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:


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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’.


  • The Crucible review – an engrossing, fiery evening | Stage ...
  • The Crucible
  • 301 Moved Permanently
  • The Crucible Quotes Explained. QuotesGram

Author: Sally Baker

I am a writer and a sociologist, originally from Somerset, but I’ve been based in Wales for most of my life. I had my first encounter with a mental health professional in 1984 at the age of 21. My GP described this man to my then partner – who also became a sociologist – as someone who had experienced ‘considerable success’. My meeting with this psychiatrist was a disaster and we attempted to complain about his insensitivity and highly inappropriate behaviour. That was the first time we were threatened and pressurised to withdraw a complaint against a mental health professional. This man is long dead – he was a retired psychiatrist from the North Wales Hospital Denbigh, T. Gwynne Williams, who was working shifts in the student health centre at University College of North Wales (now Bangor University). We discovered years later that this ‘successful man’ was notorious – he had been an enthusiastic lobotomist…

46 thoughts on “The Crucible”

  1. Just read Bea Cambell’s past blog post which she wrote after Cecil Parkinson died, in which she analyses the reasons why Sara Keays was shafted by the Tory Party, whom she had loyally served for so long, as indeed had her whole family. Bea performs a simplistic feminist analysis which includes mentions of double standards with regard to women’s and men’s sexuality, the notion that Parkinson’s career had to be prioritised because he was a man etc.

    Bea has missed the crucial point. Parkinson’s reputation was essential to the success of Thatcher’s Gov’t. It was THATCHER’S career that they were all worried about Bea, not Parkinson’s. If the scandal of Sara and Flora had unravelled, Thatcher’s Gov’t would have fallen, the neoliberal experiement in Europe that was being supported by the forces of global capitalism, including those from the US. The global capitalists were looking across at the Windbag and saying ‘no way’.

    In much the same way Bea that I too had evidence that could have brought down Thatcher’s Gov’t, because had anyone investigated my complaints, it would have been revealed that Dafydd was running a trafficking ring supplying kids to Thatcher’s Ministers. It was HER career that they were bothered about, not Dafydd’s. So people tried to kill me. Where were the Labour Party and the feminist movement when that was happening to me Bea??? Er…

    LABOUR PARTY: Next time that you discover that a young academic and her friends have the evidence to bring down a dangerous, insane far right Gov’t, would you just let us get on with it please? Thanks Labour Party!

  2. Cecil was made Energy Secretary then just as crime complaints in Kent arose of company fraud and of sabotage in the supply of emergency back up generators to the civil nuclear industry. 1987.
    All covered up for the Queens Award to Industry company.

    I think the real fear among the Thatcherites was USA flexing its “Qui Tam” muscles. Which of course manifested in the early 1990s. Thatcher’s most damaging restrictive practice of them all “Management Right to Manage”… including falsifying factory test records. The IEE IIRC published about 1983 that their study into electrical engineering managers showed 93% totally unqualified by education or experience. 3.5% arts accountancy or management qualified. 3.5% technically qualified. Thatcher’s Belgrano torpedo was a 1923 design fired because the modern system was too unreliable to risk in war.

    A trained reliability analyst of RN Intelligence was Commander Rob Green whose aunt Hilda Murrell was the murdered Sizewell objector. So yes Belgrano and Sizewell were linked lines of inquiry due to her nephews knowledge and expertise. West Mercia Police accepted this but left the press to pursue their exclusive or conspiracy “Was it Belgrano or was it Sizewell that got Hilda killed “

    1. I’d like to know why Thatcher put the time-bomb that was Peter Morrison in such sensitive and crucial positions: in the Treasury; responsible for Oil at the Dept of Energy; Deputy Chairman of the Party and then as her PPS and organiser of her leadership campaign in 1990. There is something obvious that I’m missing.

      The wrongdoing that took place under Thatch and Major which was concealed at high levels is simply breathtaking. Again and again I find references to the notion that everybody colluded because they couldn’t risk the Gov’t collapsing while negotiations with Reagan, Gorbachov etc were going on. If it was shoplifting we were talking about I’d understand the logic, but it was gangsters trading in young people and children who were murdering witnesses…

      I remember Hilda Murrell’s murder, another 1980s mystery which was never explained. An old lady from Shrewsbury found naked and battered to death, who just happened to be a clever old lady with knowledge and contacts that worried a few people in high places.

      Then there was the cluster of deaths in south Wales, walkers found dead on the Pembrokeshire coastal path and the murders of Harry and Megan Tooze for which their daughter’s boyfriend was framed. He was in the south east of England when the murders happened and there was even video footage of him, so how anyone managed to convince themselves that he was in south Wales killing his girlfriend’s parents I don’t know. I felt so sorry for him and his girlfriend, just a normal young couple caught up in massive police corruption.

      There is so much that I’d like to blog about but I just don’t have the time. I do keep an eye open for political events and trends when I’m writing about the craziness on the ground and one can see clearly how everything was being stage managed by dishonest authoritarian Gov’ts.

      There is loads more about Somerset that I could tell but I don’t have time. Teenagers in Bridgwater in those days knew just how much low life there was seething beneath the Tories of Sedgemooor District Council and Tom King.

      There were the notorious public bogs on the Cornhill which boys refused to use because they were being propositioned by men in there; there were the school bus drivers who were having sex with some of the school girls whom they were driving to school; there was the school bus driver who had been convicted of rape as well as the one who was done for molesting boys. Bridgwater College had serious egg on its face when a student was raped on a footpath when walking to college. She was walking because the College minibus driver was so aggressive and often didn’t even turn up that we all started using the footpath instead. Unpleasant people then started hanging around the footpath because they knew that lone girls were going down there. Students warned the College that they were being followed and threatened but their concerns were dismissed. Then the girl was raped.

      When I was at Bridgwater College the place was filling up with students who didn’t want to be there and whom the College didn’t want there, but mass unemployment had begun to kick in, Somerset was a very conservative place and kids who normally would have gone to work at 16 couldn’t get jobs so their parents told them that they had to go to College, they couldn’t just be unemployed. We could see Thatcher’s failures and social problems all around us but it was all repackaged as a miracle.

      There were all sorts of well-known characters in Bridgwater in those days, quite a few who were the casualties of the Top Docs. There was a drug addict infected with Hep B called Dave Hayward who lived in a barrel in the BRS yard. Dave Hayward looked frightful but as far as I knew he was non-violent. But he did have a penchant for striking up relationships with women with young children… He hit the national press when I was at university. It was reported that he ‘bit a vicar’ and the vicar contracted Hep B. The vicar later died. The truth was that the vicar punched Dave Hayward in the mouth – yes, there were vicars like that in Somerset – and Hayward’s teeth broke the skin and that’s how the vicar contracted Hep B.

      There was the Top Doctor in Bridgwater who was willing to perform an abortion on a pregnant teenage girl at 8 months gestation against the girl’s wishes.

      There were the Top Doctors who ignored the girl of 15 yrs old who contracted gonorrhea and gave it to the older men who were having sex with her.

      There was Tone Vale Hospital which provided permanent accommodation for the nephew of a serial rapist who’s family’s links with the magistrates ensured that he escaped a prison sentence. This boy’s sister gave birth to her stepfather’s baby.

      There was the 14 yr old boy at Chilton School who’s stepmother attacked him with a knife and who’s home was so dangerous that the kind-hearted Bridgwater College lecturer’s family who lived next door would take him in for a few days until the murderous impulses of his stepmother had passed. He was labelled as a problem by Chilton School and later at university he had a breakdown. He was told that he had ‘adjustment problems’ by the Top Docs. No, his stepmother was mad and dangerous and he’d lived with that for years.

      There was the Bridgwater lady who appeared in Fiesta’s feature ‘Reader’s Wives’ in 1980, who’s static caravan subsequently become a popular destination for various unscrupulous men, including some who were boys rather than men, being under 18 yrs old.

      As the 1980s passed, a local enterprising gangmaster ’employed’ a load of illegal immigrants to work for him, paying them a pittance and housing them in a former factory farm.

      It must have been in the late 1980s when a complete bastard who had pissed people off for yrs was subjected to a vigilante revenge attack and was very nearly killed. No investigations, no news reports, but everyone knew what had happened.

