Clarification with Reference To Previous Post

My previous post included a prose piece inspired by my 70th birthday, written by my son. Thus, giving validity to the Latin tag: 'Chippus Blockus Maximumus.' My Latin, of course, was perfected during my five-year sentence at Tipton Secondary Modern, the premier scholastic institution of the fair town of Tipton. My Alma Mata, educated Tipton's most illustrious citizens and inmates. This includes Lugless Dougless, he of truncated pinna fame, ferret tamer to the stars and protagonist in a previous post entitled, 'The Ballard of Lugless Dougless'. Also, the esteemed Prof. Ipod Mugumbo, PhD (failed), spent his informative years ensconced in the notorious Remedial Class. As you will no doubt recall, the Prof is famed as being the only pigmented albino in existence.

Mention of my old school brings me neatly to the heart of today's blog. I have had various emails from folk requesting clarification regarding my son's not-so-cryptic allusion to a Historical Thermal Application to a scholastic establishment in his prose piece published in my previous post. Several years ago, I posted regarding a very unfortunate event that occurred in 1972. Sadly, my old school was engulfed in a conflagration just a week after my graduation. Arson was suspected, however, although a thorough investigation was undertaken by Inspector Mugumbo of the 'Burny Stuff Squad', the miscreant (for it is he) was never brought to justice. I'm not sure whether there is a statute of limitations for this form of criminal activity. After 54 years, I suspect the perpetrator is long gone from the area. 

For the purpose of elucidation and edification of my readers who are recent followers of the blog, I have decided to reprise the post in its entirety. Mayhap, it could bestir the memory of some old codger who was in the Tipton area at the time. A new lead might materialise, and consequently, a 'Cold Case Review' might be undertaken. Unfortunately, Inspector Mugumbo is no longer with us. Not long after the event to be described, the Inspector was burnt to death during his demonstration of a practical fire safety protocol.

So, after this rather protracted introduction, here is the post.      

 

It was a shit school- but burnt well

I was rummaging through some old documents the other day when I found this newspaper clipping betwixt the pages of an old book, entitled: 'The Art of the Incendiary'. The news article concerned the tragic conflagration which engulfed my Alma Mater the day after I graduated.

The police came knocking on my door a few days later with all sorts of questions. And of course I had an alibi. On the morn of the fire I was in the company of fellow ex Tipton school pupil, Sally Ault. As I distinctly recall we were involved in extra curricula activities in my unkempt bedroom. Sally's testimony, bless her heart, was unshakable and remarkably consistent. 

The evidence against me was circumstantial at best. And just because I'd had my shoulder length blond locks sheared on the afternoon of the incident proved nothing. The Inspector was unrelenting in his questioning and hung in there like a ferret clinging to a rabbit's neck. Confess, confess! Tis true the suspicious youth seen hanging about at the time matched my description exactly, as several witnesses were willing to attest, but I'm a great believer in doppelgangers and parallel universes and such. Wisely the witnesses had an epiphany and recanted. On second thoughts the youth's hair looked more mousy brown than golden hued. This ruled me out in a thrice. No way it could be me as I had just washed my golden locks which bedazzled in the sun and bathed the scene in an ethereal glow as if a cleansing H bomb had gone off in Tipton High Street. Here is a gratuitous tip: never use cheap shampoo or conditioner- false economy and I should know. Have I digressed? Anyway, without witnesses or a confession the poor Inspector was bereft of a conviction. No court in the land would have convicted on the evidence to hand and rightly so. It is better for ten guilty men to go free than one innocent man to be unjustly convicted. Isn't our justice system wonderful? The arsonistically (not a real word) inclined miscreant was never caught and probably lurks unrepentant within our very midst waiting for an opportunity to assuage a hunger which never abates.     

Is there a statute of limitation on this sort of thing? I suspect after 44 years it would be very difficult to identify the perpetrator and gain a conviction. Best to let it go then, eh Inspector?



 

Sally on the day of our graduation- I wonder what she is doing now?