The Crucible

I have discussed in previous posts how people in Somerset who knew what was happening to me at the hands of the trafficking gang in north Wales were approached to smear Brown and I. I was told a few weeks ago that ‘evidence’ gathered as a result of these approaches was accumulated by Dafydd et al for the purposes of being used for a ‘forensic psychiatric assessment’ to demonstrate how mad and dangerous I was and to justify my transfer to a secure psychiatric hospital. People not au fait with the mental health system may believe that this cannot happen without the patient facing a trial in Court. Sadly this is untrue. Patients can be transferred to high security hospitals, for life, from low security units on the basis of ‘evidence’ of which the patient is unaware and that has not even been demonstrated to be factual. I have documentation that demonstrates that this is what Dafydd et al were planning for me and that they spent a great deal of time and effort preparing the ground.

I detailed in my post ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’ how in the autumn of 1994 Dafydd made an allegation on the basis of absolutely no evidence at all that I had thrown a rock through the glass door of his house at approx 3 am in the morning. I did not even know that I had been accused of this by the time that Dafydd had told the police that I had done it. Neither was Dafydd in his house when he claimed that the rock had been thrown. The people who were alleged to have been in the house were ‘asleep’ and found the rock the next morning. This allegation then turned up again, accompanied by no evidence at all, in an affidavit which Dafydd swore in at the High Court in Liverpool and was the basis on which he obtained an injunction against me on 3 Nov 1994. See posts ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’ and ‘The Banality Of Evil’.

Since I blogged about the allegation that I threw a rock through Dafydd’s door, I have been told that no rock was thrown by anyone, that the rock was planted and that Dafydd et al knowingly told a pack of lies to the police and to the High Court.

I was well used to Dafydd, Tony Francis and others making the most extraordinary claims about me for which there was not a shred of evidence. I had, according to them, tried to stab people, tried to throttle people and had violently assaulted a whole range of other people. In 1991 Dafydd told Professor Robin Jacobson of St George’s Hospital Medical School/Springfield Hospital that I had broken into his office and behaved in such a manner that Dafydd believed that he would be killed there and then. Goodness knows when this was supposed to have happened, I certainly have no recollection of any such incident, but Jacobson faithfully recorded this as fact and sent the details in a letter to Professor Nigel Eastman of St George’s Hospital Medical School. Yet in the same letter Jacobson made it clear that he knew that Dafydd was sexually exploiting patients and that Jacobson suspected that Tony Francis was as well. See post ‘Some Very Eminent Psychiatrists From London…’.

Some two years ago I found that it had been recorded upon my medical notes that I had ‘sexually assaulted a psychiatrist’. Gobsmacked, I approached the Betsi Cadwaladr University Health Board about this. They admitted that there was no evidence that this had happened and told me that it would be removed from my records. There was no investigation into who had made this claim or how it had ever found its way onto my records and I wouldn’t be surprised if this allegation is still on my records. It was documented upon my medical records some years ago that I ‘had held a nurse hostage’ and that I ‘had been in prison for attacking someone with a knife’. No-one could tell me when and where I’d held this Angel hostage or when I went to prison, where I served my sentence or which judge sentenced me and in which court and how long my sentence was. No-one would agree to rectify my records.

I was told some months ago by an NHS whistleblower that they had witnessed psychiatric nurses gossiping and speculating about patients over cups of tea and fags and on the basis of no evidence at all had drawn the most extraordinary conclusions among a flurry of comments such ‘ooh I bet that’s what happened’, ‘he could have, couldn’t he’ and that this Angelic gossip had then been documented as fact upon patients’ records.

This is pretty much standard practice and as long ago as the mid-1980s when I first began to take an interest in such matters, I was reading case histories in journals involving patients who had been banged up in Broadmoor and other such places for decades on the basis of no more than this sort of speculation and accompanying scare stories. The first such case history that I came across involved a woman who was detained in Broadmoor for years on the grounds that a ‘packet of weedkiller’ had been found in her cabinet and that there were ‘grave suspicions’ that this lady had ‘plans to poison a nurse’. No evidence at all was presented to indicate that any such idea had crossed the patient’s mind, but that was the basis on which she was banged up for decades. I seem to remember that Dafydd’s friend Professor Robert Bluglass was involved in this case. Who knows, that weedkiller may have been planted by the Angel who was in imminent danger of being poisoned, just as that brick that I threw through Dafydd Alun Jones’s door found its way into Jones’s house.

 

I wasn’t intending to blog about the silly tales that were gathered by the paedophiles’ friends from people who knew me in Somerset as a teenager, because it is laughable and ridiculous and to be honest I’m really fed up of hearing about these ludicrous stories that were sent around about me and Brown and I want to get on with blogging about the political Mr Bigs behind the abuses on the part of the welfare services and the associated cover-ups. However, it has been pointed out to me that most people don’t read ethics journals and very few people have any idea that someone can find themselves in a high security hospital labelled ‘dangerous’ simply on the basis of allegations which have not been proved in any court and of which they may well have not even been told were made. I have also been reminded that many of the witnesses to organised child abuse were discredited by such means and I have been asked to highlight what happened in my own case.

I’m not sure of the details of all the crazy allegations that were made about Brown and I, but I have been told that some of the ‘evidence’ gathered by the paedophiles’ friends related to a saga that involved me just before I sat my A levels at Bridgwater College in June 1981.

Bridgwater College was opened in 1979 as a flagship ‘tertiary college’, one of the first in the UK. There was a technical college in Bridgwater for years and then, after the schools in Bridgwater became comprehensives without sixth forms, ‘the tech’ began offering A levels and many of the former grammar school teachers, refusing to work in comprehensive schools, decamped to ‘the tech’ to teach the sixth formers. There was much hostility between the teachers who taught plumbing, mechanics etc and those who taught A levels. The snobbery was rampant, with some of the A level teachers pretending that they were Oxbridge dons who had to tolerate manual workers in their vicinity. This division was still very obvious when Bridgwater College officially became a tertiary college in 1979. I was among the first intake of students to Bridgwater Tertiary College and we all noticed that the two cohorts of lecturers generally hated each other.

By 1979, the Bridgwater schools were in a very sorry state, although I am told that they are now much improved. The best of them was Haygrove School, but that wasn’t up to much either. Many middle class parents in the Bridgwater area sent their kids to schools in Taunton or other locations in their desperation to avoid the Bridgwater schools. I went to Chilton Trinity School and although I knew a variety of kids there well, I can’t remember anyone who actually enjoyed their time at that school. Some kids had a truly horrific time – there was a major bullying problem at Chilton – and a few kids were removed from the school by their parents for the sake of their children’s well-being and mental health. Any representation about the bullying was met by a response from Chilton that it was the child that was the problem, not the school and a small number of teachers joined in with the victimisation of certain kids.

In addition there was dreadful strife at Chilton because the staff universally loathed the Headmaster, a man called W.C. Francis, known to some of us as ‘Willie Franco’, after the Spanish dictator who was still much in the news in those days. There were demands from a whole variety of locals for Franco to resign and representations were made to Somerset Education Authority by a great many people, but Franco refused to go. Franco was Welsh and was alleged to be running a rather odd sort of mafia, involving the promotion of his fellow Welshmen working at the school. I did notice this. There were some staggeringly mediocre teachers who would suddenly be given promotion and yes, most of them were Welsh. However I suspect that what really endeared them to Franco was that they were incompetent. It was noticeable that the best teachers got nowhere and were openly treated with disrespect by some of their colleagues.

The bad feeling towards Franco was so great that most of the teachers at Chilton resigned from one of the unions – I think the NUT – because they refused to belong to the same union as Franco. He certainly was pretty awful. Chilton had a lot of kids from difficult backgrounds and a good many who were undoubtedly being abused in various ways. Although Franco professed to be a socialist – I think that he might have been a Labour Councillor as well, although he lived in the Highbridge area, not Bridgwater – he identified the kids with no home support and belittled and bullied them in public.

Willie Franco did not like me and neither did his acolytes. I never had enough money for new clothes and one day he carried out a vindictive attack on me in public, telling me that I looked appalling and I had to be one of the scruffiest people in the school. I responded that he was in no position to level such allegations at someone else, he was no snappy dresser himself. (One observation made by parents constantly was that Franco looked dreadful. He was enormously overweight, wore cheap and not in the least bit clean clothes which did not fit him and insisted on wearing an academic gown which had a massive rip in it.) Franco hit the roof and I was suspended from school and told that I could not return until I had written him an apology. I wrote the apology but ensured that I included a few lines about the hypocrisy of a man who believed that he was a socialist, ran a predominantly working class school but was suspending pupils who could not afford the uniform. I also mentioned that bullying, stealing and vandalism were rife at the school yet went unacknowledged.

Franco really went ballistic then. I was told by another teacher that I ‘had told the truth and truth hurts’ and that I should have known that. Er, in the same way that a middle aged man on a good income should have known that school girls do not control the household income and if they are not given the funds for new clothes, they won’t have new clothes.

I was then ordered to be taken to Franco’s office, in the company of a teacher to apologise IN PERSON. Franco refused to speak to me and walked out of the building when he saw me arriving. No-one could deny at that point that the chaos was the result of Franco rather than me, so I was then told that I could return to lessons.

Days later, Franco surpassed himself with regard to another pupil, one of my friends. He grabbed hold of her – she had been cheeky to him, because guess what, he had insulted her – and pushed her out of the door saying ‘you come from a disgusting family and I don’t want you in my school’. She was too frightened to go home to her parents and tell them what had happened and instead ended up in a house of sexually exploitative older men after running away and then tried to kill herself. It should have been enough for Franco to have been sacked but no, it was like a vicar or a Top Doctor caught red-handed, Franco was going nowhere.

I and my other pal had witnessed what Franco had done to our friend and we knew that the shit really had hit the fan behind the scenes after she tried to kill herself. By then, it was the summer of 1979, we had finished O levels and were waiting to begin our A levels at Bridgwater College.

When we arrived at Bridgwater College, we found that some of the lecturers were very prejudiced towards kids whom they perceived to be ‘Somerset’ (ie. working class) and that there were not many pupils from Chilton doing A levels. Most of the A level students were from Haygrove, the exam results from Chilton, Sydenham and Blake schools being so bad that their pupils were usually refused places to do A levels. I of course had also arrived at Bridgwater College with what Brown described ironically as ‘a silver tongued reference from W.C. Francis’.

Some of the teachers at Bridgwater College did fight the sack of prejudices that W.C. Francis had sent along with students like me, but others didn’t. The biggest nightmare was the A level biology teacher, Pam Sellars, who just hated us and made it clear that she didn’t want students from Chilton or indeed students with Somerset accents in her class. Sellars was such a notorious problem that some of the other lecturers actually did stand up for us as she repeatedly attacked me and certain other students. The Head of the Science Dept was a man called C.A. Street, who was left to deal with the problems caused by Sellars who, like Franco, was fully protected by Somerset Education Authority. She was as obnoxious to C.A. as she was to us, so I cannot imagine that he had an easy job. My perception was always that C.A. was very good to me. He was well aware that I was being singled out by Sellars and he did defend me.

