"Many of you might have seen me at the front gates of Seven Springs, enjoying my favourite hobby - watching the passing traffic. I love cars. Not sports cars necessarily, family saloons or hatchbacks I enjoy watching with equal enthusiasm. I have many friends who'll toot as they pass by. It's great to be acknowledged and I look forward to seeing them each day.
Seven Springs is my Home, and Pembury Road is where I choose to spend my time. On the days you don't see me, please don't worry about me, I might have gone fishing or on an outing somewhere. Occasionally I'll simply decide to stay in the warm, maybe somewhere that I'm still able to hear the traffic."
Michael was born exactly one year to the day that his parents married, on Sunday 13th March 1949.
His mother always had this thing about thirteen, which continued throughout our lives. For example, Michael born in the year 49 (4+9=13) and his sister born 11-10-55 (1+1+1+0+5+5=13) were just two of her favourite examples. It is probably why Michael has 13 as his lucky number too, but back to his story...
When Michael was 2 years old, his parents took him to see the Queen's physician in Harley Street, London. He was a very famous man, but alas I cannot remember his name. He examined Michael, and then declared that he was a living "vegetable" and that nothing could be done to give him any satisfactory life. This greatly upset our Mother, but my Father would not accept that Michael's fate was to be in a vegetable state all his life.
Our Father had a great love of the sea and fishing. Our home was in Tunbridge Wells, about 30 miles from the coast. He had a fishing boat at Pevensey Bay, and so as not to leave his wife and son alone at weekends, he bought a caravan, which had permanent standing on the garden of his friend Mr Gell, by the sea.
In the summer of 1952, he built a cot outside of the caravan for Michael to lay and watch the traffic, as cars always seemed to make him smile. Still unable to speak, anything which got a response from Michael was seen as an acknowledgement that this so called vegetable was growing roots, and one day somehow would flourish. But nothing could have prepared them for what was to happen next................
Michael's Mother was a very quiet country girl, having grown up on a farm in Norfolk. She was never heard to raise her voice or swear. However, when she fell down the caravan steps, one day, she swore rather abruptly. Thinking that no had over heard her she went to check on Michael. Was she in for the surprise of her life. Michael was lying there, with a big smile on his face, and clearly saying "Bugger!"
The story goes that she sat there for the rest of the afternoon, listening to Michael, repeating the swear word over, and over, and over again!!!! By the time our Father had returned from his days fishing, Michael was not just saying the word over and over again, but with real gusto!!!
From this, our Father took Michael to meet a Scandinavian child specialist, who had a school for children with special needs at Thornbury Park, Bristol. Although Michael never talks about his time in Bristol, one thing is for sure, he would have not come as far as he has today if it had not been for the special carers in Bristol, or his parents allowing their child to leave home at the age of three. It must have been a heart breaking experience for all concerned. But what you have to remember is that we are talking about the early 1950s, when children like Michael were termed as behind the curtains children, who were shut away and forgotten. Michael was never going to be one of those children. He lapped up everything that he was taught. To start with for example one "Bugger meant no, and two "Buggers" meant yes. It proved he had a brain, and with the right encouragement, that brain began to grow, and as he grew so did his speech. At last he could communicate, and to this day it is that certain swear word that is still his clearest word of all!!!
Michael stayed at Bristol until he was 12. The school was no longer able to accommodate him. For the next year, he lived at home with us and had a home tutor, as he still had a great thirst for knowledge.
Unfortunately, during this time our Father became seriously ill with a collapsed valve in his heart. Life was becoming increasingly difficult for our Mother, who found lifting and carrying Michael, who was by now a full 5 feet 10 inches, (Lanky legs as I used to call him then) and a strain on her neck and back. When our Father became bed ridden, the Doctor said that Michael would have to be found other accommodation. Well that was how it was explained to me; somehow I do not think that anyone bothered to explain this to Michael.
So when Michael was 13, he became a patient at St Mary's Hospital for Children, in Carshalton, Surrey. Ward E10. (There was a programme on ITV at the time called ‘Emergency Ward 10' and this was our little joke).