      Tom King was the True Blue local constituency MP throughout it all. After Dr Death set up shop, the Tories in Somerset got a bit worried because a lot of people defected to the SDP.

      I have many more such stories. The lives of these people were known to local Top Docs, social workers and Councillors. No-one gave a stuff, they just kept their own nearest and dearest well away from it all.

      Should Dafydd wish to try and dig up any more dirt on me from my teenage years, I wish him all the best. As in north Wales, I watched what professional people in Somerset did to the plebs and it was nothing to boast about.

  3. Re Dafydd digging up dirt on you – you come across as a rebellious thinker even at that young stage in Somerset and that was a threat to ‘authority’. I didn’t know though that psychs have the right to access school records (although of course I understand they would be able to flout any law in Dafydd et al’s case) – is there though on paper anyway, any protocol they should and can go through now to access school records? I keep wondering how they kept track on you when you moved into various jobs as obviously you wouldn’t have asked any of them for references.

    1. Yes I could have been described as a rebellious thinker but I wasn’t ever the sort of kid who could be categorised as ‘seriously troublesome’. I didn’t lie – which of course landed me in it, I’d fess up to relatively minor ‘crimes’ and then all hell would be let loose – I didn’t steal, I didn’t vandalise. When I went to Bridgwater College the other students told me that some of them had been frightened of me at school because I was considered a bit ‘wild’. I did play truant on occasions to avoid the unpleasantness of certain teachers, particularly the vile PE teacher whom I mentioned.

      I think what caused the problem was that I was very bright, so was expected to be the sort of kid who was neatly turned out in the right uniform and to want to be a prefect etc, whereas I was highly critical of the school and world around me. Furthermore, some of the teachers didn’t like my parents and I knew that was being taken out on me.

      There were a small number of teachers who really did like me. It was those at the top who didn’t. In the fifth year, I got a glowing report from every classroom teacher – except for the PE monster – accompanied by A grades, only to find that one of the senior staff had written on the report that these glowing classroom reports did not reflect the true situation! The true situation being Willie Franco insulting me and then suspending me for not having new clothes…

      It was very very easy for former teachers in Somerset to keep track of me. Firstly, Bridgwater is a small place and I had siblings, heaps of cousins, uncles, aunties etc all over Somerset, some of them going through local schools and Bridgwater College long after I left.

      Furthermore, I kept in touch with two of the teachers, believing them to be true friends, only to find years later that one of them was a total predator who had been doing awful things without my knowledge for ages. I have been told that he was the main problem, he is now suspected of having abused young people himself and he was, I have been told, directly in touch with those we know and love in north Wales. After a terrible experience when I went to visit him in 1986 I cut him off, but the damage was done. I didn’t tell anyone but Brown that I’d never go near him again, but he would be bumping into my relatives in Bridgwater and chatting to them as though I was still pals with him, extracting info about me…

      I’ve been informed that the real desire to blow me out of existence occurred after I went to London to work. I failed to respond to bribes as expected, then failed to respond to threats and of course by then not only did I have the shit on the Top Docs crimes in north Wales, but I’d witnessed all the misconduct in the allegedly world-leading London medical schools as well. The Top Docs kept track of me by my CV I am told. Because my CV showed that I had been at Bangor University, everyone knew that I might have been a witness anyway. But it was more sinister than that – once I established a reputation as a whistleblower and someone who could not be bought off, I am told that the word was sent out, phone calls were made everywhere and I was blacklisted. It would have been worth their while doing that, because the wrongdoing was so serious and it involved Gov’t Ministers.

      I now know many of the strategies that are used in medicine to identify and remove whistleblowers. I didn’t know in those days. I didn’t sleep around, I wouldn’t discuss my love life with them – an essential thing if one is to be accepted in medical school circles, they need to tie you in with them emotionally somehow – I didn’t really drink and every time I even simply mentioned a concern, I didn’t back off. When I was told that I didn’t have to worry about that, I repeated that I was worried about it… I also used to express my worries about how certain people were being mistreated. It was all being noted… It wasn’t me being a leftie that did it, medicine is heaving with people who pretend to be on the left, it was the fact that I was rude about people on the left who at the same time condoned the abuse of vulnerable people. Which was of course what everybody around me was doing.

      So there was plenty of tabs being kept on me, although a carpet bombing exercise was undertaken as well, in terms of placing me and my friends under surveillance and paying people to damage us. I also knew that my post was being intercepted and read for years, not just the internal mail in the medical school either. I didn’t know WHY, or who was doing it, but I saw the clues. Then there was the birth certificate of mine which disappeared in the post. It was never traced, God knows what that was all about.

      When I got my paws on the documents, it was a real revelation. For years I did think that many people must have believed the lies that Dafydd et al told them. They didn’t. Everyone in London knew that I had done nothing wrong at all. In letters describing how they were going to get me out of my job, they had written things like I was very bright, very hard working and my behaviour was not a problem! In the same documents they made comments about the extraordinary conduct of Dafydd, but noted that my contract would soon be terminated. It was a criminal conspiracy to protect the suppliers of the Westminster Paedophile Ring and that is obvious from the documents.

      I hate to think what this lot did to other witnesses. Broadmoor and other institutions must have been full of the victims of the Westminster Paedophile Ring who refused to shut up, no-one would have had this enormous machine reaching across the UK medical establishment in place just for me! Just as in north Wales where I could not possibly have been the only patient propositioned by Top Docs and then fitted up when I complained. They would never have dared to behave in such a manner if they weren’t used to doing it. It was an abuse ring that must have been in place for many, many years.

      1. PS. You are quite right anon in terms of flouting any law in Dafydd’s case. It is really funny reading some of the documents which detailed the most outrageous things done or said by Dafydd and how everyone just looked on. Dafydd confessing to illegally imprisoning people, to ringing their lawyers and telling them not to act for them, to doing deals with corrupt police officers, describing me as attractive and seductive, it’s all there in black and white.

        But it was the same if you actually told anyone what Dafydd did. When I told people that he’d threatened me, they’d snap ‘well considering what sort of a person you are, that’s not surprising is it?’ When I told them that he’d tried to bribe me it was ‘he was trying to help you, well he won’t any more’. When I told them that Gwynne and him had basically tried it on with me it was ‘you’ve got a problem with older men, we all know that’. And I’d just be there thinking ‘you lot really have lost it’. Then when I pointed out that Dafydd was cohabiting with two young female patients at once it was ‘well he’s a very kind man, he’s given them jobs and somewhere to live’.

        It was like the sort of stories that went around about the Krays. They’d shoot someone dead in a packed pub and there’d be no witnesses. Or the Monty Python Pyranha Brothers spoof: ‘Did you ever witness Dafydd break the law?’ ‘No no no no no no no no no no.’ ‘Did Dafydd nail your ear to the floorboards?’ ‘Well yes, he did that obviously, but it was for my own good and I really did benefit. I’m ever so grateful.’

        1. Oh yeh and when Dafydd hit me in front of witnesses, the receptionist rang the police and screamed ‘we’ve got trouble here, we need to have a patient removed from this clinic’.

          And on another occasion Dafydd made a fist and raised it above his shoulder, so I said ‘I wouldn’t hit me here Dafydd, there’s five people watching you’. The secretaries and Top Docs that constituted the audience stood there in complete silence. A discussion followed later about all the trouble that I had caused Dafydd by walking into the office where he was.

  4. Oh yeh and when Dafydd hit me in front of witnesses, the receptionist rang the police and screamed ‘we’ve got trouble here, we need to have a patient removed from this clinic’.

    And on another occasion Dafydd made a fist and raised it above his shoulder, so I said ‘I wouldn’t hit me here Dafydd, there’s five people watching you’. The secretaries and Top Docs that constituted the audience stood there in complete silence. A discussion followed later about all the trouble that I had caused Dafydd by walking into the office where he was.

