The sister in 1921 was advised that after that date her services, as they had been, might not be required, and she left shortly after the San was erected. There were one or two different people in charge for the first few years - one, Sister Hall, died suddenly of heart failure on November 30th, 1923 in the Sanatorium. From 1928 onwards it was presided over by Sister Wallace. She undertook all the nursing of sick children apart from those who had complaints requiring an operation or isolation hospitals.

Because children came to school at a very much earlier age than they do now, it was a very onerous task. During the 1940's and early fifties, the San often held 28 children suffering from mumps, measles, chicken-pox etc. The San was divided into a "boys' end" on the south side, and a "girls' end" to the north, with the kitchen and sister's room in the middle The two small rooms at either end were for staff. Next to these were the day rooms which could hold. up to twelve beds of convalescing children. The rest of the rooms each had two beds in them.

The only way one got into the san was by an abnormal reading on a thermometer, or spots, but once one had made it and evaded the "sick room" in school which was for minor ailments one was cared for with wonderful devotion.

It was warm and homely in comparison with the school buildings, there were plenty of books to read, records to play, and jigsaws and games when one was feeling better. The food always seemed better in the San, but in actual fact it had no cooking facilities, so, apart from breakfast and hot drinks, it was in reality no different. The kitchen had an old coal range. There was only one resident maid as well as the Sister, and her day started at 6.30 a.m. when she blackleaded the range, lit it, and boiled the water. School visitors often stayed in the San, and her early morning duties included heating water for washing, and getting their breakfasts ready.

Sister Wallace had a hard life. She was on almost permanent call, and also helped with the school mending. I can remember her wandering about the creaking building at midnight, checking the condition of the sick, with a large woolly sock she was mending in her hand.  It says much for her care and devotion, and that of the medical staff of the time, that only one boy and one visitor died during her years of service. It must be remembered that this was before the days of penicillin and infant injections, and the standard remedies were rhubarb, kaolin, and painting of one's throat if it were sore.

The visitor died quite unexpectedly after giving a lecture on Saturday evening, and was presumably "dead from natural causes." The boy, who was called Jake Kirk, died when he was about 14. He had polio as a child, limped, and had a withered arm. It is this boy we have to thank for helping to lay out the school grounds as we see them today. He was unable to play games, and under the direction and vision of the then headmaster, helped to reconstruct the terrace area. He developed a cold. I can remember the Maths teacher teasing him for whispering instead of speaking in class, but a few days later, and despite devoted nursing, tragically, he died.

The 30s, 40s and 50s saw the San in full swing: scarlet-fever epidemics days when the sister had to swab every throat in school and send the swabs for analysis. There were furious 'flu epidemics when only the Biology master and a couple of other teachers remained on their feet. Sister organised the few remaining staff to do sick ward duties before school, and later in the day. They taught the few remaining children in between.

Gradually, the numbers using the San diminished. Serious epidemics, thanks to modern medicine, became a thing of the past. By the time Leven Hall opened, the San was used so infrequently as to be uneconomic. After all, it had to be manned day and night, heated and maintained, whether it had no patients or twenty. Some use of it was attempted by divorcing the First Form boys from the main buildings and allowing them to use a small portion of the San as their home, but even this proved to be boo expensive.

During the war, and for some years before, the land around the San had been cultivated by the boys under the supervision of Mr. Wallace, the General Science teacher. The activity was known as "plots". A great deal of food was produced through the groans, objections, and efforts of Ayton boys and supplemented our diet during those difficult days.

During the fifties the land was looked after by Old Scholar farmers in the area, out of their allegiance and  love to school. Mr. Coates, who for many years has been a shining example of perfect gardening, cultivated the "gasworks" end of the land. It became more and more apparent, however, that the sanatorium and its five acres were becoming a millstone round school's neck, and so the decision was made to sell.

Thank goodness that the reasons for the success of the San are no longer with us; medical progress has seen to that. I hope that future generations of Aytonians will enjoy their recuperations in the sick bay - so beautifully constructed and furbished, which has been made out of the west end of Richardson Hall - as much as we enjoyed our convalescence in the old Sanatorium.