I have been told that Dafydd et al got hold of information either from C.A. or involving C.A. and were planning to use it as ‘evidence’ to demonstrate my insanity and dangerousness. I don’t want to accuse C.A., because I don’t know if the ‘evidence’ actually came from him, or from someone else. The information that Dafydd et al seemed to have been given involved a massive row that I got into with the authorities at Bridgwater College just before I sat my A levels.

Just weeks before A levels, I was in the library at Bridgwater College with my friends and other students who were chatting and making a racket. For once, I wasn’t. I was actually revising. Unfortunately, a librarian called Molly was on duty, who was a good mate of Pam Sellars’s. Molly marched in and ordered me to leave, on the grounds that I was causing a rumpus and ‘she’d heard much about me’. I was outraged and refused to leave. The other students told Molly that I had not even been talking. Molly strutted off. Within 30 minutes, the Deputy Principal arrived in the library. He was a new appointment to the ‘flagship college’, a man called Graham Bishop. He simply walked up to me and told me to get out of the library. I asked him why and he repeated his order to get out without any explanation. I refused. He went purple, turned around and left. Within twenty minutes, a smug looking Molly arrived clutching a note, which she gave to me. It told me to go to the Principal’s office that afternoon at 4 pm.

The Principal of Bridgwater College was a man called J.C. Miles. The citizens of Bridgwater saw him as being a cut above most of them, because he wrote poetry. I don’t know much about J.C. Miles, other than that he was a philosophy graduate and must have had at least some standing in the world of FE.

When the message arrived for me to go to see JC Miles, the student who had actually been making the noise that Molly complained about went to Graham Bishop’s office and confessed. She told him exactly what she had been doing and confirmed that I had been revising and had not been involved. Bishop told her that he could see that ‘she was a sensible girl’, but ‘Sally has a background that you might not know about’. My friend did know about the ‘background’ – the background was Chilton school, W.C. Francis, my friend trying to commit suicide and prior to that my father getting so fed up with the shite academic standards at Chilton and their endless bellyaching over idiocies such as me not wearing the uniform that he had a row with them and told them that if this didn’t stop I would not be attending school, I’d study at home. Chilton told him that they would prosecute him, so he reminded them of a few laws that they were breaking. My parents were not prosecuted and I studied for my O levels at home for the final few weeks of ‘school’.

Bishop did not tell JC Miles that ‘the sensible girl’ had been to see him and had fessed up. So I arrived at JC Miles’s office later that afternoon and received a bollocking for ‘riding roughshod over Mr Bishop’, ‘abusing the library facilities’ and was told that I was now suspended from College. I started crying, because by then I was totally fed up with the constant aggro and baseless accusations from Pam Sellars and her mates and I yelled ‘but I haven’t done anything, it was Clare and she has told Mr Bishop that it was her’. JC Miles looked mortified and said ‘I wasn’t told that’. So I told him to speak to Clare and Bishop for confirmation. By now, I had missed the last bus back to my house, so JC Miles ended up giving me a lift home. He changed his approach completely, he was friendly, chatty, talked about university and poetry and we discussed Descartes. When he dropped me off, he told me to go and see him again the following week, because he would ‘take a personal interest’ in my progress.

When I next went into College, it was all over that I had been spotted by the caretaker – a friend of Pam Sellars’s – being escorted off the premises and herded into JC Miles’s car. So it was even a bigger shock when everyone found out that I hadn’t been put in prison, I had been given a lift home and had enjoyed a conversation about philosophy.

Graham Bishop never came near me again, although I did not receive an apology. I sat my A levels a few weeks later and ended up doing quite well in them. Indeed the biggest laugh of all was that I was one of the highest performers, my name appeared in the ‘Bridgwater Mercury’ and when JC Miles went to give a speech at Chilton school in September, he mentioned their former star pupil, me. I was, I understand, described by JC Miles as ‘a very nice girl’.

Now then Dafydd, WHERE did this account of my insanity at Bridgwater College come from? I had no more contact with the Bridgwater College lecturers after I was declared – ON STAGE IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE! – to be a ‘very nice girl’.

JC Miles is now dead, so we can’t ask him. Graham Bishop, while I was still at university I think, became the Principal of some sort of educational establishment outside of Somerset, but I can’t remember where. C.A. will have retired years ago and the last that I heard, he had moved away from Somerset.

 

Here’s a bit more context regarding why I have been asked to publicise this utter silliness.

There was at least one teacher at Chilton who was known to be abusing children. His misconduct was ignored. His wife had formerly been married to a leading light in the Tory Party in Somerset and when she was younger her difficulties were such that she had a child who was removed from her care. Her husband, would you believe, made a bet with another teacher when I was still at that school, that I would ‘end up as a prostitute, in prison or in a mental hospital’.

Can readers guess who those worms were in contact with? They knew where I had gone to university, because one of them, unbelievably, had posed as a friend to me, my father and my uncle and had kept in contact with us after I moved to north Wales. He split up from his wife after I left Somerset and remarried a truly vile PE teacher from Chilton. I was told that they were caught having sex together in the gym on one occasion. I received an e mail from this man’s daughter the other day, demanding to know why I had described her father as a ‘nasty wolf in sheep’s clothing’ on this blog. She has been given the full details behind my rationale, which I will not be publishing on this blog.

Now. Anyone want to make any more statements about me being dangerous? Or are you all going to shut up at last?

 

I have been told that there was an abuse ring operating in Somerset when I lived there. It wasn’t anything like as bad as the ring in north Wales, but I am told that there definitely was one, that it was linked with the gang in north Wales and rings in other parts of the country and the whole bloody lot of them got together when I refused to shut up about Gwynne the lobotomist and Dafydd because they feared that Brown and I would blow the whole thing open.

I mentioned on a previous post that when I was twelve, I used to visit a farm worker who lived down the lane and help him with his goats. I have been told that he was a paedophile. He never touched me or attempted to, but he did say some things that he probably should not have said to a 12 yr old. As an adult I take the view that he was probably a rather sad man and I’m not going to exaggerate any of his actions. He was however dealing in drugs and I’ve been told that some of those who visited his house were undercover officers and that I was filmed in his house. Because policing priorities were drugs, this man’s interest in me was ignored. He left Somerset when I was 14 and went to live in Wales. I have no idea where. I have been told that he had a connection to the paedophile rings in Wales and when I fell into the hands of Dafydd et al, my link to this man was known and noted.

I couldn’t imagine why this man, Stuart, would have been one of Dafydd’s gang. Stuart was a farm worker, there’d be no rich pickings for Dafydd with Stuart. However Brown has told me that gangs employ ‘spotters’ and Stuart might have been one of them. Furthermore, although Stuart never tried to molest me, the drug squad in Somerset was utterly corrupt and Brown suggested that Stuart may have been working for corrupt officers, or began working for them to save his own skin and that might be why he gave my name to the gang in Wales.

One thing that has occurred to me now that I’ve been told that info relating my time at Bridgwater College was gathered by Dafydd et al, was the horror of JC Miles and other Bridgwater big wigs at events in 1981 at the ‘Bridgwater College discos’ in the Town Hall. The discos did originate with Bridgwater College, but they also proved popular among other people, including a group of exploitative young men who began attending the discos to pick up younger girls. These young men used to hang out in a pub called the Mansion House in Bridgwater. They were in their mid-20s to early-30s and had been kicked out of polys and universities so returned to Bridgwater to impress the teenagers with their knowledge of the world. They weren’t what I would consider to be sex offenders, they were just a bit daft and pretentious, but on their heels came some really dodgy characters. Things began getting more and more out of hand at the discos, until at one, there was literally a gang bang in the bogs, held by a 15 yr old girl who was what would now be described as a victim of grooming. The gang bang turned into a violent punch-up when it was discovered that one of the men in the queue was the teenager’s ‘boyfriend’. The ensuing scene was quite something for Bridgwater, the police arrived and could hardly believe what had been going on and local people were horrified at what ‘Bridgwater College students’ had been doing. There were hardly any Bridgwater College students at the disco in question, the students had stopped attending because the events had been hijacked by roughnecks.

Poor old JC Miles couldn’t cope at all with the thought that the name of Bridgwater College had been associated with such an event and the discos were stopped. So then ‘Town Hall discos’ were held, which really were something…

 

Knowing Dafydd, I expect that he drafted a statement in which it was stated that I had organised the gang bang. Well I’m sorry to disappoint you Dafydd, but I wasn’t even there. One of my friends was, which was how I heard about it. I have been to about eight discos in my entire life. One was at Fiddington Village Hall, one was at Holford Youth Club, one was at Cannington Village Hall, one was the birthday party of a friend at Bridgwater College and the others were parties at Bangor University. So it is plain just what a life of disco-heavy excess that I have led.

 

The ‘sensible girl’ with whom I was friends at Bridgwater College went to study medicine at the Welsh National School of Medicine in Cardiff and is now a consultant surgeon. I lost touch with her after Dafydd et al came after me. There are suspicions that they nobbled her, but I have not been given evidence. She did know about, even as a medical student, serious wrongdoing at the University Hospital, Cardiff, as did the man who later became her brother-in-law, who was also a medical student at the Welsh National School of Medicine. Brown’s best friend from Haygrove/Bridgwater College became a Top Doctor as well, he went to Westminster Hospital Medical School and now works as a Top Doctor in Somerset. I really do hope that those two friends of ours did not become corrupted, they definitely were not when they entered medical school.

Another student from Bridgwater College who knew me but only vaguely – he was in the year below me – went to do medicine at Southampton and is now a consultant obstetrician/gynaecologist, Bruce Ramsay. He was friends with one of the Top Doctors who was working at St George’s when I worked there, that particular Top Doctor becoming notorious after he told one of my colleagues that ‘I don’t have sex with medical students because it isn’t a woman’s place to be a doctor, I just have sex with nurses’.

‘Ah, your life in their hands, the doctors and nurses they were wonderful.’

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I have been told that there are concerns that Bruce Ramsay may have been involved in smearing me, but I have been given no firm evidence that he did. Bruce Ramsay will certainly remember Pam Sellars, him pointing out her numerous mistakes in front of the rest of the class provided endless entertainment for her victims.

I have mentioned previously on this blog that a number of girls whom I knew at school and Bridgwater College went into nursing. I have been told that some of them knew what happened to me in north Wales and that possibly, one of them, Ruth Moore, used the information for her own benefit. Ruth’s family lived in the same village as Brown’s parents and knew Brown’s mum well. I wrote to Ruth for a few years after we left Somerset. The last letter that I wrote to Ruth was written just after I’d been forced out of my job at St George’s, when Dafydd et al were in full cry. Ruth had just got married and was living near Nottingham. Where of course I had encountered massive research fraud and wrongdoing just three years previously (see post ‘Oh Lordy, It’s CR UK’). Ruth was working as a nurse tutor by then, which was a bit weird because when we wrote to each other before I went to work for the Cancer Research Campaign Laboratories at  Nottingham University, Ruth told me that she’d had enough of nursing, that there was much wrong with the profession and that she was going to go into primary teaching. Ruth trained at one of the London hospitals which was crawling with corruption – I think it was either Hammersmith or Great Ormond Street Hospital.

