in a hysterical Caird Hall. We were just ‘kids’ who had no idea where life was taking us. Reporting ranged from fun to tragedies. Those years gave me confidence. An irresistible reporter never takes ‘no’ for an answer.
When fate came knocking
Friday 12 August 1966 at 10am. The Chief Reporter of The Courier asked: “Anyone want to go to St Andrews? The University. They’ve got a new Chancellor.”
“I’ll take it,” I sighed. “I’ve nothing on hand till this evening.”
The ‘Chancellor’ turned out to be John Steven Watson, the new Principal and Vice-Chancellor of the University of St Andrews. He was a thoroughly nice guy, easy to interview. Over tea and scones, he asked about me. I had time to kill and thought ‘why not?’.
Long story short, he asked why a young man like me wasn’t at university: “Have you got any Highers? You’ll get four years free, plus a maintenance grant. Residence is free, too (Sallies). I’ll do the paperwork. You can have a week to decide whether or not to join St Andrews.”
To this day I don’t understand why I said ‘yes’. I got back to the office, announced I’d be leaving at the end of August, went home and asked my mum who said: “Well, if that’ll make you happy, it’s your life.”
On 18 August 1966, I wrote my last article for D.C Thomson: the opening of the Tay Road Bridge… and the road to St Andrews. Fate was waiting for me.
Surprise, surprise
In Sallies I shared a room with a lad apparently because we both had French surnames. He was from Eton; I’m from Lochee, in the west of Dundee. For a while we had difficulty understanding what the other was saying. We become life-long friends. Many of us did; it’s the magic of St Andrews.
On the first day of Freshers’ Week, I was strolling down North Street, when I thought to myself, “It can’t be,” but it was: Kay Elder! We’d been close friends in Dundee – we loved rock ‘n rolling in the Tay Palais on a Saturday night. Who’d have guessed we’d meet again in red gowns?
Our friendship has lasted a life-time and I’m so proud what Kay has done for so many, becoming a member of the pioneering team responsible for the birth of the first ‘test tube baby’. You can read her story here: Kay (Catherine) Elder (BSc Hons 1970).
Freedom!
Having four years, I used the first two to explore a variety of areas beyond studies. I directed and staged Waiting for Godot in the Buchanan Lecture Theatre, managing to fall off the stage, clamber back and continue my speech as Lucky to rousing cheers.
I organised my own ‘cinema’ in the Buchanan, renting movies from London that packed the seats. All went well until the St Andrews Film Society complained and I was closed down. Fair enough; they’d been founded in October 1935.
Of course, the highlight was my anointment as Kate Kennedy in April 1967. I may have been honoured as this was the first and last time the procession would be held in Dundee as well as in St Andrews – Dundee becoming an independent university under Royal Charter that year. It may have been fitting to choose a laddie from the jute mills of Lochee.
I was held incognito in St Salvator’s Quadrangle until the procession entered North Street on a glorious afternoon that ended with a glorious dinner in St Mary’s College. The main speakers were the new Rector Sir John Rothenstein, me, and a representative from Harris Academy.
Within a week or so, I produced College Echoes as never seen before, inveigled D.C Thomson to print copies free of charge, hired a bus, and sold them from St Andrews to Perth via Dundee. We explained we were raising funds for local charities. I’m delighted that after nearly 60 years I am a member of the Kate Kennedy Life Members Association.
On 6 June 1968, I received a lengthy letter from Sir Laurence Olivier, newly director of the National Theatre. It begins: “Thank you so much for your very kind and friendly invitation to speak to the members of the Kate Kennedy Club of St Andrews. I am enormously touched by the warmth of your invitation and so very disappointed that my present appointment makes it impossible for me to accept invitations as I never know, with any degree of certainty exactly when I shall be free.” And concludes: “I hope you will forgive me.”
I have the letter framed as a souvenir and display it to this day.
Not vacation – vocation
Perhaps it isn’t fate. Whatever it is, it was waiting around the corner for me. My MA was crammed with subjects that I could specialise in journalism post-graduation. However, I grabbed another ‘freebie’ – a PGCE (Postgraduate Certificate in Education) at Bretton Hall College of Education near Wakefield, then the most avant-garde college in the UK. I chose Drama with English. St Andrews had taught me so much.
There was little academic work. We were thrown into the deep end – secondary schools – to sink or swim. It took me a few weeks to realise the word wasn’t ‘fate’ – the magic word for me was and is ‘vocation’.
Before settling down, I hitchhiked Route 66 and the Pacific Highway to spend the summer with Paul Mondschein, a much-loved friend from the US and part of our motley crew in St Andrews.
It was time to settle down but I’d caught the travel bug and set about teaching in universities, colleges, secondary and junior schools. I did so in Geneva, Istanbul (ten years including the military coup d’etat of 1980), at the University of Barcelona, the British School of San Remo, and other institutions.
In 1990, passing through Canterbury, a grammar school headmaster, asked if I could spare a year or two to help them out with Psychology, Sociology and Law. Yet again St Andrews gave me the range of subjects I could offer. The ‘two’ years rolled on for 20 years. Until retirement at last! Nope. Ten more years in a junior school in an area that has now been home for 30 years. It was the ideal place to set up our family.
During this time, I’ve written more than 20 academic books. I notice Waterstones still feature 15 of them but add ‘This product is currently unavailable’. Amusing!
Home again
Lots of different nationalities and backgrounds arrive at St Andrews, but we all leave with the same identity: we become St Andreans for life. We may not see our friends for many years, but when we meet, the memories and the smiles flood in. And any time we visit St Andrews, we know we’re coming home.