    1. Pretty much like a scene from Chilton School years previously. The worst bully in our year was a real monster called Kay Musgrove. The vile PE teacher that I mentioned, Jane Rickets, made an allegiance with Kay Musgrove. Kay Musgrove’s favourite game was to stand in front of a pupil who was in no way violent and scream in their face ‘You want to hit me then?? You’re going to hit me?? Hit me then, hit me’ and start jabbing at her own face. A smack in the other person’s face usually immediately followed, as Kay ‘defended herself’. Musgrove was in the process of this performance with me one day and she had got to the bit where she was screaming ‘hit me then, hit me, hit me’ and I just said ‘oh for God’s sake of course I’m not going to hit you, go away’, when Rickets came through the door. Rickets heard my comment, looked at me, rolled her eyes and said ‘what ARE you doing now?’ Er, not hitting Kay Musgrove to be precise…

      1. The Jane Rickets who was found in the school gym having sex with a teacher who was married to someone else. As was Rickets.

        Gathered any more statements about me from those who know me best recently then Dafydd?

        1. The Church of England is to ‘review’ George Carey’s role re Bishop Peter Ball, the molester whom Carey and Carlo were happy to support.

          George Carey was Bishop of Bath and Wells for many years.

          Anyone like to ask George Carey why no action was ever taken against the Rev J.F Rigg at Bawdrip? Rigg was well-known as a serial sexual harasser of women in the parish. Women were locking themselves in their houses such a bother was Rigg. At one point 36 complaints were made about him to Carey’s predecessor. At a meeting with representatives of the complainants, it was admitted that Rigg had also fathered a baby with a local lady, who was married to someone else. The spokespeople for the complainants were asked not to go to the police and were told that the Church would deal with it.

          A few months later became the bomb shell. Rigg was also sexually abusing at least one girl in the village. One girl whom he had molested both in the Church and at the Rectory – he invited her over for a confirmation class, rang all the other kids and told them that confirmation class was cancelled, then molested the girl who did turn up – had a breakdown. No-one knew why, until after she was admitted to hospital, when Rigg paid her a visit and was caught red handed molesting her again. He had made her promise God not to tell anyone what he had done and because she was a Christian she had kept her promise.

          Rigg was asked to leave the hospital. He then telephoned the girl’s parents and told them that if they told anyone what he had done, he would make public the identity of their daughter. She had already tried to kill herself and her parents decided that she could not take any more.

          Rigg’s wife was Brown Owl. Rigg used to give the girls lifts to Brownies. Tawny Owl knew what Rigg had done because Tawny Owl was married to the village policeman who had been ordered not to take any action against Rigg or he would face disciplinary action.

          The family of the girl whom Rigg molested stopped going to Church and were denounced by many in the village as stuck up bastards.

          Rigg remained the vicar of Bawdrip for many, many years, until I think he died. In the 1980s he conducted the wedding service of a girl whom I knew.

          Rigg had been moved to Somerset from a parish in I think Lincolnshire because he molested women and girls there. His family were a legal family and among his relatives were members of the judiciary.

          Rigg didn’t like me. Because I wouldn’t accept lifts in his car to Brownies. I knew the girl who had been molested. Brown Owl was absolutely disgusted at my rudeness and I later left Brownies under a cloud. Because I just would not get in the vicar’s car.

          Perhaps Dafydd would like to take a statement from George Carey about that naughty little Brownie??

          As for the Church dealing with Rigg’s sex offending, they referred him to a Top Doctor, who told Rigg that he had a hormonal problem. Rigg himself told everyone that his molesting was his wife’s fault, because they ‘had a brother and sister relationship’ as it was delicately put. Rigg’s wife was decades younger than him and was the daughter of one of his colleagues.

          When Brown heard about Rigg’s activities he commented that it was hardly surprising that Brown Owl didn’t share a bed with Rigg, she’d been married off to a sex offender, who would want to sleep with him? Brown also observed that even if Rigg did have a hormonal problem, that doesn’t demand that a member of the confirmation class is molested.

          A Top Doc in Bridgwater ‘treated’ Rigg for his ‘hormonal problem’. The family of the girl who had the breakdown eventually moved away as a result of the unpleasantness towards them.

          I find it difficult to believe that Rigg will have confined his attentions to only one girl. Not with 36 women who came forward and the admission as to why Rigg was moved to Somerset in the first place. I presume that the other girls all kept their promise to God not to tell anyone what he was up to as well.

          1. Here’s another one for George Carey to explain.

            The Rev Ballard of Stogursey. An alcoholic who was, like Rigg, married to a woman years younger than himself. The Rev Ballard had literary interests and used to pop over to visit Brown’s mum because she had a literature degree, so they enjoyed a good old natter. The kids in Stogursey School saw a different side of the Rev Ballard. He used to go into the school to teach RE. He was very fond of hitting the children, or at least the boys. For very trivial reasons as well. Ballard hit one boy so hard that the boy fell over. The boy was 10.

            The Rev Ballard eventually left Stogursey, much to the relief of the kids in Stogursey School. They didn’t know why, but I did. Ballard had embezzled the dosh from Stogursey church funds. He wasn’t prosecuted. It was explained ‘by the Church’ that Ballard had a wife and five children and that a vicar’s salary was not very generous and of course there was his boozing to fund.

            The Rev Ballard found life as a vicar in Stogursey rather frustrating. Not that Ballard expected to be the vicar in Stogursey for very long. When he first arrived there, he told the local people whom he did condescend to befriend that what he really wanted to be was a Bishop, but unfortunately he had to do the vicaring bit first.

  5. The Rev Ballard was followed by the Rev Pengelly. The Rev Pengelly wasn’t a violent alcoholic, but he did fall out with people. Mr Pengelly was High Church and also refused to allow couples to marry in church unless they had attended church regularly. He took the view that the church was not just there to provide a nice background for the wedding photos. I could see Mr Pengelly’s point, but what he forgot was that in villages like Fiddington and Stogursey, church life is intimately tied up with village life and is not perceived as purely religious/spiritual. I saw a farmer’s wife in tears when Mr Pengelly refused to allow her daughter to get married in the church – she couldn’t believe it, the family had lived in the village for approx 45 yrs, they had lived in Somerset per se for generations and she and her husband had been involved with the church for decades. But their daughter didn’t go to church so that was that as far as Mr Pengelly was concerned.

    Mr Pengelly’s wife caused a bit of upset as well. She wasn’t very bright and came out with comments that caused a degree of upset, or on the part of the local teenagers, entertainment. On one occasion, Mr Pengelly was discussing the Power of Prayer and Mrs Pengelly told the group that prayer definitely worked because when they went on holiday, she had prayed every night for a good Bed and Breakfast and they always found one. Mrs Brown was appalled and said that Mrs Pengelly should not be praying for such trivial things, but Brown, Brown’s brother and I thought that it was hysterically funny. Brown’s brother observed that this was obviously the reason why people’s prayers for world peace were never answered, God was far too busy with an accommodation guide finding the Pengellys good B&Bs.

    Mr Pengelly had a terrible trauma when one of his congregation, a Mr Freeman, had an extra-marital affair with a member of the choir. Mr Pengelly told Brown’s mum that he’d never misjudged a man so badly. Well Mr Pengelly should have asked me or any other former pupil of Chilton School for our opinion of Mr Freeman. He had been an RE teacher at Chilton, he hated all of us and we hated him. He told us constantly that we were a bunch of plebs, that his last job had been at a grammar school in Reading and that things were so much better there. So one of the class asked him why he’d come to Chilton then. Freeman yelled at us ‘because it was a challenge that’s why’. It certainly was a challenge for him coming to Scum Street Comprehensive. Just before we left Chilton, Freeman punched a girl in the face and broke her cheekbone. Her parents went to the police and charges of assault were pressed. He received full support from his union, the case received much publicity of the ‘what teachers are driven to these days’ type and Freeman was acquitted.

    Mr Freeman’s contempt for his pupils was so obvious that he alienated all of them, even those in the A stream who generally behaved themselves and worked hard. Having been a teacher myself, I take the view that teenagers can be cheeky and rude and as a teacher you will have the piss taken out of you daily, but I never got anywhere near feeling like punching a pupil, let alone hard enough to break their bones.

    The only reason why Mr Freeman ever arrived at Fiddington Church was that he’d fallen out with everyone at Nether Stowey Church.

