13/04/2020
The rebirth of Redhill School took place between 1941 and 1948 in Parkview.
The Rebirth:
By the time Catherine Hill took over St Winifred’s, the school was badly in need of fresh blood at the top and a renewal of all that Mrs Burton-Hall had built up. The building in Parkview, while adequate for its needs, was painted a dark brown and had a dingy and ill-kept look. Likewise, the dark brown uniforms with green trim and the brown blazers with green braid and a green badge on the pocket were old-fashioned
and uninspiring. The whole atmosphere was one of gentle decay and gloom. According to Catherine Hill it was “a rather sad old place.” Money was in short supply, a perennial
factor in the history of the school. The financial situation was
made worse by the burdens of war. Everywhere the government was cutting back on its spending to fund the
war effort. For example, during the war years the government stopped building houses for black people in the cities. This precipitated the chronic urban housing shortage that continues to this day. The financial burdens would have a major role to play in the coming years but, for now, Catherine Hill set about the rejuvenation of the school with the The new, young, inexperienced but enthusiastic Headmistress wasted
no time in revitalizing and modernizing the school. Apart from a coat of paint one of the first changes was the name. From the rather staid and old-fashioned “St Winifred’s School for Girls” it became “Redhill School”, reflecting the vibrant colour
of the new uniforms and the name of Catherine Hill. The Headmistress and the prefects chose the name together
and the “Redhill Family” was born. New uniforms were designed and approved by pupils and parents and were considered very modern at the time. Red-and-white spotted
blouses and grey knee length pinafore dresses with flared skirts were crowned by a “boater” with a red band. The girls also wore smart grey blazers sporting the new crest of a
builder’s trowel and eagle’s wings, depicting the new “Free to Build” motto, on the pocket. This crest and the motto were conceived by Catherine Hill and the girls and were
executed by a silversmith from Denmark, the father of Catherine Jobst, a pupil. Grey shorts and blouses were
worn for sports and were the envy of many other schools who played the very proficient netball team. At one tennis match against a local convent, the nuns were quite disgusted with
what they considered to be informal uniforms that showed bare legs. One pupil, Etta Joffe, remembers that the
match was cancelled as a result. The ‘new’ school had a total of 68 pupils, 34 in each of the junior and high schools, and received a subsidy of £79.19s.10d from the Province.
Gradually, with wonderful support from the Director, Mr L Guittard, staff, parents and pupils, the new Redhill in Parkview prospered and the number of pupils rose to 129. That year the school won both the Inter-Schools’ Netball League and Tournament. This was a major achievement for a school as small as Redhill. One ex-pupil remembers that, during the Inter-Schools’ swimming gala, the entire school took up
the space used by just one of the other schools’ swimming teams. Small classes also made close monitoring of the pupils possible and this resulted in good academic performance.
However, Catherine Hill’s recipe for success was embodied in just one of the school rules she inspired – “Do your best to make others happy.” The warm and caring attitude that
have been two of the enduring elements of Redhill School’s ethos were thus firmly established under the new eadmistress.
Madeleine Ashburg, who arrived as a seven-year-old boarder and was to become Headgirl in 1953, also remembers the intimate warmth of the school and the boarding establishment
in particular. She recalls that while the Headmistress was a
strict disciplinarian, she was also warm, caring and fun, making the school days of so many girls among the happiest of their lives. Jill Yeatman remembers how she came to
Redhill in Parkview: “After visiting most of the independent schools in Johannesburg and interviewing a number of starchy headmistresses, my parents and I arrived at Redhill.
