Sunday 21 January 2018

My mother, Gerda Laura Clara Alice Sloan, nee. Friedman.



 In 2017 I stayed with a friend, Steve Shalet, at his home in Derbyshire. (We were fellow medical students in London in the 1960s).  He knew I liked writing and that I found writing therapeutic. He told me he had written about his two children and that he had restricted himself to three A4 sheets. I found his essay poignant and contained an account that could not be easily made verbally. He suggested I ought to do a similar thing about my mother after I had described some of experiences of her being a German refugee with a medical qualification coming to England in 1938.

My mother was born in Berlin and her parents, Richard and Lilly) were very wealthy and of Jewish background. She was the youngest of three and she and her brothers, Herbert and Ernst, were educated in their early years by an English governess, Miss Henderson. They could all speak very good English. They lived in a luxurious house in the diplomatic area of Berlin. She had a good education and studied medicine in the University of Berlin. Hitler rose to power and she and some of her friends had to wear a yellow armband at medical school because they were of the Jewish race, However, my grandparents and their children were brought up worshiping in the Lutheran church. My grandfather had significant business interests in England and moved to become a naturalized citizen of Great Britain in 1933 as did Lilly, his wife. They had a flat in Maida Vale in London

My mother was determined to complete her medical studies and obtained her Doctor of Medicine (MD) in 1938. She left Germany immediately after qualifying and only just escaped the country in time to save her life. Her parents had moved from London to Harrogate and my mother joined them there. The British Government announced that foreign doctors had to requalify by re-taking the final examination. She passed the conjoint finals (MRCS, LRCP) in Edinburgh. I thought that was very impressive. Shortly after passing those exams, the government announced that there was no longer any need for German doctors to retake them!

She applied for about three hundred jobs and got nowhere. My father (who was a General Practitioner in Airedale, Castleford, Yorkshire) was in the middle of a very difficult divorce and had advertised for an assistant. He read my mother’s application and said to a friend “I only hope she is not good looking.” They were married in 1944 and nearly one year later I was born. For the duration of the war she was under a curfew and was not allowed out in the evenings or at night. A policeman would check on her every evening and joined my parents for a relaxing cup of tea.  My mother thought this was a great luxury for a GP – not to be allowed out at night. My father must have done all the night visits.

What always amazed me was how the people of Airedale and Castleford took to my mother, a German in the second world war. This was because she was a refugee but also because she was so kind and caring to her patients. She was so thankful that Great Britain took her in and let her do the job of her dreams. Their housekeeper, Mrs. McGrath, had a son, Harry, who was a prisoner of war in Germany in the war and contracted TB there. He eventually died as a result of that disease in the early 1960s. Harry never had an ill thought about my mother and indeed used to drive her or my father occasionally.

My mother was a modern woman. She was the first woman in Castleford to wear trousers (slacks). She was a cultured woman and took us to the ballet, musicals in London and she read widely. She was a good bridge player and liked to bet on the horses (she had a horse when she was a young girl).

I saw how the war affected my mother for the rest of her life. She had problems sleeping and like she did in the war, listened to the news all the time on the BBC world service during the night. She knew that if Hitler had won that she was on a death list. She had a serious guilt complex that she had survived and had not died in a concentration camp. Her grandmother’s cousin Peter died in Auschwitz in 1943, I cannot imagine what it must feel like to have to leave one’s country.

Her parents moved back to London after the war ended. In 1953 her father died suddenly and shortly afterwards her mother, Lilly, committed suicide by cutting her wrists in the bath. I was 8 years old. I think they told me they had both died but I really can’t remember. I wonder if this was psychological repression. My paternal grandfather died about that time also and I know they did not tell me about that for a year. I cannot remember either of my parents being at all upset and my happy childhood simply continued. Lilly, liked my mother was a very loving person. My mother’s father was a gambler, drinker and womaniser. He was a character and I loved hearing the stories about him. We will never know why Lilly committed suicide. This selfish act had a considerable effect on my mother magnified by the fact that one of her brothers blamed her for not getting to her mother in London quickly enough after her father’s death. This added to her already significant guilt complex as a survivor of the war. She drank too much alcohol but mainly in the evenings. The drinking did not affect her job. My father was a tea totaller!! She developed oesophageal varices and had cirrhosis of the liver when she died in 1990 aged 77. I regret the rows we had in her later life about her excessive drinking. I wanted her to be well and loved her. I forgave my mother everything because she deeply loved my father, her mother and me.

