If you have any comments, or indeed, anything to share why not get in touch?
My email address is;
Try to be nice, although if you spot a glarring mistake, or a small falsehood, I dont mind if you want to tell me, as it was a long time ago, and memories do fade!
My name is Ron barker. I was a pupil at Linton Camp from April1961 to June 1962 . I would say they were the best days of my school life. I have a lot of happy memories of those days, I was on Dorm 2 Back. Some of names of the boys I remember were David Scriven, the two Thomas brothers, John Hunt, John Smith, Geoffrey Pell who was my best friend, also his brother was there Dennis Pell, Jimmy Davie, the two King sisters and brother. Michael Calvert, John Koslaw, the two Utley sisters, and Pauline Crossley. Staff I recall include the headmaster Mr. Barnard who was a terror, Mr. Coe, Mr. Robinson if any one remembers me please get in touch at
I have often remarked that life at Linton was not allways good, and that often we forget the bad times. This letter cements my view on this. I have omitted real names, and desguised the period that this chap was at Linton. Though I will say it was pre 1970. I must say that I do not recognise this particular situation, certainly there are good members of staff who were professional, caring and understanding, I like to think these were in the majority, but maybe not all were.
My husband Joe was a resident at Linton Camp in the 19xxs - probably 19xx, but he can't remember the exact date. His parents were working in Leeds, with a large family of 2 sisters & 1 other brother. Joe was a very poorly child, he suffered from chromic aesthma & in my opinion, his parents did not know how to cope - so in their minds the best thing was to send him somewhere that could help him & maybe take the pressure off them too.
Joe was sent to various live in schools where he was happy, but he obviously would have rather have been in the family home.
Joe was sent to Linton and that was one of the worst experiances of his life, of which he has still not recovered.
The head person was a Mr xxxx (we think the name is correct) He was a bully & a sadistic evil man. He beat Joe on several occasions, which included kicking him in the face, where he lost all his teeth.
Joe also remembers the head person caning a lad naked in the showers until he was unconsious. His back, buttocks & legs were black & purple. The caning was, not that the lad had done anything wrong, just for some kind of sadistic pleasure.
Joe did try to contact his parents after this event to let them know just what hell he was going through but the head man destroyed all the mail. Even other kids had their mail destroyed by him too.
Eventualy Joe managed to pass a letter to a passer by & asked him to post it for him. Thankfully, the man did post the letter & Joe's father received it. Joe's dad contacted Leeds Educaction Committee & vowed to either sort the situation out himself , or let them sort it.
Next thing 2 men from the Leeds Education committee came to collect Joe & took him straight to the Leeds General Infirmary. It was confirmed he had been attacked but due to the the letter taking so long to be delivered the wounds had heald & he just had the scars.
The scars from this ordeal are still there & when we went to Grassington last summer it was obvious Joe still suffers from the bad memories from this.
We read in the papers every day about horrific abuse going on in Iraq, Egypt, Sudan & vaious other countries. I am shocked that this happened in England. I just hope that anyone else who suffered from this terrifiying abuse may read this & we are pleased if you forward the email address I have sent this on, so we can share experiances.
I just hope this will bring a closure for Joe & comfort in speaking to other who suffered at the hand of this sadistic man
Good morning Mr. Sternwhite,
How do you do you do
Good morning Mr. Sternwhite,
And all the teachers too
We wake up bright and early,
On a cold and frosty morn
We hear the first bell ringing,
At the end of every dorm
You are our LintonSchool Headmaster,
What a Master, what a friend.
Courtesy Alan Aveyard
Just been on your website for Linton Residential. I just thought I would commend you on the site. I have noticed that you are bringing it more and more up to date. I was at the school from 1973
Names From The Past.
Letter from Carol Barker on behalf of husband Ron Barker.
Ron was at Linton from Easter 1961 to Whitsuntide 1962,
(Anyone remember Whitsuntide?)
Ron was on Dorm 2, and he recalls some of the boys from that period.
Geoffrey was Rons best pal at Linton,
And, one girl, Pauline Crossley.
Some of these names do ring a bell with me, but memory is fading fast!
Here is an email from Califonia.