Mother and Father would go religiously every Thursday to visit Michael. During school holidays, I was allowed to go too.
I remember that it was run by Mr Muller, who was a funny man. Michael never mentions his time there either. I think that I know why. The ward had beds for about two dozen children and my Father would stop on his weekly visits to buy sweets and crisps for all the boys. Whenever I went I was allowed to go around and hand out the goodies. There would always be a few lads who were bed ridden, with the remainder like Michael in wheelchairs out in the day room. On one such visit, I handed out the sweets as usual, and one lad asked if he could have both sweets and crisps. I rather liked him, so on this occasion I gave him both. He was bed ridden with a cold and I helped him put them into his bedside locker. I recall it was a lovely day and we took Michael out in the car. On our return, it was always sad to leave Michael, but what made it worse was that this lad's bed was now empty. Whilst we had been out he had sadly died. Such was the case for most of the lads in Ward E10. To my knowledge, only Michael and Christopher Shay are still alive to this day. All the other lads had terminal illnesses, whereas Michael and Christopher were simply unlucky at birth to experience traumas that they would have to live with all their lives.
One can only imagine how painful this must have been for Michael. But on a more positive note, there are a couple of stories from that time which should be told.
Ward E10 became the mascots of nearby Crystal Palace Football Club. They sent a special coach every home match, for all the boys who were fit enough to travel. Michael was of course first in the queue every time. Not just for the football, but because he could get out and watch his favourite pastime - cars!!!
However my favourite memory is one that our parents for many years have tried to cover up and ignore. It is a simple story of two siblings who were never given the chance to grow up together, as normal brother and sister.
Whilst at St Mary's Hospital, they decided to work on Michael's teeth. To do this they were to anesthetise him. Unfortunately someone did rather too good a job and some of the fluid got spilt onto Michael's operation gown. He absolutely stunk of the stuff. So when I went to see him, I made the comment "You smell!!" We ended up laughing about it, and I ended up with some on my clothes, which prompted Michael to shout "You're smelly too!"
From there on, every time we spoke to each other, or exchanged letters, we referred to each other as ‘Smelly number one' (Michael) and ‘Smelly number two' (his sister).
Sadly our parents, who we both adore, did not approve of this, and it was the basis for many rows in the household, for his sister, who was forbidden to address or refer to her brother in this manner. But Michael has never forgotten, and now all these years later it still brings a smile to both our faces.
Mind you, that was not the only time that his sister got the blame for doing what today would be considered normal sibling activities; there was another life changing event.
Michael suffered with hay fever very badly every year. One day he was outside with his sister, in the patio area outside the rear of Ward E10. They had just cut the huge field of grass and piled it up in the corner. As normal Michael, as his parents were absent, had been cheeky to his young sister. This resulted in her tipping him out of his wheelchair (though where she got the strength from, I do not know, so can only surmise that he simply wanted to join in and probably helped!) into the pile of grass. By the time our parents arrived on the scene we were having a fantastic grass fight! Michael was ushered inside for a bath and complete change of clothes and his sister was banished to the car for the remainder of the visit, with a promise of what she could expect when she got home! But Michael never suffered with hay fever again!!!
Sadly our Father died some 25 years ago, from Cancer. Then two years ago our Mother was diagnosed with Alzeimers. They can no longer stop us from being cheeky siblings. They always did what they deemed to be right for Michael and his sister. However, both Michael and his sister feel cheated of a normal sibling relationship, as they were both part of separate families which their parents orchestrated. In fact there is not one picture of them together with their parents. Even Michael's 21st birthday at Mote Park Cheshire Home, Maidstone, was celebrated without his sister. It was as if our parents had a family which included just Michael and another that included just his sister. Maybe it was their way of coping with what life had dealt them.
But at least ‘Smelly number one' and ‘Smelly number two' can now come back into the open, and attempt to rekindle the lost years and rebuild the relationship of two normal cheeky siblings.