My mother was a very loving and generous person and not just to me. She always supported me as did my father until his death in 1966. I was petrified that my mother would commit suicide after my father’s death. They bought me a car when I became a student in 1963 and my mother bought me two further cars later. In 1970 when Felicity and I married she gave us a house she owned as a wedding gift. When I got a job as a GP in Cheltenham my mother moved down there to be near me. My second wife, Kath, and I sold that house and I bought a flat in Budleigh Salterton in Devon. The sale of that flat funded our setting up a General Practice from scratch in Airedale, Castleford, after my mother had retired. When I moved from Cheltenham back to Castleford my mother moved there to be near us.

Building up the practice was very difficult. Of course all my new patients had to come from neighboring practices. At one point my mother broke her agreement with her former partner not to practice again in Castleford for 5 years after retirement and helped me out when I was under great stress. She actually became my medical partner for over a year. Consequently, her former partner served an injunction on her and we had to close the practice for a couple of weeks. My mother would be proud that Kath and I built up a thriving training practice which won awards and ended up with a huge building with 19 consulting rooms. Kath was the practice manager. Our family had a street named after it – Sloan place – which I drive past every day. Kath and my parents are commemorated on the Foundation Wall of the Royal College of General Practitioners.

My mother lived alone from 1966 to 1990. She led a full life after my father died with holidays, friends, playing bridge, betting on the horses etc. I have learned a lot from her and others about how to cope with bereavement and living alone. Towards her end of life in November 1989 I sat with her in the nursing home. She could not communicate. On the TV in her room footage was being shown of the Berlin wall coming down. How she would have loved to see that momentous event.

Her ashes were buried in a joint grave with my father’s in Putney Vale Cemetery, London. Her parents’ ashes are in the adjacent grave. It was at the request of my father that his ashes should be buried next to his in-laws’ so that in the end my mother’s ashes  could be near his and her parents’.


Tuesday 2 December 2014

November 2014 - two funerals

In November 2014 I went to two funerals. The first was of Norman Kennedy. He died aged 70.

I will explain how I knew Norman by quoting from the Pontefract and Castleford Express of Thursday May 14th 1982:

"Ferry Fryston

Hair's breadth

In one of the evening's major upsets, retiring Labour Councillor, Norman Kennedy, was ousted by SDP newcomer, Dr Richard Sloan by just four votes after two recounts.
Gerry Byrne and William Inman took the first two places but in a neck-and-neck contest for third place Norman Kennedy lost his seat in a traditionally Labour ward to Dr Sloan.
Dr Sloan said the result was "absolutely fantastic".
He put much of his success down to people using their vote as a protest, because Labour candidates in the ward had been unopposed for so many years"

The second quote from the same newspaper on Thursday May 12th 1983 is self explanatory:

"Ferry Fryston

Norman gets his revenge.

Labour choice Norman Kennedy gained revenge and his former seat by beating SDP councillor Richard Sloan. 
Last year Cr Sloan ousted Cr Kennedy from his seat by just four votes after a recount.
But Cr Kennedy regained his seat last week with a convincing though slender majority.
Ferry Fryston was the only ward in the Pontefract and Castleford district where seats changed handsand losing his seat Cr Sloan halved the SDP representation on the council.
Results - N. Kennedy (lab) 2362; R Sloan (SDP/Lib) 2119. Maj 143. Labour gain from SDP."

I was somewhat relieved to be "ousted" as the council work was complex and difficult for me to do justice to it as I was working full time as a GP.

However, the two recounts evening was very exciting especially as I believed Norman would easily win.

After the results had been announced in 1983 Cr Bill Inman mad a speech in which he said he did not get a leaflet from us. This insenced us as we had put 5000+ leaflets out in the previous 4 weekends as well as getting up at 5 am on the day to deliver several hundred more. We went back to our house and after more than a few drinks found 3000 leaflets we had over. John Little and I went out to find Bill Inman's house and post all 3000 through his letterbox. We did not find his house!!

Norman was far the better councillor than I and did some great work for our ward. RIP.

The second funeral I went to with Kath was that of retired consultant Obstetrician and Gynaecologist, Peter Howe. 