As we walked in the front door, I looked up and saw a little girl with a feather duster pretending to sweep cobwebs off the ceiling. It was the only school where I had seen anyone
who seemed to be enjoying herself and who appeared to be relaxed in the face of authority. Then a very pretty, dimpled girl in tennis clothes invited us into her study. After making
slightly puzzled polite conversation, my father realized that he was speaking to the Headmistress, Mrs Catherine Hill, and not one of her pupils.” On another occasion, the Standard 11 girls, whose classroom was next door to the Headmistress’s office,
were playing a noisy game of ‘Blind Man’s Bluff’ when Catherine Hill entered the room at the same time as a blindfolded pupil, Leslie Brand. Oblivious to the stunned silence that now enveloped the room, Leslie Brand proceeded to pat Catherine Hill’s face and hair in an effort to identify her. Gillian Guittard felt that while “most of our school days were
spent with our noses in books… the enrichment that stemmed from those days came from so much else”. Pam Goudvis recalled that she was “a naughty daredevil sort of child” who
one evening sneaked out of the dormitory by “climbing out of the dormitory window onto the high-pitched roof of the hall, and sliding down it, catching the open window just before
reaching the gutter”. Catherine Hill no doubt heard about this escapade and so the following night she “strode (Mrs Hill never just walked) into the junior dormitory and formed
the ‘Spider Monkey Club’. The curtains were pushed back from the cubicle railings, and we swung from them, hung upside down, did gymnastics till we dropped, it was great”.
This was a typical response from the young headmistress who, with the wisdom of a true educationist, had found a way to channel potentially negative behaviour into something
that was positive and memorable for the students. It was under Catherine Hill that Redhill began to walk the tightrope of
challenging the segregated norms of the day by admitting Chinese students into the school. Dora Kamson recalled that she came to Redhill because there were no other schools
around at the time that were prepared to enroll Chinese students. She remembered one occasion when the girls had gone down to the public swimming pool to train. As she made ready for the next training session, she was called aside by one of the teachers and was asked to stay behind. “At the time I did not understand why and it was only later that I realized that there had been complaints from people at the public
pool”. While there were clear limits to what could be achieved by the school in those days, it was clear that Catherine Hill’s approach was perhaps more progressive than that of most schools in Johannesburg. In addition to classes ranging from
Grade 1 to Matric, there were a range of extra-curricular activities such as dancing, music, elocution and horse riding. Gillian Guittard recalled how the music teacher, Miss
Bennett, changed the words of “Ivor Novello’s song We’ll Gather Lilacs… believing it improper for young ladies to sing ‘I’ll hold you close’. We were instructed to sing ‘I’ll hold
your hand’ instead”. During the war years other problems emerged. Irene Shear remembered that there was a
shortage of male partners for the girls at the forthcoming school dance and so “one of our pupils, Fiona Wilson,
whose father was Colonel Elliot Wilson, arranged for a planeload of airmen to fly up from his base to act as
partners”. Former pupil Pam Goudvis recalls: “We began riding with Mr Hadley and Arthur Moreton in the southern suburbs; catching a tram to town, then one to Turfontein Terminus, to be met there with the horses.We used to ride through the gum plantations on the mine properties, around the slimes dams and across country. Some wonderful holidays
were spent at riding camps run at the Hadley Yard, grooming, cleaning tack, riding ba****ck to swim the horses in the dam.”
Towards the end of 1941, when many young mothers went out to work as their contribution to the war effort, parents asked whether the school could run a nursery school. With her usual confidence and ingenuity Catherine Hill opened a nursery school, which was accommodated in two rooms and the garden of her own home in Kinross Road, behind the school. A qualified nursery school teacher was employed and she started the school with four pupils. Tables and chairs and all necessary outdoor play and developmental equipment, in accordance with Education Department requirements, were procured and soon the Nursery School, inspected
and approved by the Department, was in great demand. Catherine Hill was always proud of the fact that the
Nursery School was the first private nursery school that was up to government standards. The numbers rose rapidly to about forty, many of whom rose up through the grades as
the years went by. Despite the success of the school
under Catherine Hill’s leadership, financial difficulties continued. The school built up debts that it found
hard to repay. Redhill’s financial situation prevented the school from participating, as many other schools were doing, in fundraising activities to support the war effort. In 1945
the financial difficulties came to a head and a major crisis threatened the school. Mr G Burton-Hall, who had taken over the ownership of the property from Mrs Burton-Hall upon
her death, sold the school building and the adjoining stands to Mr Elias Bertolis. It appears that he was forced to do so by the bank in order to raise the money to pay off the school’s debts. As a representative of the Hellenic community, Mr Bertolis
informed the school that the community wished to use the property for its own purposes. This came as a nasty shock to the young headmistress as she had been unaware that the property had been sold. If Redhill was to continue, drastic measures were required.