I was at Linton Camp for about 9months and ran away twice. First time back home my Dad said "you can bloody well run back." My second great escape was with a lad from Park Road Orphanage in Bradford, so he had nowhere to run too. He finished up sleeping in a railroad car on the sidings at Foster Square Station, and as I lived near the tracks, I brought him food for a couple of days. Don't know his name but where is he? My experience at Linton was mostly negative, and although I have a flare for high drama, that's how I remember it. My brother Bernard was there but was sent back home to Bradford BRI with a severed main artery through sliding down asphalt, or cement, pathways in camp supplied clogs. Couple of months later I was put on a bus in Grassington thinking I was going home to see my brother or a holiday or something positive. What greeted me was my Mother's casket in the front room (wake) Evelyn McCann nee Jagger age 33. I was 10. No heads up from Mr. Sternwhite or anyone else. If that's not mental abuse, by any standard, I don't know what is. My time at Linton I bonded with Danny Mazurke (Adelaide) and his brother Peter.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Thanks for the chance to rewind. Your website is great.
Peter McCann, Stockton, California.
My name is Peter Wood I attended Linton Camp Special School in the middle to late 1950s you have a photo of me on your web-site as I was rather good at football when I was a young boy playing in the first team for Linton against teams like Threshfield juniors and others , under Teacher/Coach Mr Key who also took us on trips out = pot-holing and caving camping ect! Mt Sternwhite was head teacher Mr Robson was his deputy, the latter went on to marry Jessie the fitness and sports teacher who also taught me to Dance, I have some great memories of my time at the school, also a few others when I got the cane in the early days there, however after I settled in things got a little better.. soon I was in the school football team scoring a number of gaols and became a popular pupil... It was`nt to long before I became a prefect and was able to get certain privileges sitting up on the stage for film nights ect! I can remember not liking when I had to go and see the school nurse on occasions, also having to get up early to ring the bell too! But on the whole I like being at the camp and everything that went on there to keep all the school happy. (tuck-shop for me) Some of my favourites was looking after the pigeon-hut and pigeons, or pets hut with all the different rabbits.. Sometimes we would go out on a ramble, maybe down to the stepping stones or into Linton village or even Grassington I can recall lots of things that amused and interested me at Linton from swimming in the outdoor pool to rolling `BIG BERTHA` (a giant tractor tyre) down the grass hill slopes of the camp.. At this boarding school I learned such a lot of qualities of life that any ordinary school could not offer.. joinery/woodwork, cooking/baking, dancing/acting, swimming/diving playing chess, and many others as-well as getting a good schooling I made some fantastic life memories and good friends...
Memories of Linton Camp School.
I was at Linton Camp School for the 1942-43 school year. . .I think! For certainly I took the Scholarship Exam there. And I have no recollections of any classrooms, but since I passed for the Grammar School, the teaching must have been good. I believe Dr Sternwhite held a recorder class, and that was my first introduction to music. I have no memories of rolling down Elbolton . . .or even walking up it: my memories are of going down to the river at the stepping stones, and sailing makeshift model boats there: and indeed begging a piece of wood from the carpentry teacher to try to do better. But even more, I remember the Linton Falls (just the other side of the Church?) and gazing down from the iron bridge at the water hurling down the rocks below us. And then beyond the bridge, The Snake! Not a snake, of course, but a narrow footpath between high gray walls, winding its way up to the road leading to Grassington, where there was a sweet shop.[I have no idea how we had pocket money: presumably from parents and distributed . . . monthly? . . .by the dormitory master . . .does anyone know?] Linton, of course was much nearer, but of no interest to us: it had a lovely pack-horse bridge, but no shop! Incredibly, looking back, I recall no restrictions on our movements: was every afternoon free to do what we liked?
There were occasional visits by parents (bus from Bradford to Skipton, then the Skipton to Grassington bus as far as Linton – a very long day out before they reached home again!). Once Mother was to come for a weekend, so I was sent to walk to Grassington to find a B&B . . .and how doubtful the owner was at accepting a booking from a small boy . . . but Dales folk were kindly.
There were 10 dormitories, long parallel huts on a gentle rise. The upper ones were for girls, the others, numbers 1 to 5 for us. Perhaps there was some allocation by age: I suspect I was in number 3. And our delight was to sing the Dormitory song (but when??):
Dormitory three and four
And dormitory five.
Dormitory six …and so on (10 fortissimo!)
And we were not “inner city children”. In the 1940’s the original villages were still distinct, with their own shops and fields between. When I returned to Great Horton, there was the whole of Horton Park and a large farm (later built on, of course) between us a:nd the town centre. Little Horton, to the east and Lidgett Green the other way: or moving outwards, Wibsey and Horton Bank Top, were all separate, with fields between. There was indeed a tram up the main road from the centre up to Queensbury (1100ft. with access to the Denholme moors), but one could walk there entirely on footpaths, just crossing the occasional road. Well, perhaps by some sociological definition we were “inner city”, and certainly the morning trams into town were full and left us standing: but we never knew it.