    After Mr Pengelly left Stogursey and Fiddington, a vicar called Tony Applegarth arrived. Mr Applegarth asked everyone to call him Father Applegarth. Then it got really surreal, because at a church get together where people were performing various turns, Father Applegarth had written a song which he then sang, called ‘The Constipation Calypso’ no less.

    Is it any wonder that some of us just could not take the Bishop of Bath and Wells, one Bishop George, seriously?

  6. Dr Sally, I thoroughly enjoy reading your posts – your childhood/teenage years do appear to have been pretty action packed! With all due respect I think that the majority of what you describe goes on pretty much everywhere in one form or another – its not just Bridgwater. In many inner city areas it would be 10 times worse. Obviously to be in the middle of it all would not have been a nice experience. Teenage girls chasing middle age men and vice versa has been going on for yonks and will continue to be so – school bus drivers though should know better and men should be capable of saying NO to underage girls although the way girls dress it is sometimes impossible to tell their age and many of them will lie anyway.
    As a matter of interest do you know if any of these school/college acquaintances are reading your blog? You did mention someones daughter had sent you an email asking why you were describing her father in such an awful way – so presumably they are. Are you getting a lot of communication from these individuals? Must be quite interesting to hear what they have to say for themselves.

    1. Hi
      I would certainly agree that what was going on in Bridgwater was and still is going on across the country. Some areas are much worse than others; north Wales, despite being so stunning beautiful in terms of scenery, was one of the worst areas in the UK for the abuse and exploitation of vulnerable people. Bridgwater was nothing like as bad, but I suspect was worse than some other places, before the surrounding villages became gentrified.

      Yes, school girls in hot pursuit of older men is nothing new and of course the girls get kudos from having a ‘boyfriend’ with a car, income etc. When I was a teenager, the girls were blamed every time if things got nasty, even in cases where they had been targeted by a scumbag. These days, there is a growing problem with the men always being blamed and constructed as predators, even if for example the ‘man’ is a benign 19 yr old and the girl is just short of 16 and the relationship is genuine. No-one seems to acknowledge that there is a spectrum involved. When I was a teenager, a 19 yr old police officer was prosecuted for having sex with what I was told was genuinely his 15 yr old girlfriend, yet real scumbags seemed to be protected. I knew of cases in which men of 30 were having sex with girls whom they knew to be 12. Even if the girls are keen, in that case it is absolutely the responsibility of the man to say no, this is wrong.

      In Bridgwater, as in north Wales, professional people knew all that all this was happening and ignored it. Some found it worrying but felt that there would be no back-up if they raised concerns, others saw the young people involved as ‘just being like that’, yet others were actively hostile to the young people and didn’t acknowledge that some of them at least were only caught up in all this because of the conduct of the adults around them. However the professional people who were so callous towards the disadvantaged kids made damn sure that their own children were well protected…

      I only began blogging about my years in Somerset when I was informed that some of those directly involved with the worst sleaze and sexploitation had given ‘evidence’ to Dafydd et al about my terrible character!

      I did have an e mail from a girl who was at Chilton with me, I didn’t know her well but I did remember her as always being very pleasant. She invited me to a school reunion. While I have fond memories of my friends at Chilton, I was very glad to see the back of that place and I really wouldn’t want to celebrate any part of that institution…

      1. Although I was only given the names of a small number of people from Somerset who were directly in contact with Dafydd and the gang, I was told that there was a considerable problem with their networks then being approached to throw mud at me, even people who barely knew me. Whether they knew what the whole exercise was about I do not know.

        It might explain a few things though.

        When I was 12, there was a girl from Stogursey who struck fear into the hearts of the whole school. She was much older than me, 16 and was known for her aggression and long fingernails – Tizzie Gregory. I only ever knew her because she went on the same school bus as me. She left school in 1976 or 77 and I never saw her again. I did used to hear about her though. She was involved in brawls and fist fights and had taken on the appearance of a butch looking man to such an extent that people wondered what she had done to achieve it, hormones, steroids or what. So imagine my surprise when on a visit to Somerset in about 2006-7, I was told that Tizzie Gregory was going to do me over, so I’d better watch it. My response was to laugh. I hadn’t seen her since I was 12, she wouldn’t recognise me if she saw me and I was now in my 40s working in a university in north Wales and she must have been pushing 50. I had no indication was it was all about and I really didn’t think any more about it, not being someone who gets pissed in the pubs in Stogursey so never being likely to encounter the dreadful Tizzie. But Tizzie Gregory’s desire to do me damage arose at the time when Brown and me had started going public on Dafydd et al and had made it clear that we would publish one day.

        Tizzie Gregory was in turn networked into a whole crowd of people in the area who knew me and relatives/associates of mine from years gone by. Among this wider group were a family called Wheeler, who had all gone to Chilton School. The Wheelers were all boys I think, except for Ruth Wheeler. Ruth Wheeler, when she was about 13, appeared on Jim’ll Fix It and met dear old Jim backstage etc. She got on Jim’ll Fix It by asking if she could ride in the same regiment as her brothers for a day – they were both in that regiment who wear the impressive hats and parade up and down outside Buck House. Jim fixed it with his Royal connections and Ruth Wheeler appeared with Jim on the sofa lisping away about what a lovely day she’d had. It was a PR coup all round.

        Dafydd’s gang definitely were linked to Jim.

        When the bizarre threats from Tizzie Gregory were sent my way, Jim was still alive and kicking and sending writs to anyone who tried to publicise his abuse.

        At about the same time the man in Somerset, who had back in the 80s and 90s received so much dosh when Dafydd et al were wrecking my life, had a run of very bad luck. It was topped off by him getting into a relationship with a woman whom, she claimed, was the ex wife of a city banker who had just bagged a divorce settlement and had moved to Bridgwater. It all seemed rather unlikely. It was then revealed that her son was in prison. But not for a real crime, he was a city trader as well and it was just white collar crime. I met this woman on one occasion and in the way that I knew that David Kirke was no Oxford professor, this woman was no ex-wife of a banker.

        She moved in with the man who had formerly been so affluent and within weeks became phenomenally violent towards him and even his 6 yr old daughter when the little girl was on access visits. The little girl stopped visiting when the harridan who was not a banker’s ex-wife threatened to throw her in the road. The harridan’s violence continued and she trashed the house as well. She told her ‘partner’ that she hated him, she hated his family, she was going nowhere and she would destroy his life. Then her son came out of prison and threatened to kill him. He was not inside for insider dealing, he had been jailed for serious crime involving severe violence.

        It was obvious to me that the Somerset contingent had been targeted by some serious criminals, after having spent years in receipt of dosh from other serious criminals. I don’t know how it all ended because when my father died I had no more contact with them.

        Inhabitants of Somerset: It’s about gangsters. They are nasty people, they do kill people who cross their path and you have been incredibly foolish doing deals with them.

        As for those who backed Dafydd up in his allegations re my wicked ways, one of them was not popular in Bridgwater, as a result of their use and abuse of a whole stream of people. The first victim was many years previously, the only Indian GP in the area. He thought that he was in a relationship with this person and for many months they enjoyed high living – paid for by him – and he showered gifts etc onto what he and everybody else thought was his girlfriend. When he wanted to take things further she refused. Not because she had objections to sex before marriage but because ‘he is a Paki’. Bridgwater Tennis Club were so appalled at the exploitation and racism that they froze her out.

        Dafydd: if you wish to gather evidence regarding my debauched ways, I suggest that you gather it from people other than this crowd. I’m not sure that their judgement counts for very much.

        Regarding people from school being in touch with me – I only had the one e mail that I mentioned above. However my close friend recently received a request to be her Facebook friend from a girl who used to hate us both. The girl in question was a mate of one Tizzie Gregory.

  7. I’ve been told that a boy who I was at Bridgwater College with might have been involved as well – Dick Milthorpe. Dick was one of Pam Sellar’s targets, she hated him and it was alleged that on one occasion she wrote on his report ‘Dick is a liar and a thief’. I was told that CA Street had to send the report back and tell her that you simply can’t make these sorts of statements about students.

    Dick later joined the Metropolitan Police and some former Bridgwater College students told me that they were sorry to hear allegations that he had been involved in corrupt practices there. Unlike Pam Sellars, these people did seem to have some evidence. When Dick was in the Met, he was in contact with the teacher from Chilton who I’ve been informed was in contact with those we know and love in north Wales, Ray Stanlake.