Ruth is now ‘Network Manager/Lead Nurse at Staffordshire, Shropshire & Black Country Neonatal Operational Delivery Network’. That’s the Staffordshire/Shropshire/Black Country which hosted an paedophile gang with links to Dafydd and of course the Staffordshire which has the lethal, dangerous NHS. Ruth’s Linked In indicates that she’s come a long way since she received my last letter in 1991:

University of Derby, BSc Advanced Nursing Practice, 1999-01; Acting Senior Educator, Nottingham Neonatal Service, 2000-02; Mid-Trent Neonatal Network Practice Development Co-Ordinator, 2002-04.

In 2012, Ruth-less did a Masters course at Birmingham City University in the Social Care Assessment of Vulnerable Wimmin!

Would you like Brown and me to send you some of our publications on the ways in which the NHS and social care services assist and collude with the abuse of vulnerable wimmin Ruth-less?

 

Other observations re my days at Bridgwater College. At one point, one of the lecturers asked one of my friends if she’d like a babysitting job, because he had friends who wanted a babysitter. She said yes and began babysitting. After a few weeks she told me that she was really worried, because the man whom she was baby sitting for – who was married – had starting making moves towards her and had made it very clear that he expected sex as well as babysitting from her. She had decided that she was going to leave the job, but didn’t know whether she ought to tell the lecturer who had sought her out to babysit. She wasn’t under 16, but she did feel massively pressurised and she had no idea whether the Bridgwater College lecturer knew that his friend did this sort of thing. I don’t think that she did ever tell the lecturer what his friend expected in addition to the babysitting.

There was one married lecturer at Bridgwater College who had a relationship with a student, not a mature student either. JC Miles was horrified and told him to end it. The lecturer concerned didn’t like JC Miles, continued the relationship and from then on was as rude as possible in public to JC Miles. Bridgwater was a small place and the wife of the lecturer concerned was known to many staff and students and was incredibly upset about her husband’s conduct.

 

Not long after I left Bridgwater College, a new member of staff arrived who later became a big name in education. I never met her, but I heard a lot about her because Brown’s mum at one point was working as a lecturer for the summer schools at Bridgwater College and knew this person quite well. The person in question was a domestic science teacher called Maxine Room. Brown’s mum maintained that Maxine was a real problem. She was a work-place bully, she toadied to powerful people – by this time, Bridgwater College had expanded greatly, so it would be worth Maxine’s while ingratiating herself to people at the top of the organisation – and Maxine was not above lying to the senior managers for her own gain. There were also suspicions that Maxine was either having a relationship with one of her bosses or allowing him to think that she would be available for one. The thing that really pissed Brown’s mum off was that Maxine was such a princess that the whole summer school timetable had to be planned for Maxine’s convenience, Maxine refusing to work weekends or evenings. So Brown’s mum had to do those slots. Maxine also enjoyed making comments about a lady of Mrs Brown’s learning driving such an old wreck of a car.

I forgot all about Maxine Room until about ten years ago when a friend who was working at an incredibly troubled FE college in Keighley told me that the college had now been merged and was part of a super-college and the new Principal used to work at Bridgwater College. It was Maxine. I rolled around laughing and said ‘that’s the cookery teacher who was so awful to Brown’s mum’. Imagine my surprise when my friend said that Maxine was well-connected with New Labour in Westminster and was expected to end up as Lady Maxine. I got out the smelling salts at that point. The new super-college was highly dysfunctional and was mired in scandal within months but it didn’t stop Maxine. Maxine bagged another job, as the Principal of an even bigger super-college in Lewisham. It was after that when the wheels came off Maxine’s bandwagon. Maxine hit the headlines of the educational press as the first super-head of an FE college to lose her job after a truly terrible inspection report.

I googled Maxine a while ago. She was calling herself Dr Maxine Room – she shouldn’t have been, because she only had an honorary doctorate – and had of course set up her own ‘consultancy’. Upon receiving her honorary doctorate from Bristol University, Maxine gave an inspiring speech about being an inspirational Black Woman Leader who’s old mum and gran told her that education was the route to success so Little Black Maxine became a cookery teacher. Maxine’s narrative was a sort of less traumatised version of that of Constance Briscoe aka Miss Pissabed, an Inspirational Black Woman friend of Michael Mansfield’s, who was the First Inspirational Black Woman Judge in the UK who specialised in child protection and mental health and who subsequently went to prison for perverting the course of justice.

Maxine now features on the website of the Helena Kennedy Foundation, which tells us that:

Maxine is an experienced Chief Executive and strategic leader who was appointed Principal and Chief Executive of Lewisham College in September 2009. Lewisham College was awarded Learning and Skills Beacon status in 2004 and gained a Beacon Award for the strength of its links with employers in 2007.

Previously Maxine held the post of Principal and Chief Executive of Park Lane College, Leeds. Followings its merger with Keighley College in 2007, this college grew to over 38000 students.  Maxine was instrumental in instigating the merger of three colleges in Leeds to form the Leeds City College and became the Principal of Park Lane Campus, Leeds City College before moving to Lewisham. Prior to taking up the post in Leeds, Maxine was Principal of Swansea College.

Maxine has always worked in further education and is passionate about education, training and skills and equality and diversity.  She has a vast experience of the business of further education including curriculum and quality, employer engagement, community development, merger and capital build.   Maxine’s career started in teaching at Bridgwater College, Somerset and progressed to management roles there and at Filton College, Bristol before taking up the post at Swansea. As a Principal of a large inner-city college serving a diverse and multi-cultural population, Maxine represents the institution on a number of groups and Boards including the 157 Group, London Capital Colleges and is a Board member for the Northern Ballet Theatre.  Maxine is a mentor for the Black Leadership Initiative.

So it’s the usual story of Inspirational Leadership then:

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I keep forgetting one major factor whenever people tell me that what happened during my days in Somerset did matter when Dafydd et al came after me. It is that Gary Glitter lived in Somerset for a long time, he lived at Wedmore. Gary Glitter was known to be abusing children for years before the law caught up with him and it wasn’t that Gary Glitter was having sex with girls two days before their 16th birthdays either. Gary Glitter committed serious offences against girls as young as eight. I used to hear stories from Somerset about Gary Glitter having traumas and attempting suicide. I am wondering if, as in the case of George Thomas aka Lord Tonypandy, Gary Glitter’s distress was linked to enquiries about his activities with children and his fears that he was about to be caught.

Dafydd’s mate and protector Professor Robert Owen (see post ‘In Memoriam – Professor Robert Owen’) had a daughter who lived/lives in Somerset, not that far from Wedmore and Ian Dunbar, the tame Prison Service Regional Director who was used to conceal the fact that Risley Remand Centre was full of kids from the north Wales children’s homes and Dafydd’s patients when the Risley riot broke out in 1989, also lived on the Somerset levels, not a million miles away from Wedmore (see post ‘Include Me Out’).

 

 

I need to mention Bath as well. Bath was always much grander than the rest of Somerset and was inhabited by celebs, city gents and the seriously rich, long before the rest of Somerset became gentrified. Bath saw action in 1983, because it was the location of the family home of Sara Keays, Cecil Parkinson’s secretary and mistress. Parkinson resigned as Trade Secretary in Oct 1983, after it became public that Sara was expecting his baby.

Sara had been in a twelve year relationship with Parkinson and was a fully paid up Tory herself when she was unceremoniously dumped by Parkinson after she refused to have an abortion, as requested by Parkinson who had previously voted to restrict abortion rights. Sara had hoped to become a Tory MP and I think that her father, Colonel Hastings Keays, was an active Tory as well.

It was later revealed that Parkinson was going to leave his wife for Sara, but it was Thatch who persuaded him not to. Thatch banged on about Cecil’s ‘poor wife’ – well there was also a ‘poor mistress’, someone was going to get hurt unless Cecil took up polygamy which would have been rather more honourable than what he did end up doing – but it was widely suspected that Thatch was desperate not to lose old Cecil from her inner circle and wanted him back in the Cabinet again asap.

Cecil was indeed rehabilitated. On 13 June 1987 he was appointed Energy Secretary, a post he retained until 24 July 1989. One of Cecil’s Ministers at Energy was Sir Peter Morrison, who was at the time abusing kids in care in north Wales and in other locations (see post ‘These Sharks Are Crap As Well’). Cecil was then Secretary of State for Transport, 24 July 1989-28 Nov 1990. When William Hague became leader of the Tory Party in June 1997 – just over a year after Hague orchestrated the cover-up which was the Waterhouse Inquiry – he appointed Parkinson as Chairman of the Conservative Party, a post Parkinson held until June 1998. So Parkinson was Party Chairman while Ronnie Waterhouse took evidence from witnesses to the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal and called them liars and while Dafydd and the gang busted a gut to frame me for an offence and then have me transferred to Jimmy Savile’s place of employment! Cecil Parkinson had previously been Party Chairman, 14 Sept 1981-11 June 1983.

Cecil Parkinson was an active Freemason.

  • Strange but true

 

Thatch and Sara Keays believed that Parkinson was an ‘attractive, charming man’.

Cecil Parkinson

  • Strange but true

 

Parkinson might have been in need of a bit more Brylcreem, he hadn’t quite equalled Gwynne the lobotomist or Ronnie Waterhouse.

 

The Keays family went into a state of shock at their treatment at the hands of Parkinson and the wider Tory Party – they were subjected to an intense smear campaign by the Party and by the Tory-supporting press. Sara’s baby Flora was born quite severely disabled. Parkinson refused to ever see Flora and never communicated with her or sent her birthday cards etc.

At the time of the revelation of Parkinson’s relationship with Sara Keays in 1983, Parkinson made much of what he described as ‘the volume of letters in support’ that he received. As numerous members of the Conservative Party attacked Keays, Edwina Currie said ‘I feel very very sorry for Cecil and his family. Most of my thoughts on Sara Keays are unprintable. Perhaps the most polite thing to say is she’s a right cow’.

Well Edwina, I wouldn’t have gone public like Sara did, domestic scraps like that are best conducted in private, but as someone who spent a considerable time shagging John Major while you were both married to other people yet preaching monogamy to the rest of the world – ‘Back To Basics’ anyone? – and more importantly as someone who knew that Peter Morrison was molesting children and that because of this, the lives of a group of young people who were witness to Dafydd et al were destroyed to save a few reputations that were most definitely not worth saving, I’m not sure that you were in a position to denounce anyone as a cow.

Edwina was also at the scene of the crime when her colleague in the Dept of Health, Trumpers, appointed Jimmy Savile to a management position in Broadmoor, a position for which Edwina knew that Savile was unsuitable (see post ‘Socio-Political Context Of The North Wales Mental Health Services In The 1980s’). However Edwina is on record as saying that although Savile was a nasty piece of work, he did promise Thatcher’s Gov’t that he’d threaten and blackmail the Angels staffing Broadmoor into ceasing their massive fiddles and embezzling.

Why might those Angels at Broadmoor have been so uncontrollable? Er, how about the knowledge that they would have had that many of their ‘dangerous’ patients were nothing of the sort but were people who had been molested by social workers, Top Docs, celebrities and even politicians?

 

In 2002, Channel 4 made a documentary about Sara and Flora, in which Flora spoke about the father who refused to have anything to do with her. If I was Sara I wouldn’t have wasted my breath telling Flora about the old hypocrite, whatever use would a father like him have been. I’m not sure that Cecil was much more use to the children whom he fathered with his wife whom he did acknowledge. One of their daughters, Mary, developed serious drug problems and became involved in prostitution. She was found dead last year, at 57 yrs old.

