For almost fifty years, the cluster of buildings centered on Park Place was the home of the Harris Academy. During this time, many thousands of pupils spent their formative years within the crowded confines of Park Place while the passing years also witnessed many changes in the teaching staff. Nevertheless, despite this inevitable process of change, the school always maintained a reassuring atmosphere of stability, in large measure due to the presence of many long-serving and much respected members of staff. Foremost among these must rank the first two Rectors, whose careers span the entire history of the Park Place Harris.

The portrait which hangs in the entrance hall of the present school is a permanent reminder of the vital role played in the history of the Harris by James Brebner. To most present-day pupils, he would probably seem frail and elderly, his sombre academic dress and white beard suggesting a somewhat austere and forbidding figure. James Brebner, however, was only in his mid-forties when he accepted the position as first Rector in February, 1885. The task facing him was indeed formidable for the Harris was a pioneer school of its kind, "an educational experiment on a large scale which was being watched with interest and expectancy far beyond the confines of the city". On his retiral, almost twenty-five years later, the success of the experiment was beyond question for the Harris had earned a reputation for high standards of both conduct and scholastic achievement. Much of the credit for this success must be attributed to Mr Brebner and the enthusiastic young staff he gathered around him.

In his previous position as headmaster of the Dundee Institution, Mr Brebner had gained a reputation for his progressive ideas on educational matters and his new appointment gave him the ideal opportunity to put these theories into practice. Well aware of the limitations of the traditional school curriculum, he encouraged the development of practical subjects and particularly the study of science, to which pupils were introduced in the early years of the elementary department. To demonstrate the relevance of such subjects to the world outside the classroom, he introduced the idea of industrial visits to local foundries and paper mills and, further afield, to the coal mines of Fife or the iron works at Carron.

The less formal side to the curriculum was also encouraged. As a member of the Dundee Choral Union, he had a deep love for music and strongly supported the efforts of Frank Sharp to develop the subject within the school. The Literary Society was founded and he attended its debates, and a forerunner of the present school magazine was published as early as 1890. As a keen mountaineer, he was greatly interested in sport of all kind - introducing physical culture to the school timetable and giving his support to sports clubs within the school. To present-day pupils, all this may seem commonplace but such ideas were major innovations for schools of the time.

Having seen the school safely past its majority, Mr Brebner retired in 1909. Among many tributes to mark this event, that of H.M. Inspectors perhaps best sums up his achievements:

The headmaster, who has presided over the school since its inception, is now retiring. The school was one of the first of its kind in the country, and it fell to the Rector not only to organise it and to establish in it a salutary tradition, but also in large measure to inaugurate a school of a new type. The wise sagacity with which he has carried out this important work is written in the history of the school's success. His withdrawal from active work constitutes a distinct loss to the school and the community.

The Inspectors were somewhat premature in announcing his "retiral from active work", for Mr Brebner's remaining years saw no lessening in his boundless energy. For many years, he was actively involved in the management of the Dundee Industrial Schools and the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, and his scholarly interests were maintained through his part in producing an edition of the Vulgate Psalter. He also maintained his links with the school and was a familiar figure at the annual sports day until the early 1930s. After a lifetime of work, James Brebner died at the age of ninety-four but not before his achievements received further recognition. In 1932, a year before his death, fitting tribute was paid to the first Rector when he was awarded the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws for his services to education.

In many ways, the retiral of Dr Brebner seemed to mark the end of an era but the Harris was fortunate enough to have within its ranks a natural successor - a man who was able not only to carry the mantle of his illustrious predecessor but able to "fill the office with added eclat and grace".

