In the year that I discovered we had had a Green and Black Review and set out to revive it, Orville Green wrote a wonderful piece for that first edition about Grantus (Latin master, Mr. Grant) and his stately Chev which, as he said then, would move slowly around the library and park behind the staff room on the grass where it whispered and settled softly to a stop in exactly the same space each day, giving the impression that no brakes were applied. Secondly, it was indeed a 1938 Chev, of regal bearing. And it was driven... well... regally. Majestic and slow. Always.
I was, one summer, doing summer classes at Calabar and Grantus was one of the teachers at this summer school. After school one day, I was heading to Grove Road and was happy to accept a lift in this famous car along with a few other boys. As expected, Grantus drove at some 15 miles per hour, out of the school, onto the 'Robin and down Constant Spring Road. Then one lad alighted. At this Grantus raised the speed up to 30 miles per hour. In Half Way Tree the second boy alighted. Now I was the only passenger. To my absolute amazement, Grantus took off down Half-Way-Tree Road, like... well, like Orville Green! I watched in astonishment as the speedometer needle rose to an unheard of 45 miles per hour. If that was not enough, the old man removed the felt hat that was always on his head except when he was in classes, inspected the inside, removed his white handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket and calmly wiped a little sweat from the sweat band.
To do this, of course, Grantus, our slow sedate Grantus, had BOTH hands off the steering wheel. And when I was let off at Grove Road, the old man had a ghost of a smile on his face as if challenging me to tell this story with any credibility whatsoever.
- Ewart "Fatz" Walters