 

The artist Graham Ovenden who was eventually jailed for a series of sexual assaults on children ( see post ‘The Village’) founded the movement The Brotherhood of Ruralists, some of whom were based in Somerset, including in the Bath area.

 

The MP for Bath, 1979-92, was Chris Patten aka Lord Patten of Barnes, who’s many conflicts of interest have previously been detailed on this blog. The good burghers of Bath must have seen through Patten eventually because in 1992, they voted in the Lib Dem Don Foster instead.

Don Foster’s biography is as incriminating as Chris Patten’s. Foster was born in Preston and attended the Lancaster Royal Grammar School before studying at that hotbed of paedophiles and their friends, Keele University, graduating in 1969. Foster received the Cert Ed in the same year and  received an MEd from Bath University in 1981.

Don Foster was a science teacher at Sevenoaks School in Kent in 1969, before his appointment as Avon Education Authority’s Science Project Director in 1975 and as a Lecturer in Education at  Bristol University in 1980, before being engaged as a management consultant with Pannell Kerr Forster, from 1989 until his election to the Commons.

Foster was a founder member of the Avon Liberal Democrats and was elected as a Councillor on Avon County Council in 1981. He was the SDP-Liberal Alliance Group Leader, 1981–86. Don also served as the county’s Education Committee Chairman and remained a Councillor until 1989.

Dr Death was personally known to some of the Top Docs in north Wales who were facilitating the abuse gang.

Foster was the Liberal Democrat Spokesman for Education under the leadership of Paddy Ashdown, 1992-99.

Paddy knew about Jeremy Thorpe, about Cyril Smith and almost certainly others. Paddy knew at least one person from Somerset who knew what happened to me in north Wales (see post ‘Those Who Are Ready To Serve’).

In Jan 2014 Don Foster announced that he would stand down as an MP at the following General Election.

Foster’s is a member of Amnesty and the Child Poverty Action Group, both causes which attract paedophiles’ friends and he is also a supporter of WaterAid. 

Foster was nominated for a peerage in 2015, despite having previously favoured abolition of the Lords. When accused of hypocrisy, Foster stated: ‘I want to get rid of [the House of Lords] and the only way [to do that]…is having people there who will do just that.’

Well you’re all doing a fantastic job of getting the Lords a dreadful reputation Don, but there’s no sign of it actually disappearing off the face of the earth yet. Why not invite Dafydd to join you all in there, you might as well take it to extremes. 

 

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Previous posts have mentioned that Bristol was a hot-spot for paedophiles’ friends, what with Dr DGE Wood’s family of Top Doctors being based there and Wood himself being an alumnus of Bristol University, along with Lord David Hunt, who is a Bristol law graduate and who spent a few years post-graduation involved in Tory politics in the West Country.

We should not forget that other Top Doctor, Liam Fox, who has been the Tory MP for north Somerset since 1992. Liam’s more questionable activities, including those with Adam Werritty, which no-one ever quite got to the bottom of, have featured previously on this blog. I am more interested in Fox serving as PPS to Home Secretary Michael Howard, June 1993-94. It was during that time that Michael Howard ruined Mary Wynch, after Mary had won her case against Dafydd et al  (see post ‘The Mary Wynch Case – Details’). Michael Howard must have been really impressed with Liam’s abilities, because when Howard was leader, Liam Fox was Chairman of the Tory Party, 2003-05. When the paedophiles’ friends had yet another go at imprisoning me, this time for ‘threatening to kill’. No evidence once again, just at least eight NHS staff perjuring themselves. The case collapsed on the first day of the trial. Nonetheless, the corrupt judge Huw Daniel issued a restraining order against me that was unlawful and legally invalid. He also told lies to the press and those lies were faithfully repeated in the media. Days after the case collapsed, someone forged a certificate of indictment stating that I’d pleaded guilty to ‘violent disorder’. The PNC was also unlawfully amended to show a fabricated criminal record against my name. There was an attempt to strike me off the teaching register, but a junior Minister cleared my name. He was subsequently named in the media as ‘having let paedophiles remain on the teaching register’. There has been no investigation into any of this.

Liam Fox is a member of the Royal College of GPs. With whom Dr DGE Wood has held senior office for decades.

Michael Howard is a barrister from west Wales, where a trafficking gang linked to Dafydd’s gang operated. Howard is married to the former model Sandra Paul. Who, in her heyday, socialised with many of the celebs and VIPs who were known to be utilising the services of vulnerable young people working in the sex industry. Sandra’s first husband was Robin Douglas-Home, the nephew of the former PM Alec Douglas-Home. Robin’s affair with Princess Margaret took place at the time of his split from Sandra. Robin committed suicide three years after his fling with Princess Margaret (see post ‘An Appalling Vista’). Margaret’s husband Lord Snowdon was the bisexual, drug using son of a Welsh Top Doctor. Snowdon used to visit the Caernarfon area and it is alleged that when he was younger he used the services of rent boys. When he was elderly, Snowdon’s mistress was Marjorie Wallace, the Top Doc’s wife and ‘mental health campaigner’ who’s campaigning was directed at incarcerating dangerous mental patients and ensuring that Top Doctors involved in the abuse of vulnerable people were allowed to continue unhindered. I wrote to Marjorie giving her full details of the abuses at the North Wales Hospital Denbigh in the late 1980s. I did not receive a reply. See post ‘One Dangerous Fucker’.

 

I have been told that it might be worth mentioning the names of two other people who were at Bridgwater College with me, although no-one has told me that they were used to smear me. The concern is that Neil Hamilton, Aberystwyth law graduate and the Tory MP for Tatton, 1983-97, who socialised with Sir Peter Morrison and who lost his seat after the Ian Greer Associates lobbying scandal – with which Morrison was also involved – may have encountered them. The two students were Sally Sparks and Christine Skeats, who both went to Hatfield Poly in the early 1980s, while Hamilton taught there. Christine went into teaching and I think that she is now a Headteacher in England somewhere. Christine’s mum knew Brown’s mum, they lived in the same village and it is likely that Christine might have known what was happening to me as Dafydd et al did everything possible to protect Peter Morrison…

 

I have mentioned before on this blog that I have been asked by people what the illness that I experienced which took me into the hands of the paedophiles’ friends actually was. I am of the opinion that when I was much younger, I had a fairly serious mood disorder of a stereotypical, near text-book type. It was never managed properly because the Top Doctors had no interest in treating patients, they were far too busy running a trafficking gang. It was Brown who looked after me during my bouts of severe depression, without him I would have died. I believe that I could have been up and functioning properly again years before I eventually was, but because I was caused so much distress by a bunch of gangsters, I just was never given the breathing space to recover. When I finally walked away from them – after I realised that it was only a matter of time before they either succeeded in having me imprisoned or killed me – within two years I had a PhD and I then acquired an impressive publication list as a result of six or so years working as a researcher at Bangor University. My life was destroyed all over again when I was subjected to an unprovoked violent assault which resulted in me being injured by someone whom I was told was the daughter of a Welsh barrister who was well-known for this sort of thing, ‘but her dad gets her out of trouble every time’.

My life wasn’t destroyed by the assault, it was destroyed because when I went to Aberystwyth Police Station to report the assault, the police called a paramedic to assess my injury. Unfortunately the police had seen on their computerised record that I ‘had a history of mental illness’, so the paramedic called a fucking Top Doctor and a mental health team ‘just in case’. Who refused to document my injuries and sectioned me, insisting that I be taken to the Heddfan Unit at Wrexham Maelor Hospital. Some hours after I arrived at the Heddfan Unit, the staff there sheepishly admitted that my detention was unlawful because no-one had signed the documentation and I was thus free to go. So I did. For some unfathomable reason, the Heddfan Unit then called the police, reported me missing and my mugshot appeared in the ‘Daily Post’ as an escaped patient. I was located ‘safe and well’ – I was actually on holiday – only to find that a few days later I was reported AGAIN by the Betsi as an ‘escaped patient’. I appeared once more in the ‘Daily Post’ and was picked up by the police. Because I was an escaped patient. It took me a year to get out of the clutches of the maniacs who broke the law repeatedly and maintained that I was ‘seriously mentally ill’ because I had a history of ‘violent assaults on people’ and I believed that there was a paedophile ring in operation in north Wales and that the mental health services were abusing patients. While I sat in a locked ward, a whole series of people who had been involved with the paedophile ring in north Wales were convicted as a result of Operation Pallial. The Betsi was also placed under investigation as a result of the abuse of mental health patients in Tawel Fan. When I finally got away from the clutches of the Top Doctors, I fled the area.

The barrister’s daughter who attacked and injured me in broad daylight in front of witnesses was never even interviewed.

Previous posts tell the story in detail…

The irony is that I had my first major depressive episode when I was 17 and at Bridgwater College. Everyone ignored it and it was Brown who helped me through it. Offers of ‘help’ for my ‘serious mental illness’ only began arriving thick and fast a few years later when I complained about the dreadful behaviour of Top Doctors who were running a trafficking ring. The ‘help’ being deemed to be necessary of course being a few years in Broadmoor. After all, everyone could testify that even as a teenager at Bridgwater College, I’d been quite mad…

Let’s just stop all the help shall we? It’ll be much easier all round. I was an academically able kid who went to a dysfunctional, failing school run by an utter incompetent and staffed by some at least who were abusers and I got to university against what were fairly high odds in those days. When my father heard that my name had been announced at Chilton Trinity School as a successful old pupil, he noted that I had got to university in spite of Chilton, not because of it. He was quite right. And I am still alive in spite of the dear old NHS, not because of it. A great many people received generous salaries in schools, in colleges and in their various roles in the welfare state to provide me with a ‘service’. Brown and a few other friends did virtually everything that those salaried people were paid to do.

Just after graduation, I sat in a sitting room on Anglesey with some other new graduates discussing politics. A dedicated Labour voter was in the room, a big fan of the Windbag, who stated that ‘money ought to be poured into the NHS and state schools’. The person who said that was Sarah Jenkins, who had just graduated from Bristol University. Sarah was back on her home territory of north Wales, while she waited for a place to do clinical psychology. She was renting accommodation on favourable terms from her mother’s friend, Dr D.G.E. Wood, the corrupt GP who was facilitating the trafficking ring. Sarah’s dad was Prof David Jenkins, who worked at Bangor University when the place was run by the paedophiles’ friends and Dafydd. Sarah’s mother was Sheila Jenkins, a psychiatric social worker, who was one of those abusing patients and a colleague of the paedophile gang. I was told a few years ago that Sarah ‘had gone into mental health like her mother and was helping people’.

The appalling Sheila Jenkins died a few years ago. She had a miserable last few years, after being left completely paralysed by a stroke. One day her friend went over and found Sheila Jenkins lying on the floor crying. It transpired that the ‘carers’ had been abusing her. Jenkins asked her friend ‘why can’t people just be kind to each other?’ Jenkins’s friend was also a mental health social worker, as was her husband. They had worked with Dafydd when he was illegally imprisoning victims of the paedophile ring in the dungeon at Denbigh. Those in the dungeon probably wondered why people just couldn’t be kind to each other.