This photo was taken in France where he and Margaret had a second home. He had a deep stroke 15 years ago and Margaret, his wife, looked after him like gold. My friend Grahame Smith (now a retired Pontefract GP) and his wife Caroline knew him better than we did. Grahame and I visited him in 2013 and we knew he could undersand us but only spoke one word. It was after I asked him whether he remembered my mother. He said "Gerda" - her name. We visited him in SeSeptember his year and he had obviously deteriorated. He did not speak at all but certainly could understand us. 
Margaret used to deal with his private appointments and my mother and I sent him plenty of these. Margaret was so friendly on the phone. When my mother died they sent me and Kath some flowers to the house after the funeral. We just did the same for Margaret.

There were several doctors at the funeral, some of whom were retired or practising GPs. There were also retired or working consultants there. I was reminded how friendly the GPs and consultants were to one another all thos years ago. This has all gone to a large extent. I met on consultant in about 2007 who told me his manager had warned him not to fraternise with GPs.

What was fun after the funeral was that we met some of the midwives who had worked with us in Airedale many years ago. Sister Mary Thornton was there. She retired 22 years ago. There were also another two midwives who had worked at Tieve Tara in the late 1970s and very early 1980s. They recounted to one or two of the naughtyish things I did in the early 1980s. I  wrote a letter to Mr Howe that said that in my opinion the patient I was referring had the IQ of a dead plant. I also offered to dance the fandango with him if another patient turned up to see him. I remembered forging a letter from Peter to me telling me how hopeless my partner, Anne Godridge, was. She used to forge positive pregnancy test results which were hers. She wanted to see the look on my face when I saw one. Once, in the very early days, three midwives came to the clinic when I only had two pregnant women patients (the practice was building up).

Peter was a gentle man and a gentleman. RIP.




Friday 28 February 2014

Immigration debate

Recently, there has been lots of debate about immigration from the countries in the European Economic Union. In the last few years or so, we have stayed in several hotels in England and invariably most of the staff are from abroad, usually from a country in the EEC. The first contact is usually at reception and then in the restaurant. Invariably the staff are polite, friendly and efficient and look as though they enjoy their work.

My mother was a refugee from Germany and arrived in England just before the start of the Second World War. She had to retake her medical degrees in order to practice and she passed the exams the first time. She came from a wealthy family and she and her brother had an English governess (called Miss Henderson!). My mother and uncle learnt English from her from a very early age.

We go to Italy a lot as we have a second home there. Certainly the younger people we have met all speak pretty good English and they learned this at school. I wondered how all the waiters and receptionist at hotels had learned their English.

I today found a statistic on the Internet in in 2010 about 92% of all secondary school students in the countries of the EEC were learning English as a second language.

I am convinced that this is a major factor that determines employment in the UK of people from Europe.

Thursday 12 December 2013

A very sad day today . Our friend Gill's father died yesterday. Patrick Kavanagh CBE was deputy Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police from 1977 to 1983. We met him many times over the years and had lots of Sunday lunches with him at Gill's. When he was assistant commissioner he was in charge of "traffic".

A few years ago I told him, at a party, that I was taking my advanced driving test. As we were leaving he shouted accross the room "Don't forget - mirror, signal manoeuvre".

The photo of him and Gill was taken by me at Gill's 60th birthday party at her house. We had called a private taxi to leave but were so enjoying meeting old friends that I gave the driver £20 and sent him away. I did the same to the second taxi! We went home in the third.

Earlier this year he took us out (and he was in his 90th year) for a lovely lunch near where he lived. He had to walk supported with one hand on my shoulder. I told him I felt as though I was being arrested. Kath and I are really pleased we met him again in his final year

He had a great sense of humour but also a steely determination. One could see how he rose from a PC to such a high police rank. There is an entry in Wikepedia outlining his career. There is a full page obituary in The Times of 13/12/13.

We will miss him greatly.


Thursday 28 March 2013

End of the PCT

I went to the farewell coffee and cake meeting at the NHS Wakefield PCT this morning. What a sad affair. It was the last day of its existence and the last day of Gill Galdins working there. She was responsible for my getting me job there as education advisor and appraisal lead and for 7 years of happy working for me. All the best, Gill.

Thursday 21 March 2013

Recent Italy visit

We had a cold weather experience in March in Umbria with our friend Gill, who was with us for the third year running. However warmth was created by our meeting Johnny and Janelle Apodaca and joining them in a few glasses of red wine first in our house and then Aldo's bar in Panicale. I am planning to sell Johnny's easel for a huge amount of money.


Feeding the ducks at the beautiful Fonti del Clituno

Thursday 7 February 2013

Birds



This sparrow hawk sat on our fence yesterday. Later in the morning I heard an owl and a woodpecker. Loads of interesting birds here.