    Another boy from Bridgwater who joined the police, but in Bristol, was Wilf Goodman. Wilf was thrown out of the police for dealing drugs. I’m not having a go at Wilf here, what is my concern is that when Wilf was kicked out, he told everyone that he had been sacrificed to protect other more senior officers who were involved in massive corruption. Which I can well believe.

    1. There was a young American woman who shared the cottage with Stuart, the man who I’ve been told was part of a paedophile ring. She was called Janet Pink, but later called herself Janet Joiner. She had previously lived in Stogursey but moved in with Stuart when she got divorced. I don’t know how she wound up in Somerset at such a young age, she was still only 21 when I met her when I was 12.

      Janet Joiner stayed in Bridgwater and ended up joining the Jehova’s Witnesses no less. She was definitely still in Bridgwater about 10 yrs ago. She was quite irresponsible around kids and young people and she was always on the lookout for blokes to chat up. She took a group of us camping in the Quantocks when we were about 13 and just abandoned the camp because her gas stove had run out of fuel and she couldn’t have a cup of tea. She might have been pissed off, but we were a group of kids of 12 and 13…

      I have mentioned that Stuart’s house was under surveillance by the drug squad. I did find out about that by the time that I was 16 because a police officer boasted about it to someone I knew. He mentioned Janet Pink as one of those whom they were interested in. The person who told me revelled in the fact that the police officer had described ‘Pink and her friends’ as ‘a nest of lice’. Not that the police were any better – the drug squad in Taunton were blasted apart after a corruption investigation. One of those demoted was an Inspector Axe. Who had been one of the people complaining about the activities of Janet Pink and the nest of lice…

      One of the lice worked as a Top Doctor in Taunton Hospital. He was a heroin addict. His dad was a retired Top Doctor and warned someone I knew to keep away from all of them, they were killers and his own son was now in it so deep that he was terrified. A few days later, the person whom this retired Top Doc warned was threatened with murder by two unidentified men who arrived at their isolated house in rural Somerset.

      Nests of lice??? The lice among the professional classes seem to be doing even better for themselves than the lice who are drug taking hippies.

      These are ‘Dafydd’s people’.

      Anything to say BMA? Or are you still advising Top Docs on how to imprison me?

      1. Ray Stanlake died a few years ago. I understand that he suffered from dementia for quite some time before he died. I was told that Jane Rickets left him when he started going downhill ‘because she wasn’t going to look after him’. Rickets did quite well out of old Stanlake though, by the time that they married he was the proud owner of a nice Somerset farm. I was told that the PE teacher from Brum had a wonderful time ‘living off the fat off the land’ and playing the rural lady.

        Presumably Rickets is still alive. So she’ll remember how many parents complained about her dreadful behaviour towards the kids and how every complaint was met with a denial and a lie. Such as the time that she shrieked as at 14 yr old that she was ‘a common slut’. Not only was this witnessed by the whole class although Rickets denied saying any such thing when the girls parents wrote in, but the irony of Jane Rickets casting aspersions on the morality of someone else did not go unnoticed. Sex in the gym, sex in a cupboard on school premises as well I was told Jane.

        There was such as nasty side to Rickets that it put kids at risk. There was one girl whom it was known was quite a serious asthma sufferer. She was equipped with inhalers, Top Docs letters, the lot. She asked to be excused from PE one day. Rickets screamed that she was trying it on and bullied her into running around the school field. She collapsed. The whole class witnessed it. No comeback for Rickets at all.

        What was wrong with you Rickets? What was so wrong with you that you terrorised school kids for years and even intimidated some of your colleagues? Now would you like to make a police statement about the colleague of yours whom we all knew was abusing the boys, as well as the wolf disguised as the childrens’ friend who was in contact with a gang of paedophiles’ in north Wales whom you were married to before you dumped him because you could see that all the dosh was going to be spent on carers? That was the wolf who, while pretending to be friends with my uncle, insulted his children to third parties – yes, I heard about the comments which were made about my cousins – and then caused massive embarrassment at my cousin’s wedding, causing upset on her happy day. I was told about it by loads of people, no-one could understand why Mr Stanlake had behaved in such an awful manner at a wedding, he’s was always such a nice man. As Brown has observed, it seems that by then Stanlake had set up a deep and meaningful friendship with some very unpleasant people in north Wales, so perhaps the disruption to that wedding was planned and deliberate.

        Rickets – and on the sly Stanlake – did enjoy having a dig at ‘thick Somerset people with a reading age of six’. A PhD Rickets. And I’m not the only one from Somerset who didn’t have the benefit of an expensive school who was able and who clocked up degrees. Many more of them could have as well if they hadn’t have been stuffed over by people like you.

        There was one family involved with the Bridgwater Tories who weren’t as dreadful as the rest. They eventually parted company with the local Tories, disgusted at some of what was happening. The thing that really hurt their feelings though was when their daughter failed her 11 plus and they realised that she’d have to go to one of the shite, substandard secondary moderns that existed in Bridgwater in the early 1970s. They had trouble scraping the money together to ‘go private’ and they then realised that their Tory mates didn’t give a stuff about children like their daughter.

        The Bridgwater Tories were very proud of the town’s two grammar schools. Those two schools were good. But Christ, just look at what was happening in the other schools… It’s how people like Jane Rickets found their way into teaching jobs.

        Sadly the local Labour Party didn’t help either because they were in deep denial about what was happening to the less fortunate kids at the hands of the schools, the NHS and the social services… Because the plebs just don’t really matter do they.

        1. Another link between Bridgwater College and hippydom in Wales that someone has reminded me of – the sociology lecturer who worked at Bridgwater College when I was there was the father of a young woman who lived in Teepee Valley. Teepee Valley was one of the early ‘experimental communities’ in rural Wales. Some people were horrified by them and just wanted them gone, other people maintained that they were OK, just not mainstream.

          I didn’t know anyone from Teepee Valley, but I do wonder if like the New Age convoys of the 80s that the original idealists were joined by people with social problems, who’s life became so bad under Thatch that they went on the road and joined the convoy. I did meet a few New Age travellers – I shared a house with two ex-New Age travellers at one point – and some were really nice people but there were others who were rather more troublesome. The two who lived in my house were really kind, in a reserved way. They moved in when Dafydd et al were trying to imprison me, I was in the newspaper after a court case and they sat quietly and read it all. One of them let on that he had grown up in care, that’s why he wouldn’t have anything to do with Top Docs etc, he knew what they were like and he briefed me on how to survive prison if Dafydd’s plan succeeded. I really appreciated that at a time when members of polite society were lying their arses off about me in court. Then my house mate let on that what happened to him had been so bad that he had used a different name from when he was 16 so that they could never ever find him again.

          It is likely that Teepee Valley had been infiltrated by Dafydd’s spotters, to trawl for victims and of course to hunt down potential witnesses.

          1. Just received a message asking me to name Jim Woodley. Jim Woodley was one of the maths teachers at Bridgwater College and his two daughters went to Chilton when I was there. Woodley was a very, very difficult man, although he did like Brown because Brown was cleverer than most of the other students.

            One of Woodley’s daughters was very bright, but the main reason why she achieved was that Jim Woodley gave her huge amounts of tuition himself as home. She went to do dentistry, I think at Manchester. Her sister had health problems and disappeared from Chilton School because it was considered not to be doing her much good. She was given a place at Bridgwater College when she was I think still only 15. There was much bad feeling because it was alleged that Woodley had pulled strings and that Bridgwater College wouldn’t allow anyone else under 16 yrs in.

            I don’t blame Woodley for wanting to save his more vulnerable daughter from the bear pit which was Chilton Trinity School, but perhaps we could now be told the truth about the activities of some of those who staffed that school and Bridgwater College who it seems smeared me.

  8. Now here’s a funny thing.

    There was a family in Bridgwater called the O’Hares. The older children went to Haygrove School and then Bridgwater College with Brown and I. Mr O’Hare was a teacher at Chilton. I never had a problem with Mr O’Hare’s children, but Mr O’Hare was not very nice to some of the kids at Chilton.