As ye sow, so shall ye reap paedophiles’ friends. You’ve driven every decent person out of health and social care. These are the only ones left in the system:

 

Weekend Warriors | Busiestbodies's Blog

 

Get pouring, fill that trough, Sarah Jenkins needs a salary, she’s not going to be an Empowered Service User is she.

 

Investigating historical child abuse? Oh please, just give it a rest. As the Old Gits used to say on ‘The Fast Show’, ‘piss off, bugger off, sod off’.

 

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BMA Calling, BMA Calling

The ‘Morning Star’ is looking forward to the 70th anniversary of the NHS – it’s on 30 June. I knew that it was approaching, because the Sunday Service on Radio 4 yesterday was dedicated to dear old Nye’s vision and whoever it was who was leading the service mentioned the 70th anniversary. The service came from Bart’s, which was of course where Dafydd’s mate Prof Linford Rees worked. Linford’s endearing habit of showing the medical students photos of his female patients in the bath was not mentioned (see post ‘A Galaxy Of Talent’). There was an admission that the Top Doctors themselves opposed the NHS but no-one mentioned that the way that Nye succeeded in his ‘negotiations’ with the BMA was to ‘stuff their mouths with gold’.

  • Budget 2012: Harry Enfield should bring back Bugger-All ...

 

It was mentioned during the Sunday Service that Bart’s ‘served’ the people of the immediate area, including a severely disadvantaged cohort who lived near much wealthier Bloomsbury. Er – yes, that was the problem in a nutshell. Some very poor people lived very near some much richer people, some of whom liked having sex with much younger people, who might well have not wanted to have sex with them. Enter Dafydd’s mate Linford! And of course Dafydd himself, who was running his sex-trafficking organisation in the region where some of the Bloomsbury set had their holiday homes and weekend retreats (see post ‘The Village’). No wonder brave Sir Robin ran away.

I previously blogged about the way in which the NHS celebrated its 60th anniversary – by Stephen Gallagher, an Angel at Ysbyty Gwynedd, refusing to treat me, threatening me and then threatening two members of the public who challenged him after witnessing his appalling conduct. Gallagher was assisted by his mate, Angel Andrew Parry. See post ‘Two Dangerous Very Dishonest Nurses’ for details.

The ‘Morning Star’ also approvingly reports the comments of Jon Ashworth, the Labour Party Health Spokesman. Ashworth believes that patients’ lives are being put at risk by ‘out of date’ NHS equipment. No Jon, they aren’t. It is not the machines that go ping which are the problem. It is staff lying, forging documents, refusing to do their jobs and covering up for their colleagues who are also doing this. There is a problem with staff sometimes not being able to use the machines that go ping or the machines that go ping not working and the staff not admitting it and bluffing.

In 1999 my friend’s baby died shortly after birth at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. The baby had been in distress during the labour but the midwife had not interpreted the trace from the foetal heart monitor correctly – my friend should have been given an emergency caesarian. Musgrove Park were not able to explain why the midwife had not realised what was happening. My friend consulted an obstetrician who was a family friend who told her that her baby had undoubtedly died as a result of this but there was no point suing because he knew that the staff all intended to lie in court. This was the friend who wanted to make a documentary about what happened to me in north Wales and who was forced out of her job at the Royal Television Society as a result. The consultant who ‘cared for her’ during the delivery which resulted in a dead baby after a healthy pregnancy was Robert Fox.

Step forward Robert Fox and tell us all if you know/knew any Top Doctors who worked in the Obs and Gynae Dept at St George’s Hospital Medical School who were concealing a sex-trafficking ring between south London and north Wales. Geoffrey Chamberlain perhaps? Malcolm Pearce?

Documents in my possession show that Jackie Ehlen, an Angel who worked in the mental health services who had lied about the death of a patient some years previously and who was concealing the wrongdoing of Dafydd et al, made a note on my medical records of the death of my friend’s baby. So Jackie, why were the colleagues of those who were running a paedophile gang between north Wales and London even interested in my friend and her baby?

As for machines that go ping not working, well I was connected to one in the late 1980s in Ysbyty Gwynedd. It was supposed to be monitoring my heart but it didn’t work. I watched the junior doctor – a young Cardiff graduate – BEG for help from the Angels, as every one of them turned their backs on her and refused to even speak to her. She was quaking in her boots, didn’t realise that I had worked out what was going on and returned to hook me up to a machine that didn’t work. It was dutifully recorded on my notes that my heart was being monitored. It wasn’t. After a hour of this farce, I got up, took the jump leads off my chest and had a wander around. It was recorded that I had disconnected myself from the monitor and ‘wasn’t compliant with treatment’. If I had pegged out, my death would have been attributed to that.

Nicola Sturgeon has given NHS staff in Scotland a pay rise. That’s right Nicola, stuff those negligent, criminal mouths with gold because they are such a big problem that no politician has the stomach to take them on.

The Top Docs want a 70th anniversary celebration? I’ll prepare the ground for them, because clearly this blog so far has not been sufficient to persuade them to shut their greedy, demanding mouths and fess up re Dafydd and the sex trafficking ring. I’ll name more offenders and accessories.

 

St George’s Hospital Medical School, 1989-91: There was a researcher called Charlotte Baris in Dr Cathy Wilson’s lab. Charlotte Baris was treated as badly as everyone else was. Mandy Leigh was the only member of staff who wasn’t roundly abused and insulted on an hourly basis, but that’s because Leigh’s family were Posh. I don’t know who they were, but Wilson thought that it was worth knowing them. Mandy would sit in the tea room puffing on fags, dropping the names of the various aristocrats whom she had partied with the previous night. Sadly I can’t remember who they were. I’m such a pleb that I just found this upper-class poisonous bitch drawling on about the Marquess of somewhere or other rude and boring so I didn’t take notes, although I should have. Leigh was pursuing a high profile actor at the time – it was either Hugh Grant or Kenneth Branagh, I get them confused. She was also friends with the offspring of the ‘Born Free’ actress, Virginia McKenna, who berated Mandy for her possession of ivory. McKenna was establishing the Born Free Foundation when I had the misfortune of being routinely insulted by Mandy at work. Never mind the dead elephants tusks, Mandy Leigh was building her career by ingratiating herself to a bunch of Top Docs running a paedophile gang.

Charlotte Baris arrived to work in our lab shortly after I began working there, but was bullied so badly by Mandy Leigh that she soon began applying for other jobs. Sadly she used the usual strategy of toadying to Cathy Wilson rather than making it clear just how unacceptable their behaviour was. Shortly after Charlotte joined the team, Wilson asked me if Charlotte could rent the spare room in the house that I shared with Andrew and Di Aldridge  (Andrew was a junior surgeon at St George’s, he is mentioned on one of the comments which follow my post ‘The Village’).  Charlotte moved in, lived in style for a while – it was a nice place – and then did a runner without paying her rent. We were gobsmacked that she’d tried such a stunt because she was still working in the same research team as me. I was put in the difficult position of repeatedly asking Charlotte to pay Andrew’s dad – who owned the house – the rent that she owed.  Charlotte lied constantly by saying that she had just paid the money into Andrew’s dad’s account when she had done no such thing. Then Charlotte told me that it was none of my business. I responded by reminding her that it was through her working with me that she ended up sharing the house – Cathy Wilson had asked me if she could move in with us. In the end Charlotte did pay up, but I seem to remember that was only after Andrew’s dad had threatened to call his lawyer in.

There was one junior doctor at St George’s with whom I was friends who was not nuts like the others and she was very worried about the presence of Charlotte in the lab. No-one seemed to know who Charlotte was or where she had come from. She was in her mid-30s and had previously worked in Manchester – or that was the story. But lots of things that Charlotte said didn’t add up or were inconsistent. She also had a gentleman friend who would ring her at work, order us all around on the phone in a very arrogant plummy voice but who refused to identify himself. Charlotte lied constantly about everything and one day when I went home from work unexpectedly I found her on the phone to the mystery man who was on his way down from Manchester in a hurry because she was in the process of attempting to flee London. I suspect that the plans were only altered because I happened upon the scene.

Oh – then there were the rumours that Charlotte was a call-girl…

So Dafydd, who was she? A present from one of your mates at Manchester University – where Tony Francis had been working immediately before he moved to north Wales and where your old pal Bob Hobson was still employed? Did St George’s know who she was or were her references and ID etc faked? It won’t be the first time that you’ve been involved with such scams.

As far as I could see, the entire reason for Charlotte Baris going to work at St George’s was to befriend me, move into the house that I shared, run up debts and leave my reputation in the mud as far as my landlord and house mates were concerned.

Let me make it clear. There was a massive sex trafficking ring operating across the UK at that time involving Westminster politicians and others and Dafydd was at the centre of it. St George’s/Springfield Hospital was a major branch of the ring. The delivery suite at St George’s was plastered in notices which were care orders from social services – not even just Wandsworth Social Services, but from local authorities right across the country – telling the midwives that if such and such a girl turned up in labour, the police were to be called and the baby would be removed at birth. There were photos and descriptions of the girls and much was made of the fact that they might be using false names and had been diagnosed as ‘psychopaths’ by Top Doctors. Of course they were using false names – they had run away from a bloody sex trafficking gang. I was using a false name at one point because everywhere I went, Dafydd would appear. Then I realised that Dafydd and co were tracing me through Gov’t databases so I just thought sod this, I’ll stand up to them because they’ll get me anyway.

 

Now then Dafydd, I have been receiving info over the past few months from someone who absolutely maintains that one of your lot were behind the King’s Cross fire. I was due to be passing through the station right at the time that the fireball went up, but I’d been delayed so I missed it. I didn’t believe this person when they first told me, but they have given me more and more evidence of the way in which your mates were stalking me, had me and my friends under surveillance and they have supplied me with details of my whereabouts and activities as long as 35 yrs ago. There were people moving into shared houses and flats with me presenting themselves as young people who were my friends but they weren’t – they were gifts from the security services who’s aim was to protect you, not me.

In Oct 1987, DCS Gwynne Owen of the North Wales Police submitted the second report to the CPS regarding Alison Taylor’s allegations that children in north Wales were being abused. He dismissed her concerns and stated that: ‘There is every likelihood… she will manipulate others in the future to make similar complaints’. On 3rd Nov 1987, Alison Taylor was formally dismissed by Gwynedd County Council.

On 18 Nov 1987, the fireball ripped through King’s Cross Station. Thirty-one people died and 100 were injured. No-one has ever got to the bottom of the cause of that fire. I am told that the purpose of it was to kill me.

You lot are going to fess up.

In 1986-87 I lived in Harringay. I have mentioned previously that Dafydd freely admitted to me that he had a contact in Haringey Social Services who was going to ‘keep an eye’ on me no less. I was living in a shared house with a good group of people. Then there was havoc because a particularly mad young man turned up and moved in, whom it transpired had IRA connections. The landlord chucked him out after he threatened the landlord and then a Turkish man moved in. Who, after a few weeks, moved a 15 year old Turkish boy in with him. Into the same room, with only one bed. The Turkish boy couldn’t speak any English. This was undoubtedly a child protection issue but I doubt that Dafydd’s mates in Haringey Social Services were going to worry about that. The local MP at the time was Bernie Grant. Who was succeeded by David Lammy…

Jeremy Corbyn was the MP for a neighbouring constituency who sat on the Board of the local NHS authority.

