David Haxell (Head Porter)
Head Porter (and consummate storyteller) David Haxell reveals how he came to work at Hertford.
My dear old mother sent me out for a loaf of bread, a pint of milk and some ‘French fancies’ one late summer morning in the year of 1972; an aunt was descending upon the Haxell household that day and my mother was determined to make ‘a big splash’ on the catering front. I was 16 at the time and beyond the stage of having my hair rubbed, accompanied by comments such as “my, hasn’t he grown?”, and two vermillion lips sucking the very life out of my cheeks. Accordingly I decided to miss this event – although, the thought of receiving 50p (a king’s ransom in those days) pressed into my sweaty palm as I waved my aunt goodbye, was enticing. I craved the open road, blue skies and an ever changing horizon. Consequently, I ran away to sea.
It would be another 14 years before I returned and the dear old aunt had passed away, the French fancies had become Euro Delights (only available in lukewarm pink) and 50p wouldn’t get you anything more than a Vicar’s raised eyebrows as he viewed the collection plate.
What adventures I had in those 14 years: travelling the world at the mercy of the ocean’s tide, washing up on foreign shores, falling in love several times and, yes, hearing the mermaid’s cry in the cold light of dawn! But enough was enough, and a shore life was what then beckoned. So with a heavy heart and a light wallet I joined the Royal Air Force. Having to endure several severe haircuts and bellowing mouths an inch from my face seemed to be the only requirement to get on. In fact, it seemed that to be a military superpower all you have to do is shout louder than everyone around you. Shouting was something I was good at (and still am), and so promotion was a certainty; I rose through the ranks with all the skill of a rhino walking in a field of wild orchids.
25 years later and a few successful campaigns under my belt, I was catapulted out of the vortex of military life and into the uncertainties of civilian life. Where to go now? What to do? I found myself entering the hallowed portals of Hertford College in the capacity of that most revered of all positions, Head Porter (or, when I apply for a loan, ‘Lodge Manager’). I spend most of my time now on the mezzanine level of the Lodge, administrating and overseeing the myriad of tasks that befall a porter. Dealing with our fantastic students, and the tangled webs of student life, has taught me many things – most of which I couldn’t ever reveal on the grounds of personal safety.
Hertford is like a large wheel forever turning and it is great to see Freshers arrive, grow in stature, confidence and abilities until they eventually leave as well rounded, mature, intellectual individuals ready to take their places within the world. It’s enough to make me want to say “my, hasn’t s/he grown?” but I will always draw the line at vermillion lips!