    Mr O’Hare was a remedial teacher, so he never taught me, but I was once given a lunch-time detention and Mr O’Hare supervised it. There were two other kids in there with me, one a boy from the remedial class whom O’Hare taught himself and another girl who was bright but seemed to encounter quite serious problems when she was about 14 and was written off by the teachers. These two were messing about and O’Hare was very obviously unable to control them. The boy with learning difficulties then started chundering away to himself and at one point, thinking about someone else, said ‘well she’s a whore’. Mr O’Hare, like me, knew that this was not a comment directed at anyone in the room. Yet he turned to the other girl and said ‘you’re not going to take that from him are you? He’s just called you a whore’. There was then the most enormous scrap between the two kids and O’Hare left the room and returned with another teacher to show that teacher just what a dreadful pair these two were. They were both given further detentions.

    I witnessed this before I went to Bridgwater College and met the O’Hares two older children. The O’Hares had a younger boy as well, Tim. I didn’t know Tim, but my friends told me that he was outstanding and I think that he went to Cambridge when he was still 17. When Tim O’Hare got a bit older, he developed an interest in oceonography and made his career in that field. How do I know? Because when I was working at Bangor and beginning to publish about the mental health services, a new Professor of Oceanography arrived – Tim O’Hare. It wasn’t Tim’s first Chair, he had relocated from elsewhere.

    Tim’s arrival at Bangor when the paedophiles’ friends were foaming at the mouth about my publications may have been coincidental. Bangor has a good reputation for Oceanography and many people want to work there. But Tim rocked up just when Prof Fergus Lowe was giving out senior jobs to people who had known what had happened to me at the hands of Dafydd et al when I was younger, as detailed in previous posts.

    Regarding the girl who had been set up by Mr O’Hare. Within a year she was asked to leave Chilton on account of her bad behaviour. Her behaviour was bad in that she would hurl invective at teachers. But Mr O’Hare was not the only teacher who’s conduct made that likely. There was another teacher at Chilton who was a nightmare, Mr J. Davies. On one occasion he called this girl ‘a 14 year old prostitute’. (She wasn’t.) On another occasion he ordered her to stand in the bin because she was ‘rubbish’.

    Other highlights of Mr J. Davies time at Chilton included kicking the cake around the room that a boy had made in cookery. We all watched Davies do this. When the boy’s mum asked why his cake was in bits he explained what Davies had done. The boy’s mum contacted the school and Davies told her that the bus had run over his cake. Davies then ordered our class to tell everyone that he had not kicked the cake around, the bus had run over it.

    Davies also picked up one boy and threw him across the room, which resulted in him hitting the wall and injuring himself. The boy had not even been talking in class.

    All the kids at Chilton were telling their parents that J. Davies was mad and violent. The school backed up Davies every time. He eventually left Chilton School and took up a job in Plymouth. Within months, we were told that he had assaulted a pupil so severely that he had been sacked.

    A man who took J. Davies’s view that it was his right to violently assault any kid whenever he felt like it was Sid Brown, who taught at Haygrove. Sid Brown went to prison for assault. He then came out of prison and was employed once more at Haygrove. Sid Brown also lived down the lane from Brown’s family and on one occasion pretended to a third party that he was Brown’s dad, which certainly caused confusion. Sid Brown was a Councillor! Unusually for someone who lived in Stogursey, Sid Brown hated Hinkley Point and led a campaign against it. So imagine our surprise, when Radio 4 did a programme on Hinkley, instead of speaking to a compus mentis anti-nuclear campaigner, they interviewed Sid Brown…

    1. I haven’t finished yet, teachers of Bridgwater who might have been tempted to smear me or indeed anyone else.

      I have mentioned that there were major bullying problems at all the Bridgwater Schools. There was at least one attempted suicide as a result. Brown’s brother had an horrendous time, so much so that at one point he ran away from home to escape having to go to Haygrove School. The school ignored repeated representations from Brown’s parents. Brown’s brother was tall and strong and much bigger than the other kids, but not a fighter. It was purely a psychological domination. When Brown’s brother was in his final year, he was subjected to a violent attack by a group of other kids. He flailed around in desperation and his arm banged against one of his assailants’ noses. Because he was so much bigger than them, the boy’s nose was broken. Brown’s brother was then hauled before the Head – for ‘bullying’ no less. His explanation that he had been set upon by a gang was ignored as was the five years of hell that he’d been through. Presumably, the Head was seriously worried lest the worm had turned.

      The Headmaster rang the Browns’ home, whereupon Brown answered, being on a visit home from university at the time. The Head heard a man’s voice and presumed that he was speaking to Col Brown, but he didn’t address him as Col, perhaps because he didn’t know Brown’s dad’s title. The Head just said ‘is that Mr Brown?’. So Brown said ‘yes’. The Head replied ‘your son has just broken someone’s nose’. Brown said ‘good’ and put the phone down. Brown too endured five years of hell at the hands of Haygrove, which was ignored by everyone.

      Then there was the boy who lived in Stogursey who went to Haygrove School who had moderate learning difficulties who’s mother was quite mad and sadistic. Everyone knew about this and it was ignored. One day his mum ordered him to make a bonfire with logs – he was made to work quite hard at home from a young age – and he walked onto the hot logs, in his wellies. The fire was so hot that his wellies melted and welded onto his feet. His mother commented ‘that’ll teach him’ and did not seek any medical help for him at any time. The other kids all knew how this boy’s burnt, injured, rubberised feet had ended up like that.

      1. Do you want me to continue, professional classes of Bridgwater? Because I’m sure that you realise that I could. Your assessments are about as reliable as those of Dafydd. Which might be why some of you colluded with him.

        1. Two more who really must get a mention.

          Dr Lyn Branson and her husband Dr P. Branson. Both taught at Bridgwater College, Lyn Branson taught physics, Dr P. Branson taught chemistry. Dr P. was quite nice actually, gentle and friendly. Dr L. was a nightmare. Dr L was famed for being foul to students, but the Browns and I later got to know her very well.

          Dr L had a baby in about 1981 and suffered severe post-natal depression. She was very ill and ended up in Tone Vale. They probably didn’t do her any good down there, but she wasn’t 14 and from Stogursey so she survived the experience. However Dr L couldn’t cope with the baby and wanted to return to work anyway, so the Bransons hired a nanny. Dr L demanded specialist qualifications but would only pay the nanny about 50p/week and she did enjoy hurling abuse at the nanny, so several walked out. So Brown’s mum was asked if she would look after the baby. Which she did, for about three years – the Bransons’ son was lovely and he kept in touch with Brown’s mum into adulthood, by which time he’d become estranged from his own parents.

          Brown’s mum was bullied and belittled for three years and generally abused by Dr L, until the little Branson went to school. During this time Brown’s brother went off to Newcastle University to study physics. He made a collection of good friends but found the course yawningly boring and his tutor nakedly hostile and downright unpleasant. Brown’s brother eventually withdrew from the course and a few years later did an engineering degree instead. When Brown’s brother withdrew he hoped never to hear anything about that vile tutor at Newcastle again. By that time, the Browns had also had a bellyful of Dr L and wanted as little to do with her as possible. So imagine how horrified everyone was when it was revealed that Dr L and the unpleasant physicist in Newcastle knew each other and had been exchanging info about Brown’s brother…

          Dafydd’s mate Lord John Walton ran Newcastle University and the trafficking gang in Newcastle was linked to Dafydd’s gang in north Wales. Brown’s brother was very friendly with me, used to visit me in north Wales and knew about Dafydd et al. After he withdrew from Newcastle, someone tried to kill him. He later emigrated.

          For many years, we all assumed that Dr L’s contact with the git in Newcastle was just a horrible coincidence. I have now been told in no uncertain terms that it wasn’t. I have no idea of who contacted who first and why, but I am assured that my problems with Dafydd were central to it all.

          I don’t know where the Bransons’ son is now. He left home at a young age and certainly at that time would have nothing to do with his mother.

  9. I have made the point many times previously that Dafydd et al must have been routinely coercing patients into sex work to have even tried to do that with me. It’s not the sort of thing that a middle aged Top Doc suddenly tries to do, backed up by a full corrupt police force, NHS, prison service and MPs.