Hilda King. I shared a flat with her in Tooting in 1989. Hilda was a psychiatric nurse at Friern Barnet Hospital. She came from Liverpool and her former nursing tutor knew Dafydd and the North Wales Hospital Denbigh – she told me this. Hilda presented herself as a good friend of mine, but subsequently began behaving very strangely and suddenly announced that she was leaving London and giving up the tenancy of the flat. She disappeared. She had a boyfriend called Mike who was always very frosty towards me. She had previously been in a relationship with a Top Doc at Friern called Dr Pilgrim. I have been told that Hilda was someone who was paid to pass on information about me.

 

I have also been told that there was a paedophile ring operating in Somerset when I was a teenager, that the people involved had a connection with Dafydd et al and that they were subsequently involved in receiving money for information about me, or to lie about me. The name that I have been given is Stuart Beauchamp. He was an American who lived in the same village as me when I was 12 and I used to help him with his goats – when I was 14 he went to live in Wales, but I have no idea where. I knew that Stuart and his mates dealt in drugs and that they were under surveillance by the police, although the Avon and Somerset police were completely corrupt. I didn’t believe it when I was told that Stuart was involved because I haven’t seen him for decades, but as Brown pointed out, Stuart had corrupt police officers after his blood and he could well have done anything at all to get them off his back. Stuart was a farm labourer – my opinion is that he was nothing compared to the danger that Dafydd and the Top Doctors represented, but as the Top Docs won’t fess up and they keep demanding more money, I’m naming everyone who has evidence.

Stuart shared a cottage with a man called Rob Perry. Rob had a major drugs problem but gave up drugs and became a Jehovah’s Witness in about 1980. A lot of Rob’s new friends were former Catholics who kept telling me that they had become Jehovah’s Witnesses because the Catholic Church was unbelievably ‘evil’, especially to children. I suspect that they were talking about sexual abuse, which was not so openly discussed at the time. One of Rob’s fellow members of the Kingdom Hall in Bridgwater is a man called Mike Evans.

Mike Evans was a farmer from Fiddington, but he wasn’t your average Somerset farmer. Mike Evans was a difficult man who gave up farming and turned his farm into a camping and caravan site, a very, very big one. It is now virtually a leisure centre. The local residents opposed every development and expansion of Evans’s, but somehow the planning permission kept coming. There was a degree of vindictiveness in some of the opposition, but even so it was a wonder to behold that Mike Evans was allowed to develop this Disneyland on the outskirts of a small Somerset village – the lanes were barely big enough to cope with the traffic. Local people all believed that Mr Evans was buying his way through the planning system because he was so wealthy – he hired a top flight QC at one point to flatten the neighbours. That was probably true, but Mike Evans had not always been wealthy. Mike Evans used to be quite a poor man. Until Rob Perry joined the Kingdom Hall in Bridgwater – Rob who knew me and who knew Stuart.

The MP for Bridgwater at the time was Tom King. King was a member of Thatcher’s Cabinet and he was Secretary of State for Employment when Sir Peter Morrison was a Minister in that Dept. Peter Morrison was abusing kids in care in north Wales. King later became N Ireland Secretary, so knew whatever it was that had happened at the Kincora Boys’ Home as well. Another member of Thatcher’s Cabinet, John Biffen, had grown up on a farm about three miles away from Fiddington and his mum and dad still lived there and would occasionally turn up in their famous son’s circle and charm everyone in their capacity as two bumpkins.

People tried to kill me and Brown Mr Evans and whilst that was happening you took your opportunity to become a millionaire on the back of your knowledge as to why someone was trying to kill us.

I didn’t ever have any evidence that Mike Evans ever sexually abused his children, but he used to beat the living daylights out of one of them when he was only about 3 yrs old. I witnessed it.

Perhaps the maggots could now crawl out of their hiding places and admit what they got up to and why so many of them prospered.

 

The ‘Daily Mirror’ today is leading with a scoop – an interview with William Roache aka Ken Barlow on His Hell and how he has forgiven his accusers. Ken is opening his heart regarding his 2013 arrest, prosecution and subsequent acquittal for historical sex offences against girls between 12 and 16 yrs old. He was found not guilty on all charges and there was much comment along the lines of ‘how very dare you’ when Ken Walked Free From The Court.

I haven’t the foggiest as to whether William Roache committed the offences or not, I don’t know Roache and was certainly not a witness. What I do know though is that Roache was Patron of St David’s Hospice in Llandudno, which is an establishment that was founded and is governed and managed by the paedophiles’ friends (see post ‘The CEOs Of St David’s Hospice’). Furthermore, William Roache was Patron of St David’s Hospice when the Chief Exec was Alun Davies, the lying, perjuring former manager of the Hergest Unit who attempted to have me imprisoned in his attempts to conceal the wrongdoing of Dafydd and the paedophiles. That doesn’t of course mean that Roache is a sex offender, but the point of being a national treasure is that you are supposed to have folk around you who keep you away from people who are assisting paedophile gangs. Sadly the screening system seems to have failed terribly, Judi Dench hangs out with Robert Bluglass and Carlo took marriage guidance advice off Jimmy Savile.

 Carlo
Charles, Prince of Wales at COP21.jpg

 

Roache seems to have spent his whole life sailing close to the wind in terms of Dafydd and the paedophiles. William Roache’s dad was a Top Doctor and William went to Rydal School in Colwyn Bay. Rydal has now merged with Penrhos College – Penrhos College was formerly the girls’ school which was just down the road from Rydal, the boys’ school. Rydal and Penrhos were the public schools of choice for wealthy people in north Wales.In recent years, former pupils from Rydal have come forward with allegations of sexual abuse – the school has admitted that a small number of teachers were guilty and that their offences were concealed.

Not all former pupils of Rydal complained of abuse and unhappiness, many speak very fondly of their time there. However, even now, Rydal Penrhos is a very tightly knit network – nearly all of the Governors are former old boys (most of the Governors are male) and they are all Top Docs, lawyers, accountants etc. That does not make them wicked people, but it is evidence of a very strong, influential alumni network which someone who was an abuser would be able to tap into should they wish to do the How Very Dare You bit.

William’s son Linus also went to Rydal School and is a past member of the Royal Shakespeare Company. So he’ll know Judi Dench, Sir Ian McKellen and the rest of the luvvies who’s lives do seem to touch those of Dafydd and the paedophiles (see post ‘The Village’).

Films that Linus has starred in include ‘No Surrender’, 1985; ‘Shot Through The Heart’, 1998; ‘Hart’s War’, 2002; ‘Find Me Guilty’, 2006; and ‘Mandy’, 2018. His TV credits include ‘Kidnapped’, 2006-07.

I will invite Linus to take part in my forthcoming drama ‘How Very Dare You’. We’ll tour north Wales Linus! I’m sure that the paedophiles’ folly which is Theatre Clwyd (see post ‘Workers’ Play Time’) will welcome us.

 

Linus’s dad William was born in Basford, Nottinghamshire, the son of Hester and Joseph Roache. He grew up in nearby Ilkeston, Derbyshire, where he attended a Steiner school set up by his grandfather in the garden of the family home. There was a long-standing paedophile ring in Derbyshire which by the 1960s was linked to Dafydd et al in north Wales. There was a Steiner school in Porthmadog which was a centre of sexual abuse in the 1980s/90s. I am also aware of a Steiner ‘Hospital’ in Birmingham which was concealing organised abuse and of at least two other Steiner schools in England about which there were concerns, although I don’t know if the concerns were about sexual abuse per se.

When I lived near Haslemere in 1988 – unbeknown to me Alun Davies and Laurie Wood (the then general manager of the North Wales Hospital Denbigh) were tracking my addresses at the time – a former midwife called Ann moved into the shared cottage where I lived. She had left the NHS – after admitting to me that she’d witnessed the sort of things that usually make midwives leave the NHS – and was working in a school for children with behavioural problems in Surrey and I think that it was a Steiner school. After a few weeks it became clear that she was not very happy with her employers and the school but she wouldn’t articulate what it was exactly that she was so worried about. She struggled on there for another few months and left among a flurry of Angel-like comments directed at her employer along the lines of ‘I’m not happy about the management’ and ‘I’ve told them that we are never going to see eye-to-eye’. I didn’t know at the time but the phrases that Ann used were the stock phrases that Angels use when people are being abused and they can’t bear to confront it. She also showed a great deal of concern about what was happening to me at the hands of those we know and love until one day she moved out and fled and I never saw her again.

So who threatened Ann then Dafydd? She might have been paid, but I gained the impression that she was far too frightened to be in receipt of goodies. There would be ample opportunities for Dafydd, D.G.E. Wood etc to have got at Ann. I was working at Surrey University at the time and my boss was Prof Vincent Marks who’s brother was Dr John Marks, the then President of the BMA, just as Tony Francis was CC’ing letters to the BMA describing how he was going to frame me. At the time John Marks was battling with Ken Clarke and both sides were using anything that they could. Dr D.G.E. Wood had already made contact with two GPs that I had registered with in Surrey/Hampshire to stick his oar in. Furthermore, one of the girls in our house, Beth, was the daughter of an educational psychologist. Many of whom conceal the abuse of children.

Bill Roache’s grandfather was a Freemason. At one point Bill Roache began a medicine degree but withdrew. Roache joined the British Army and was commissioned into the Royal Welsh Fusiliers. A regiment with which Dafydd has links. Roache lives in Wilmslow, Cheshire, which is in the area in which Dafydd’s gang operated.

In 1991, Roache won a libel action against ‘The Sun’, which had described him as boring and unpopular with his fellow Coronation Street stars. He was awarded £50,000 damages by the jury, the same amount that he had turned down in an out-of-court settlement offered by the newspaper before the case. As a result he was liable for the £120,000 costs incurred. Roache sued his law firm for negligence in 1998 and was declared bankrupt in April 1999.

Roache is a supporter of the Conservative Party. In 2007, he championed John Major as Britain’s greatest post-war PM. Roache backed disgraced ex-Conservative MP Neil Hamilton in the 1997 General Election against the anti-corruption candidate Martin Bell. Neil and Christine Hamilton used to attend social events with Sir Peter Morrison – Neil Hamilton was the MP for the neighbouring constituency.

Roache became patron of the Ilkeston-based production company Sustained Magic Ltd in 2006.

Roache is a vegetarian because he ‘doesn’t want animals being killed for him’. The Chief Exec of St David’s Hospice whilst Roache was Patron colluded with a paedophile gang which killed people. 

William Roache is all spiritual. He has done a course in astrology and read the stars for his colleagues on ‘Coronation Street’ and wowed them with the accuracy of his readings. Presumably he was financially ruined by that libel case against ‘The Sun’ before he went on that course. Or else George Carman QC was a better astrologist. William Roache dressed up in white robes complete with cowl and attended a ceremony at the Henge one year. The tabloids could barely contain their joy, although Bill Roache has since denied that he is a druid.