Mr J. Barry Robb was already an established part of the Harris tradition, having served as English and Second Master from 1893 to 1909 before his appointment as Rector. Many former pupils have testified to his great love of his subject and his ability to excite a similar love for English Literature among his students. This success was in no small measure due to the fact that he was a little unconventional in his approach:

James Barry Robb was more than a teacher. He was a colourful personality, and that because he had his mannerisms, his foibles and his whims. Perfectly groomed, tailored and shod, he was a rebuke to youths less careful of personal appearance. And perhaps you remember how, as he taught, his left hand gripped the lapel of his morning-coat while the right constantly took from the desk a pen and placed it behind his ear, only to reverse and then repeat the process. But what of his smile - surely the most baffling since Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa? It was tolerant and whimsical and knowing and kind; it was the smile of a man who knew every schoolboy excuse, secretly enjoyed listening to them, and hoped, like the humorous philosopher he was, he would hear them again and yet again.

His appointment as Rector, with all its added responsibilities, did not alter the habits of a lifetime for he remained ever a colourful character:

Ever full of vigour and energy I recall him hurrying along the corridors and up and down the many staircases at incredible speed, always very formally dressed in striped trousers and morning-coat, his coat tails flying behind him as he walked, and his rubber-soled shoes making no sound and so giving no warning of his approach to the erring pupil.

The probable consequences for such miscreants have already been noted and many a "belted knight" would have had cause to regret the Rector's liking for such unfashionable footwear.

In all his actions, he seemed to possess a limitless energy and enthusiasm and he spared no pains to instil the same qualities in staff and pupils alike:

He was a well-dressed gentleman with an eagle eye and a habit of pacing the hall at certain times in the day. At the forenoon interval or the changing of classes he would look up and, if he thought we were loitering or hanging over the balustrades in a dangerous manner, he would blow a whistle, just like a referee.

Such eccentricities, however, were combined with a great love for the school and a great talent as both teacher and organiser. His pupils benefited from the enthusiastic skill with which he conducted classes, while his colleagues had equal reason to feel grateful for the efficiency with which he dealt with the tedious but vital task of timetabling. Above all, he inspired respect by his insistence upon good manners and consideration for others, qualities which he himself possessed to a high degree. To both staff and pupils alike, James Barry Robb was "always a gentleman".

As Rector, Barry Robb's responsibilities were great but the surroundings in which he worked were far from impressive. Indeed, the facilities of the time would seem pitifully inadequate to a modern-day observer:

His office was a very small room which he had to share with Miss Carnegie, his good and efficient clerkess. His large roll-top desk took up the greater part of the space available, there was little or no room for files, books and papers, and, when anyone came to see Mr Robb, Miss Carnegie had to withdraw and she must have spent many a half-hour in the draughty corridors and staircases of the school.

Many hours were spent in these crowded conditions dealing with the routine administration of the school. Here too were hatched schemes which were to prove of long-lasting benefit to the Harris. Mr Robb was a prime mover in the establishment of a Former Pupils Association while his optimism, energy and perseverance were essential factors in securing the new playing fields at Elliot Road and opening them free of debt.

The Rector's paramount concern, however, was the perennial problem of overcrowding at Park Place. For many years, he tried to persuade the authorities of the need for a Harris extension, or ideally for an entirely new building. At last, his efforts bore fruit and the new Harris at Perth Road was completed. Sadly, he was not to enjoy the satisfaction of occupying the building for which he had so long campaigned:

I longed to enter the new school as Rector but that was a longing impossible of fulfilment. It was the Promised Land to me - and, like Moses, I only saw it from afar.

After a connection with the school lasting almost forty years, Mr Barry Robb retired and it was left to a new Rector to establish the Harris in its new surroundings.

While the ultimate responsibility for the administration of the school rested with the Rector, both Dr Brebner and Mr Barry Robb were ably assisted by many long-serving and loyal staff. A vital role, for example, was played by the Lady Superintendent responsible for the girls' school. Once again, the Harris was fortunate enough to be served by two able teachers whose combined period of service covered almost half a century. In July, 1885 Miss Barbara Porter of Balfour Street Public School joined the staff as a female assistant at an annual salary of £80. Soon afterwards, she was appointed Lady Superintendent, a position she filled until 1906 when she was appointed Warden of Dundee Training College. Happily, this did not end her association with the school for, some thirty years later, she was a surprise and welcome guest at the school's Jubilee celebrations.