    I’ve missed the obvious when I’ve been receiving all this info re those who were paid to lie about me, smear me and give false evidence. HOW MANY OTHERS DAFYDD??? How many other people, after complaining about you, were subjected to this technique – you digging out corrupt people from their pasts, people whom they had done all they could to get away from, who were then paid for their ‘evidence’? It certainly illuminates all these appeals in court where those who claim to have been wrongly accused stated that ne’er do wells had been paid to lie on oath about them.

    ‘Oh we’ve got a student of 21 who’s complained about a Top Doctor. We’ll unlawfully access her data from college admission forms, CVs etc and we’ll go back to that dreadfully troubled school that she left six years ago, the school with a shocking reputation, where children were abused and even injured by staff and we’ll pay some of them to lie about her…’

    It’s not really the first response that should spring to mind when a serious complaint has been made about a Top Doc is it?

  10. something else which might have been missed come to think of it Sally. The number of individual medics who have been found guilty of sexual offences over the years since say 1980 is countless. Wondering if there have been any links which haven’t been spotted..

    1. I’ve never done anything approaching an analysis, but a few points are:

      Yes, quite a few medics have been convicted. They tend to get off staggeringly lightly even when the offences are incredibly serious. And a great many return to practice as well. There was a case not so long ago of a psychiatrist who abducted and kidnapped a teenaged girl, raped her and whipped her with barbed wire. She was rescued after she escaped from a bedroom window. If I remember rightly, he did not go to prison – suspended sentence I think – and I think that he remained on the register.

      Just from the cases that I personally know of, there seem to be many cases which never get near a court or a GMC hearing.

      Then there are the medics done for sex with patients when the ‘patient’ is a girlfriend and who may well be the patient of another doctor in the practice, rather than the Top Doc with whom they are having sex. Some of those cases are brought only as a punishment beating by a Top Doc’s colleagues because they’ve got it in for him/her.

      Because the gory state of medicine is simply never admitted by anyone in the UK, it is very difficult for people to imagine that there are many Top Docs getting up to this sort of thing, let alone carrying on like Dafydd. The jury’s – and general public’s – instinct is to say ‘surely this can’t be true?’. Of course if the patient is a mental health patient, there is a feeling of ‘ooh well, she/he really might have imagined this’. I never blame the general public for not grasping what is happening because they really have been kept completely in the dark. But I know damn well that every judge, police officer, lawyer, NHS manager, Angel, Top Doc and many journos know that particularly in psychiatry, dangerous and abusive doctors are a very big problem. They are in psychoanalysis as well, even among the expensive elite circles.

      Of course Top Docs are in a vulnerable situation in which they are alone with patients who may be unclothed, which theoretically means that it would be very easy for someone to make allegations. And it is true that there are some people who do make false allegations or who genuinely misinterpret a situation. But those problems are small in comparison to the problem of Top Docs abusing their position. Most of them who are doing it really do get away with it and for their whole careers as well. Neither is it true that they get away with it because of ‘stigma’ re mental health patients or other professionals ‘not believing’ the patients. It is because, as with the organised paedophile gangs who infiltrated children’s homes in the 70s and 80s, the reality is so dreadful that the state just won’t dare admit it.

      By the way, George Osborne’s brother, Adam, a Top Doc, (psychiatrist), was some years ago, done for flogging Class A drugs. He was allowed to continue practising. After that, he appeared in front of the GMC for selling drugs to a prostitute; for having sex with one of his patients; asking her if she’d like to join in a group sex session with him and his wife, also a Top Doc; threatening the patient after she complained about him. Adam Osborne’s wife also threatened the patient.

      Adam was finally struck off for that lot. The last I heard, his wife had not been. The Daily Mail really went to town on the story. The Torygraph did not publish it. Adam was a Tommy’s graduate, the favourite hospital of the nation’s politicians.

      I have been told that the Angels and other female staff of Tommy’s have a long and glorious tradition of shagging Westminster figures. And probably these days now that so many in Westminster are women, there’ll be a few male Top Docs bonking politicians as well.

      No-one who has not worked in medicine has any idea how badly corrupted the field is. There is a mass delusion about the standards in UK medicine and because the UK exports so many Top Docs to other English-speaking countries, their healthcare systems are becoming contaminated as well. This is serious stuff and politicians are so frightened by it that their heads are very deeply in the sand.

      Even when shortcomings are admitted, it is so sanitised that it is laughable. There is a shock horror report today about new mothers not being able to get mental health care. It was stated that it takes an average of 17 days to ‘see a health visitor’ for mental health concerns and that most women are ’30 miles away from a specialist unit’. Here’s the truth:

      There is not one specialist mother and baby unit for mentally ill mothers in the whole of Wales. There are very few such units in England.

      The only ‘screening’ for mental health problems that new mothers usually receive is a tick box questionnaire that they fill in themselves. Because mental health care for mothers is so bad, the usual process if a woman becomes ill is to separate her from her baby. Word has got round about this and mothers not coping are far too terrified to admit that they are not lest their babies are taken away. This is a real possibility, not paranoia. So the mothers are lying on the self-assessment forms.

      Midwives are no longer taught about peurperal psychosis, so they do not recognise it. Some nursing schools are teaching student midwives that it is a ‘Victorian illness’ which ‘doesn’t exist anymore’. It does exist. It is real, it is quite rare but it is very serious. Women with peurperal psychosis are going to prison for child cruelty or child neglect, when they are simply very ill.

      There is virtually no mental health care for new mothers.

      The UK is staring into an abyss where health care is concerned. It needs to wake up, admit that there is one hell of a problem which is unrelated to ‘resources’ and begin the clean-up. Praising a dangerous corrupt NHS and medical establishment is not the answer.

      1. Organised criminal activity in the NHS asks Dr Haynes
        Keep your head down and collect your cash says Dr Craig Melrose Medical Director NHS England North East & Cumbria.
        Drug diversion, child sexual exploitation & trafficking, financial fraud and murder. I told them.

        1. Quite a few people have told them Dr Haynes and they, like you and me, produced evidence. We were not simply ignored. Co-ordinated attempts organised at Gov’t level were made to destroy our careers and in my case imprison me. Rogue thugs paid by I do not yet know who tried to kill me.

          It’s mad. Little wonder that Joe Public would never, ever believe what is going on.

          But then Jimmy Savile was carrying out the most serious crimes on child NHS patients as long ago as the 1970s. Yes, people did know, no matter what lies Dame Janet Smith told in her report. People definitely knew what Savile was doing. I was told by two people in 1988 and by another person in 1989. They knew. No-one stopped him.

  11. Think I’m exaggerating?

    Let me remind everyone of the case of Prof Clare Wenger. Prof Wenger was a retired member of Bangor University staff who’s research area was old age care. Wenger had been a Gov’t adviser and had led one of the biggest studies in the UK re old age care. Clare Wenger wasn’t always popular, but she did know her stuff.

    Some 10 yrs ago, Clare was admitted herself to an elderly ward in Ysbyty Glan Clwyd – the hospital where abuse of the elderly so serious was filmed three yrs ago that it landed the hospital in special measures and two investigations followed.

    Clare was so horrified at what she witnessed in the ward where she was that she took extensive notes and compiled an extensive report. Some of the abuses and neglect witnessed by Clare Wenger were so serious that they were life-threatening. Clare sent her report to over 100 of her contacts, including healthcare researchers, Top Docs, politicians and NHS managers. Not one person supported her in public. In private, everyone admitted that they knew that the ‘elderly wards’ in Ysbyty Glan Clwyd ‘were terrible’ and that they would never let their relatives go there. I was told by Clare’s former PhD student, now a Professor advising the Betsi and Welsh Gov’t and someone in receipt of a £4 million grant to advise India on its healthcare provision, that she was sorry that Clare had a hard time, but she was a stuck up cow. Note that she did not disbelieve Clare. This Professor said not one work in support of Clare exposing patient abuse.

    Clare was denounced by Ysbyty Glan Clwyd as a snobbish bitch who wanted special treatment and who should have gone private. Clare explained very clearly that she didn’t want special treatment, neither were most of her complaints about herself – she witnessed the abuse of other patients.