William Roache’s on-screen wife was Deirdre, played by the actor Anne Kirkbride. Anne Spoke Out about depression and became a mental health campaigner. She did not speak out about what Bill Roache’s mates at the St David’s Hospice were doing to mental health patients in north Wales. Years ago Anne was busted for the possession of grass – or as Dafydd would say ‘mari-jew-ana’ – although info relating to that is not mentioned on her wiki entry. It definitely happened, I remember it being particularly poignant because a victim of Dafydd’s was a Coronation Street fan and used to enjoy telling people that the roach had been named after Bill Roache, who invented it. Perhaps he did, Bill and Deirdre lived rather more exciting lives than the rest of us knew about. I haven’t noticed any members of the Coronation Street cast called chillum or bong though, so perhaps they’re not aficionados of meri-jew-ana.

I watched a TV documentary about Bill Roache in the company of the man who enjoyed telling people that Bill invented the roach – I think that Deirdre had been busted by then as well. So I was a bit surprised to find that Bill Roache lived in a house furnished with human-sized Sindy doll furniture, all white with golden trimmings and carpeted with deep pile white carpets. Furthermore Bill collected Faberge eggs and went on about his eggs at length. Then the documentary explained that Bill had a big day ahead of him because he was opening a supermarket near Manchester, so I presumed that he was scraping the barrel, although that’s not an excuse for getting involved with initiatives of Dafydd and the paedophiles.

Until Alun Davies became the Chief Exec of St David’s Hospice, it was a little known and minor venture of the paedophiles’ friends. Yet once Davies arrived, Bill Roache rocked up and stars of stage and screen started appearing at fund-raising gigs – including Paul Merton, Phil Jupitus and Marcus Brigstocke (see post ‘The Bloody State We’re In’). Davies did not arrive at St David’s with an unblemished record. He had presided over a holocaust at the Hergest Unit, with scores of patient suicides and even some staff ones as well. That Unit was a smouldering heap on the pavement by the time that Davies departed, with former staff openly talking about Davies’s ‘corruption’ and how he was using his charidee work to facilitate it.

Bill Roache is also a Patron of Crimestoppers and supports the Prince’s Trust, Childhood Eye Cancer and Henshaw’s Society for the Blind.

A Hergest patient repeatedly rang Crimestoppers in the mid-1990s and gave them full details of a number of serious offences with which Dafydd and his associates were involved. Crimestoppers refused to act and told him that his calls were being treated as hoaxes. See post ’95 Glorious Years!’.

Roache was acquitted of the sex offence charges whilst he was Patron of St David’s.

 

Dafydd and the paedophiles’ friends were not only good at ensuring that people who had committed offences against patients were never charged, but they were able to provide the same service for certain favoured patients. There was a mental health patient who used to live near Bethesda who kept telling me how much he liked Dafydd and that Dafydd had been ‘very kind to him’. Not so long after that, this man told me that ‘two girls on a bus’ had told stories about him and he was now in trouble with the police and might have to go to court. I was actually present when Tony Francis stuck his head around the door and cheerily said ‘you won’t have to go to court, I’ve spoken to the police’. At the time I presumed that this man had been the subject of a misunderstanding or bigotry. I was told later by someone who had known him for a long time that he had committed sex offences against women again and again and again and Dafydd and Tony Francis had ‘got him off’ every time. I don’t know why he was given such preferential treatment by people who usually did all that they could to frame patients, but this man’s wider family also contained a few people who seemed to have particularly good fortune where behaving badly without ever facing the consequences was concerned.

 

The ‘Daily Mirror’ today also has a big feature on the late Peter Stringfellow who featured in my post ‘R.I.P. Two Paedophiles’ Friends And A Poor Cow’. In the interests of fairness I need to mention that Peter Stringfellow and his ‘beautiful girls’ all stressed that the beautiful girls in his clubs did not sell sex to the customers. However, Stringfellow alleged that there was another ‘gentleman’s club’ where the beautiful girls did exactly that and Stringfellow alleged that this club almost put him out of business by doing such a roaring trade in sex – it was Spearmint Rhino. According to the Mirror, Stringfellow was so concerned at what was going on in Spearmint Rhino that he sent some of his beautiful girls along undercover as spies and they reported back…

Spearmint Rhino is owned by John Gray and it is an American based business.

Some years ago Springfield Hospital hit the headlines after it was revealed that as part of an ’employment opportunities’ scheme for service users, one patient had been found a ‘work placement’ as a stripper at Spearmint Rhino. Dr Rachel Perkins, the clinical director of Springfield, defended this ‘placement for a disadvantaged woman service user’ on the grounds that the patient ‘chose to do it’. Rachel Perkins was clinical director of Springfield when I was a patient there. Not only were her colleagues assisting Dafydd et al in running a sex trafficking gang, but suicidal patients who were being completely neglected by the staff were told that it was their choice as to whether they killed themselves or not. I saw one suicidal distraught young man whose wife and children had been killed in a car accident some months earlier walk out of the door after telling the staff that he was going to kill himself. He was told that was up to him. Another patient expressed his astonishment and was told to keep his nose out.

There are some girls and women who are quite happy to work at Spearmint Rhino. But Rachel Perkins’ patients were coerced into doing things that they would never have usually wanted to do and were then told that it was their choice. Furthermore their lives were systematically destroyed until prostitution or stripping might seem like quite a positive option, after Rachel and co had made sure that they wouldn’t be able to return to other employment. Rachel Perkins used her position as a Gov’t adviser to support cuts in disability benefits for people with mental health problems.

Rachel stood down as clinical director of Springfield after a public inquiry which followed a number of murders of patients as well as staff and sexual assaults on patients damned the hospital and deemed it to be irretrievable. Rachel was then given a seat on the St George’s Trust Board as the Service User Representative, Rachel by then having taken a leaf out of Alastair Campbell’s book and declared herself a service user. Subsequently Rachel was given a seat on the Equality and Human Rights Commission.

Rachel Perkins continued to write on LGBT issues as well as Service User Empowerment. One of her offerings bore a striking resemblance to something that Brown and I had published not long before. Brown laughed and said that we should be flattered that Rachel thought that our ideas were worth nicking, but Brown is rather more forgiving than me. All I could think was ‘that people trafficking bitch who’s colleagues refused to help me when people were trying to kill me and instead sent me back to Dafydd with whom they were colluding has plagiarised our work’.

 

Some Empowered Service Users
Strippers strip club Mexico City.jpg

Milli Tant And Her Radical Conscience:

Rachel Perkinsv

 

Perkins was at one point crowned the MIND Champion of the Year.

 

Milli Tant’s colleague Prof Nigel Eastman, who told me to ‘go back to north Wales’ after Rachel’s other colleagues had forced me out of my job:

 

 

Rachel: I know that as an Empowered Service User my rightful place in society should be working in the sex industry, but next time that you and Eastman try and force me into that line of work, perhaps you could get me a business start-up grant so that I can then establish my own brothel. Because I was certainly not going to work for Dafydd. Mind you, if you’d helped me set up in business a la Miss Whiplash, I wouldn’t have ended up eventually returning to academia and publishing the work with Brown that you plagiarised.

 

After I moved to London but before I was one of Rachel’s Empowered Service Users, I used to entertain myself by cringing at a radio programme that was a late night favourite on Capital Radio, ‘Anna and the Doc’. Anna was Anna Raeburn, an agony aunt who built up a reputation for giving terrible advice to the punters when she worked for ‘Cosmopolitan’, but I haven’t been able to find out who the Doc was. He was a lethal old git and a liar as well. By the time that I was listening to Anna and the Doc, I had encountered Dafydd and the paedophiles and witnessed serious wrongdoing at Hammersmith Hospital/RPMS and at St George’s. Sometimes people would ring up Anna and the Doc and begin to relate terrible experiences with Top Docs and ask the Doc why such a thing had happened or what they could do. Anna would interrupt them and say things like ‘now all that’s going to happen if we continue is that you are going to have another row with another doctor and that’s not going to help’. Anna would then cut them off and the self-satisfied harrumphing of the Doc could be heard in the background.

One night someone successfully evaded Anna’s filtering system and pretended that he just wanted a friendly chat with the Doc. As soon as the Doc came on the line, this man said ‘would you please tell me why drug addicts are treated so badly by doctors?’ Whereupon the Doc snapped ‘they’re not’. The caller retorted ‘oh yes they are’, but before he launched into an account of what was obviously going to be first hand experience, Anna yelled down the phone ‘they’re not. You’ve had the answer from the Doc, drug addicts are not treated badly’. Anna then cut the caller off.

Anna, I seriously thought of ringing in to tell your listeners that within the previous few weeks I had heard a research assistant and a senior technician at St George’s tell me that addicts were ‘scum, they are awful, they are such a pain the arse, we just get them out of here, everyone hates them’. I had also been told by a junior doctor that ‘I hate them, I won’t have them in my clinic no matter what their problems are’. But I guessed that after I had uttered three words, you would cut me off so I didn’t bother.

Addicts can be very, very difficult to work with, but the Doc was telling bare-faced porkies when he told the world that there was no bad feeling towards addicts on the part of Top Docs. Of course, there are some Docs who will treat addicts. Dafydd does, he sells them drugs. As did some of Rachel Perkins’s colleagues at Springfield Hospital.

If any readers know the identity of the patronising dishonest old pompouser who was the Doc on ‘Anna and the Doc’, please do let me know.

 

Dr Charles Hill was known as the ‘Radio Doctor’ in the 1930s. Hill was born in Islington and was educated at St Olave’s Grammar School, Southwark, London. He went to Trinity College, Cambridge and continued his medical studies at the London Hospital. Hill became Deputy Medical Officer of Oxford in 1930. He became Assistant Secretary of the BMA from 1932 and was Secretary 1944-50.

During WWII, the Ministry of Health had wanted the BBC to infiltrate health messages into ordinary programmes rather than have dedicated programmes from the Ministry of Food, but the BBC warned that this would not be effective and would be viewed by listeners as patronising. So they employed a Top Doctor to patronise them instead. Consequently, Hill’s role as the ‘Radio Doctor’ became part of the Ministry of Food’s programme, ‘Kitchen Front’, every morning from 1942. Because of the then rules about members of the medical profession advertising, Hill could not broadcast under his own name and so was just ‘The Radio Doctor’. His ‘distinctive rich voice helped make an impact’. Indeed, the high quality of the pompousing will be forever remembered.

Hill was still the BMA’s Secretary when the NHS was introduced in 1948. He negotiated with Nye Bevan and ensured that GPs did not simply become salaried employees. Don’t tell me – because that was the best way of helping poor people and achieving social justice no doubt.

Hill stood for Parliament for University of Cambridge in 1945 as an Independent. He was successful in 1950, becoming MP for Luton as a Conservative and National Liberal.

He was appointed Secretary to the Ministry of Food in 1951. He became the Postmaster-General (a non-Cabinet ministerial position with responsibilities that included broadcasting) in 1955; during his period in office he publicly berated the BBC for its reporting of the Suez Crisis. In May 1956, Hill attempted to formalise the existing agreement by which discussions or statements about matters before Parliament could not be broadcast in the fortnight preceding any debate. However, the Suez Crisis rendered this policy unworkable in practice and the Gov’t agreed to its suspension at the end of the year. Hill, who had been uneasy about the implications of the rule for freedom of expression, was relieved.

From 1957-61, Hill was Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster and from 1961 he was Minister of Housing and Local Gov’t and Welsh Affairs, but he lost his place in the Cabinet in Macmillan’s ‘Night of the Long Knives’ reshuffle in 1962.