Miss Porter's successor had long-standing links with the Harris. A pupil at the school from its earliest days, Miss Barbara Sutherland was awarded the dux medal in 1890. Three years later, she joined the teaching staff and, in 1906, on Miss Porter's retiral, was appointed as Lady Superintendent. For the next twenty-seven years, she was responsible for the welfare of thousands of girls, many of whom still remember her understanding yet efficient manner:

She was a small, bird-like, and very lady-like expert in sewing, problem solving with difficult teenage girls and various other matters... a shy, gentle little lady whom I remember as wearing a long brown skirt and tailored blouse, with a large bunch of keys attached to the belt at her waist making a curious sound as she made her way along the long corridors.

Unlike the Rector with whom she served, Miss Sutherland was able to witness the transition from Park Place to Perth Road but, within two years, she in turn retired after almost forty years service.

Miss Sutherland was not the only former pupil to return to the school as a member of the teaching staff. Many examples could be cited but two long-serving staff members provide ample illustration of the links which helped to establish a sense of tradition within the school. Miss M.B. Aitken was a pupil on the opening day in 1885 and had a distinguished school career, culminating in the award of the dux medal in 1889. After serving as a pupil-teacher, she attended Moray House before returning to the school in 1896 as assistant mistress in charge of Standard III girls. Ten years later, she transferred to the secondary department as a teacher of French and German, acting as head of department during the war years while John Munro was a prisoner of war in Germany. On his return, she once again adopted the role of a valued assistant teacher until her retirement in 1933, after an association with the school lasting for almost half a century.

The career of George Dickie followed a similar pattern. Another first-day pupil, he joined the teaching staff in 1896 as an assistant teacher in the elementary department and, for many years, performed the vital task of preparing the boys' qualifying class for their examinations. Like Miss Aitken, his connection with Park Place spanned its whole history and extended into the long-promised new school at Perth Road before his well-earned retirement in 1937.

Although not former pupils, many other members of staff became part of the Harris tradition through long and valued service. To select a few examples from the hundreds of names deserving of mention is a difficult task, since each generation of pupils will remember with affection, or occasionally with less charitable sentiments, the teachers who played such an important part in their formative years. Nevertheless, it is hoped that a few examples will give a picture, however inadequate, of the personalities who seemed an integral and irreplaceable part of the Park Place Harris.

The Harris was always fortunate in having able heads of department and nowhere was this more true than in the English department. This tradition was established by James Malloch, the first head of English and subsequently Second Master. While his teaching methods might not appeal to present-day pupils, there was little doubt as to their effectiveness:

The text book used in Class VII was the first book of "Paradise Lost". We had to learn it by rote, and we took long lists of the words therein with their derivations. The discipline of this method was severe but no better training could have been given to careless boys than the enforced observation we had to cultivate in analysing Milton's mouth-filling words in their primary meaning. Mr Malloch even managed to make this forbidding exercise very interesting for which his pupils will ever hold him in grateful remembrance.

Not all pupils seem to have found such tasks so fascinating, however, leading to their teacher being endowed with a typically fanciful nickname - " Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with blood". The role of head of department subsequently fell on James Barry Robb whose achievements have already been chronicled while he, in turn, was succeeded by another teacher of rare talent. Former pupils have recalled John McHardy as a superb English teacher with a knowledge and love of his subject which he was able to transmit to his charges. Like many of his contemporaries, his energies were not confined to the classroom for many years were spent encouraging the school football side. His talents received due recognition when he was appointed Second Master, following in the footsteps of his predecessors, but, perhaps inevitably, took him away from the Harris to assume the role of headmaster at Rockwell.