Hill was appointed as the Chairman of the Independent Television Authority in 1963, where he continued his hostile attitude towards the BBC. He was given a peerage in 1963. In 1967, Hill announced that the ITV contracts were all to be re-advertised, because he was concerned about the large profits being made by the major companies and their lack of regional identity. This resulted in a radical reorganisation of the ITV network.

Hill was appointed Chairman of the BBC Governors (1967–72), by Harold Wilson to ‘sort out’ the BBC. His appointment as BBC Chairman surprised the BBC’s Governors and several resigned. Wilson encouraged Hill to be active in editorial decisions. Hill’s Deputy Chairman was Wilson’s friend and that very good paedophiles’ friend Lord John Fulton (see post ‘Anthem For Doomed Youth’). Hill had a difficult relationship with the DG of the BBC, Hugh Greene and he eventually forced Greene to resign in 1969. Greene later described Hill as a ‘vulgarian’. He had a ‘quieter relationship’ with Greene’s successor, paedophiles’ friend Charles Curran (see previous posts). Hill retired from the BBC in 1972 but he did, however, continue to be active in the business world as Chairman of the Abbey National Building Society and of Laporte.

Hill died in 1989, aged 85.

He married Marion Spencer Wallace, with whom he had two sons and three daughters. Marion read botany at Cambridge, so could well have known UCNW’s leading light in botany, Prof Greig-Smith and his colleague from Cambridge, Prof Edred Henry Corner, Douglas Hurd’s uncle (see post ‘Additional Security Measures’).

 

Dr Charles Haw-Haw: ‘BMA Calling, BMA Calling’

  • BBC Radio 4 - Desert Island Discs, Charles Hill

 

My post ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’ described how, when staff at Ysbyty Gwynedd were busy forging documents, failing to investigate serious complaints, lying to patients, concealing serious wrongdoing and perjuring themselves in order to have patients convicted, they received a visit from the Welsh National Board, who subsequently deemed them suitable to educate mental health nurses to degree level.

I have discovered that a former member of the Welsh National Board reached high office after doing this favour for the colleagues of a paedophile gang. Let me introduce Professor Jean White CBE.

Jean White was appointed as Chief Nursing Officer for Wales in October 2010. It was Edwina Hart wot did it. The Edwina who hated Martin Jones, the former CEO of the NW Wales NHS Trust, but couldn’t get rid of him because of all the previously dirty deals with which she’d been involved (see post ‘The Human Stain’). Edwina was later appointed Minister for Business and Enterprise, where it was alleged, she distributed business grant support in return for sexual favours.

So Edwina, did Jean White hold you hostage in order to land the top job or did you offer it to her as a thank you for her earlier services and because she knew where the bodies were buried, how many there were and the details of the killings?

Jean White is ‘Welsh by birth’ – and no doubt likes a bit of bara brith and a Welsh cake –  trained as a general nurse in Swansea and practised as a theatre nurse in Wales and London. Ooh, Swansea – the location of the Swansea Mafia of which Edwina was alleged to be part of. Jean ‘has held positions in nurse education at the Welsh National Board, Health Professions Wales and Welsh Government’. So she’ll be an expert in cooking the books, fiddling the figures and ticking the right boxes.

Jean has worked with a number of European governments and is currently an expert adviser to the World Health Organisation (WHO) European Region. They clearly haven’t realised yet that they’ve been conned.

After her appointment as CNO, Jean’s main priority was ‘developing the nursing and midwifery workforce in Wales’. Ah, so THAT’S why the Betsi was placed in special measures partly as a result of its dangerous, dysfunctional maternity services! It was because they had been so highly developed by Jean – following of course all those years of Jean beavering away in nurse education.

Jean was also engaged in implementing the Nurse Staffing Levels (Wales) Act 2016. That’ll be why there are such serious nurse shortages across Wales then.

Jean is Honorary Visiting Professor to the School of Nursing and Midwifery Studies, Cardiff University; Visiting Professor to University of South Wales, Fellow of Swansea University; Fellow of Bangor University and was made Fellow of the Queen’s Nursing Institute in November 2016. She was acknowledged in the inaugural Nursing Times Nurse Leaders 2014 list and received a CBE from Lilibet in 2017 for services nursing and midwifery in the UK and Europe.

I’m feeling quite overwhelmed by all the excellence.

Jean is a member of the NMC. That’s the body which struck off the nurse who blew the whistle on the Tawel Fan Scandal but which took no action against the Angels who abused the patients in Tawel Fan.

Jean is involved in the National Institute for Social Care and Health Research (NISCHR). That’s a organisation which stumps up large grants for the paedophiles’ friends to pursue mediocre, unoriginal ‘research’ which always manages to demonstrate that basically, standards in the health and social care sector in Wales are high but could become even higher if a few more hundred thousand was given to the researchers who found that standards were high. It’s a remarkably successful strategy. Standards remain high – despite some of the most shameful mortality rates in Europe and patients dumped naked on the beds, left to lie in their own faeces – and the same small group of researchers bag all the dosh from the NISCHR.

Jean gave a power point presentation on ‘developing nursing research in Wales’, which had the words ‘Cardiff and Vale University Health Board’ splashed all over it. I don’t know whether Jean was giving the presentation to them or whether she was affiliated to them, but she might be interested to know – being a midwife and all that – that Cardiff and Vale UHB employ one Richard Penketh as a consultant gynaecologist. Penketh worked at St George’s when I did. He had sex with a research assistant in the lab – not me I hasten to add – and whilst he was having sex with her, he told her how much he wanted to have sex with her colleague. You didn’t know that I heard about that did you Mandy? Then Penketh failed some professional exams and I was told that he was such a liability that he was going to be frozen out of the London scene and ‘sent to Wales’. Once Penketh was sent to Wales, Dr Brian Gibbons, in his capacity as Health Minister, gave Penketh an award for excellence.

Penketh arrived at St George’s after having worked for Lord Robert Winston at Hammersmith Hospital. Winston didn’t warn anyone, he just passed the liability that is Penketh on to someone else, who in turn sent him to the dustbin for Top Docs that is Wales.

Lord Winston is an Emeritus Professor at Imperial College and a Labour Peer. He has presented many TV programmes and series, including ‘Walking With Cavemen’. Here’s the missing link himself:

 

Lord Winston 2011 (Portrait).jpg

 

Robert Winston is a Fellow of the RSA and a member of the Garrick, the MCC and the Athenaeum. Savile was a member of the Athenaeum and Dafydd’s umbrella’s Sir Ronnie Waterhouse and Sir William Mars-Jones were members of the Garrick.

Winston was a Council member of the ICRF and CR UK, so he will know all about the research frauds funded by people working for those charidees which I described in my posts ‘Oh Lordy, It’s CR UK’, ‘Reports Of Death Were Greatly Exaggerated’ and ‘Apocalypse Now’.

Winston is also: Chancellor, Sheffield Hallam University; Chairman of the Council, Royal College of Music; University of Surrey Council Member; Chairman of the Genesis Research Trust; Founding member and co-chair of the UK-Israel Science Council (since 2017).

Lord Winston – do you know a man called Robert Fox who works at Musgrove Park Hospital by any chance? Perhaps you have contacts in north Wales as well? I know that north Wales functions as a latrine for the Top Docs, but an awful lot of people knew that not only was the region crawling with service users who could name rich n famous people who had sexually exploited them, but that one of the service users could potentially inflict real damage because of what she witnessed when she worked as a medical researcher in, er, Hammersmith Hospital and St George’s, as well as in north Wales…

 

To return to Professor Jean White CBE, the fool who embraces the Top Docs whom Winston et al get rid of before the bomb explodes on their patch. Jean gave a powerpoint presentation – Jean loves powerpoints, you don’t have to think, you just put a few sentences up in capitals and vary the font a bit and then put in a few photos – in which the last slide read ‘service, education and research communities need to work together and with industry to make sure the health and social care services we have in Wales are the best that they can be’.

Unfortunately, because the health and social care services in Wales employ the likes of Jean White and Richard Penketh at the top of the tree, ‘the best that they can be’ is pretty bloody awful.

It’s OK though. Jean will soon be completing another ‘self-assessment’, as part of her ‘CPD’, along with every other fuckwit working with her. They will all spend a couple of hours assessing their strengths and diligently conclude that they are all ‘very good’ at almost everything, ‘excellent’ at a few things and ‘need to improve’ on something very trivial which does of course have no bearing at all on patient safety.

Meanwhile the mortality rates in Wales will remain some of the worst in Europe.

Here is Professor Jean White CBE. I can see a category on her next self-assessment exercise which needs to be ticked as ‘needing improvement’ – the ability to match the colour of one’s hair dye with one’s eye-brows.

 

Jean White

 

Whilst rooting around, I uncovered another lady who has inexplicably made it through the doors of the House of Lords, despite being unknown and as far as I can see, having achieved bugger all. Step forward Baroness Delyth Morgan.

Delyth Jane Morgan, Baroness Morgan of Drefelin (born 30 August 1961), is Crossbencher in the Lords having formerly sat as a Labour peer. In 2011 Morgan was appointed Chief Executive of the Breast Cancer Campaign, now known as Breast Cancer Now. She was educated at Bedford College, London, BSc Physiology & Biochemistry, 1983, now part of Royal Holloway, University of London and also UCU. She was President of the London University Union, 1985–86.

Morgan was a junior Minister in the Dept of Innovation and Skills in 2008. Delyth was then Minister for the Dept of Children, Schools and Families, 2008-10. She replaced Kevin Brennan, who was an acolyte of Rhodri Morgan (see post ‘Dirty Rotten Scoundrels’).

Web pages relating to Delyth have mostly disappeared and all I can find is that she ‘worked in the voluntary sector’ for Shelter, the Workplace Nursing Campaign and Asthma UK and spent a ‘decade at the helm’ of Breakthrough Breast Cancer, which was formed from a merger of other charidees. Delyth led the fundraising which led to the opening, in 1999, of the Breakthrough Toby Robins Breast Cancer Research Centre at the Institute of Cancer Research.

I have definitely never worked with Delyth, but my former colleagues from Surrey University – who stole my data and gave it to Prof Nicola Curtin at Newcastle-upon-Tyne University to publish under her name – subsequently went to work at the Institute of Cancer Research. They also knew about the research frauds being perpetrated which are detailed in my previous posts. I note that Delyth’s Research Centre opened in 1999. Just before Ronnie Waterhouse published his Report re the North Wales Child Abuse Scandal.

So Delyth, you disgusting specimen – who are your parents and how did you get to know about what happened to me? Because you certainly don’t know anything about cancer research.

I’ll carry on digging, but I suspect that now I’ve mentioned Delyth, all references to her will disappear from the web. Do us a favour Delyth and disappear off the face of the earth. I’m fed up with people who don’t know their arses from their elbows but who have landed themselves plum numbers on the back of what happened to Brown and me.

By the way, Delyth comes from Dyfed, in west Wales. Where that paedophile gang operated who were linked with Dafydd and Ioan Bowen Rees’s lot in north Wales. Perhaps Mark Drakeford, who was a social worker in Dyfed whilst the gang was busy, could let us know who Delyth is?

Delyth the unknown mediocrity was given a peerage in 2004. That was the work of Blair then. Why am I not surprised?