For many years, the study of Classics was regarded as an essential part of a child's education. At Harris, the teaching of Latin and Greek is inextricably linked with the name of William Taylor who was appointed as head of Classics in 1895, a post which he filled with distinction for the next thirty-eight years. To generations of pupils, he was known as "Dolly" Taylor. As is so often the case, the origin of this nickname is a matter of some debate. To many pupils, it was based on the belief that such an erudite figure must possess a suitably impressive forename - leading to the widely held opinion that he had been christened Adolphus. Other pupils, however, suggest a more fanciful derivation, stating that the young Mr Taylor had particularly rosy cheeks which invited inevitable comparison with the features of children's dolls of the period.

Like so many staff, his interests were not confined to his chosen subject. Like Dr Brebner, he had a great interest in music and was a member of the Dundee Choral Union for many years. A keen sportsman, he took a benevolent interest in the fortunes of the school sides while, on a more academic level, he studied advanced mathematics as a hobby. He was far from being a dusty academic, however, and many pupils will recall the enthusiasm with which he joined in the festivities at the pupils' parties in Mather's Hotel or the F.P. Dances in the Foresters' Hall. Such enthusiasm inevitably involved him in extra duties including the dubious honour of becoming the first editor of a regular Harris school magazine.

Despite his undoubted talents, Mr Taylor was to witness the decline in popularity of Classics among pupils in the period after the First World War. This trend was common to schools throughout the whole of Scotland and must have been a source of deep regret to Mr Taylor and his able deputy, Thomas Steele. Some consolation must have been derived, however, from the knowledge that his pupils were playing a part in maintaining the Classical tradition for numbered among them were at least three future professors.

While the study of Classics was declining in popularity, other subjects were assuming a new importance. The most obvious example of this was the growing importance in the school curriculum of experimental science. When the school first opened, the facilities for teaching science were far from ideal but this was soon rectified when a new science lecture room and chemistry laboratory were completed in the annexe in Tay Square. At this time, science was not taught in the Elementary Schools but it soon became an essential ingredient in the timetables of Harris pupils:

The laboratory was then confined to chemistry experiments, and had only 32 benches, but it was said to be the best of its kind in Scotland, and the perfect equipment produced - in the hands of Mr Paterson - great results.

To forestall the inevitable remarks from recent pupils, it should be pointed out that this was not the same Mr Paterson who taught science and for many years served as an assistant head teacher at Perth Road. The first science master was Andrew B. Paterson who joined the school staff from Beckford Street School, Hamilton in 1886. For the next thirty-one years, he supervised the teaching of scientific subjects in Park Place before retiring in 1917. For much of this time, he had the able assistance of William Pitkeathly and, on Mr Paterson's retiral, Mr Pitkeathly assumed the mantle of head of department and filled this post until his own retirement in 1937.

Not all staff were honoured with promotion but the part they played in the life of the school was no less important. Many former pupils have recalled with affection the kindly yet efficient way in which Hugh Holburn conducted his Maths class. Others have recorded their gratitude to Herr Geyer, an assistant in the modern languages department whose lessons were enlivened by his eccentricities:

He liked to commence each day with three verses from the French Testament but was also keen on verbs and would say in all seriousness, "You will never get into heaven if you don't know your verbs". Although a German who had been wounded in the Franco-Prussian War, he was the only member of staff who wore a mauve rosette the day Queen Victoria died.

For generations of pupils, the sound of a choir or orchestra will evoke the memory of Frank Sharp while others will recall their days in the junior department under the tender supervision of Miss Wilson, Miss Morrison and Miss Duff and the manner in which the difficult transition to the senior school was made easier by the expertise of Agnes Gloack. So many others deserve to have their achievements recorded but such a task would require a volume of its own. Suffice it to say that the many omissions are in no sense a reflection of their shortcomings for all, in their own way, played a vital part in establishing the traditions of the Harris Academy.