    No-one responded to Clare’s concerns. Seven years later the Tawel Fan Scandal blew up at Ysbyty Glan Clwyd. Elderly patients were filmed crawling around naked on floors covered in urine and faeces. One patient had an untreated fractured arm. Angels were filmed swearing at patients and discussing their sex lives. No-one resigned. No-one was disciplined – except for the nurse who blew the whistle, who was sacked and struck off. All staff who were filmed abusing those patients are still employed. Some of them were relocated to another ward where weeks later they abused more patients. They were still not sacked.

    What has to happen? Are the nation’s politicians just mad? People are DYING and going to prison because the nation’s Top Doctors are so endemically corrupt.

    Clare Wenger is a respectable older senior academic who specialised in old age care. She could be ignored because she’s a posh bitch.

    I’m half a posh bitch and half a pleb. I’m half Somerset and half-semi-Welsh. I’ve got a degree in biology, an MSc in pathology/clinical pharmacology and a PhD in sociology. I’ve also taught student nurses and care workers. I’ve published academic work on the biochemistry of cancer, on health care policy, on social work, on education and on neoliberalism. As well as on a few other things. Oh and I’m the Voice of the Patient as well.

    The response to my allegations that very serious abuse of vulnerable people is endemic in the NHS/social services? The Top Docs repeatedly tried to fit me up for serious crimes to imprison me, for which I have 10,000 pages of documentary evidence.

    Is it only when a relative of Dafydd’s gets bludgeoned to death by Angels that it will be admitted that there is a problem?

    1. Yes I know that, but how does one explain that I spent more years in Wales than in England, that I felt that I had far more in common with Wales and the Welsh than people in most parts of England and that most of my friends were Welsh in the context of the sentence that I wrote? Furthermore I was sort of hoping that my readers would be intelligent enough to work out what I meant.
      Just for the record, to really piss you off now, I’ll let you know that my maternal grandmother was, er Welsh. She moved to Somerset as a young woman, married my grandpa and stayed in Somerset. But she was Welsh…

      God I really wish people who do not know me would stop jumping to conclusions about me…

    1. I did realise that but I was happy to provide a brief explanation. I have now received yet another asinine comment from whoever anon was, so no I will not bother to respond to them again unless I receive a somewhat more intelligent response…

      1. I was given a tip which is whenever tempted to write “Also” stop and consider.

        An anon is someone who craves influence without consequence.

    1. I understand the points that you both make, the message was aggressive and designed to needle me.

      One reason why I responded to it was that in Wales the notion of Welsh identity or not is real hot potato. There is a genuine feeling on the part of many that Wales has been treated dreadfully by England for generations and that a great many English people are nakedly racist towards Welsh people. My view is that both of these perceptions are substantially correct. Look at what Westminster Gov’ts have done to Wales – it is disgusting. As an English person in Wales, on many occasions another English person heard my English accent and felt able to make the most dreadful comments about ‘the Welsh’, because they presumed that I would feel the same way.

      The attitude that I encountered on the part of some English towards ‘the Welsh’ was exactly the attitude that certain people had taken towards me and others when I lived in Somerset – we were cave dwellers and we didn’t matter. I was aware of similar attitudes to rural people in east anglia or other parts of the west country. My PhD supervisor described this as effectively a colonial attitude.

      Despite the grief that I received from Dafydd et al who maxed out on their capital as ‘Welsh’, I always felt a lot of sympathy for ‘the Welsh’ when I heard racist abuse thrown at them. Because in Wales there are issues of language and nationality involved, the shite attitude towards ‘the Welsh’ is disguised – it is really just another example of a dominant class crapping on another class. Wales IS an underdog to ‘England’, just as Dafydd’s victims were underdogs to all those professional Welsh people who treated the underdogs so badly. Dafydd et al played a very clever game maxing out on their Welshness – they were treating their countrymen appallingly, absolutely appallingly and were making a good living colluding with serious organised crime based in England. They need exposing as does their ham patriotism.

      So if someone snaps at me ‘you’re not Welsh’, it could just be that they do not realise that I do have a degree of understanding about such matters and thus it might be worth me clarifying my position. However, it is often just a shitbag trying to be insulting. The subsequent e mail that I received from whoever was so cross that I ain’t Welsh confirmed that.

      1. Well we lived in Wales 8 years. And we made our own minds up ….. about the Welsh ………

        My wife said as my lung damage was deteriorating there would be the time when the Welshies in the valleys stopped being scared of me. She wanted to move before that happened. So we moved.

        Our daughter had a Welsh accent. Went into a pub and a Welshie spat in her face and said “get back to England”. So I had a letter published in the press inviting Welshie to meet me her 18 stones English dad. No answer. So I started picqueting the pub at closing time all on my own.

        The Welsh hated it. All the “Hewn from Valley Rock” self licking lollipop cobblers. They would keep their distance avert their eyes and scarper.

        Then a threat letter was published in press. False name and address. But I got a job on security on the newspaper night shifts and started searching to see if I could identify the letter writer. Editor got scared and told police. I told him don’t publish Welshie anon threats if I can find out who he is I will rip his ribs out and stick them sideways up his Welsh backside to see how well he sings falsetto. What you must never do as English living in the valleys is show weakness. They are racist scumbags swimming in grant aid. Sorry but we learned about the Welsh first hand.

        1. What you experienced Richard was not ‘Welsh’. There is absolutely nothing within the gene pool of Welsh people which manifests itself in any of this!

          Many north Welsh refuse to accept the ‘Welsh’ of whom you complain as being ‘real Welsh’ anyway…

          Every bit of aggro that I ever witnessed or experienced in Wales was bugger all to do with national identity – that was used as an excuse for people who had an axe to grind for other reasons. Racial hatred has been whipped up by some, including the paedophiles’ friends, for their own purposes.

          Wales now has a good chunk of children of people like me – English people who moved to Wales and made friends with locals – who consider themselves Welsh and speak Welsh fluently.

          Yes, some people do have the sort of experiences that you had in Wales. It is nothing to do with race/nationality. The valleys are indeed swimming in grant aid and it hasn’t done much for many people there. A few at the top of the tree have done very nicely out of it as have the paedophiles’ friends sitting in the Senedd and Westminster. The folk of the valleys have been ripped off and a lot of them know it. You encountered a few criminals ruling the roost in a region which has been wrecked. You get vile people in England as well…

          1. Dear All
            I have just received an e mail from a regular correspondent who is concerned at people who are making ‘snide comments’ on this blog while under the umbrella of anonymity. They understand that when discussing some of the matters dealt with on this blog that anonymity is necessary, but have asked me to make it clear that telling me that I ain’t Welsh is hardly a matter for anonymity.

            It seems that the person who questioned my racial origins is generally perceived to have behaved unacceptably.

            I do publish every comment that I receive for publication unless it is threatening, libellous or contains info which could put someone in danger. Blogs like this often stand accused of not publishing people who ‘disagree with them’. I don’t close people down because I disagree with them.

            I too don’t believe that there is much to be gained by e mailing someone who is exposing serious abuse and corruption to tell them that they ain’t Welsh. But I gave my reasons earlier for publishing the comment.

            Apologies to all readers who have been irritated by the idiocy of whoever wrote that I ain’t Welsh…

  12. No Sally. What goes on in valets is pure anti English racism. What happens when you arrive is other English tell you “3 years”. That is the average time easy going English put up with Welsh racist rhetoric.

    I didn’t believe anything would bother me.

    But about 3 years in our daughter history book had a note “The English defeated the Welsh and imposed a tax called tithes on the Welsh people to pay for the English church the Welsh did not support”

    Then like an automaton I picked up the phone “Are you the Welsh snot teaching history mate ?”

    I offered to introduce him to the last Suffolk man still fighting C of E in the Suffolk tithe war.

    He bumbled on about pride in his “Valley heritage”

    I said “Then valley heritage is about lying mate. Tithes were not a universal tax on the Welshies. You are a liar.” The point is that lie had been taught as history to the valley racists for generations.

    1. I am not denying that people have the sort of experiences that you had. Neither am I denying that there are some ‘teachers’ and others who misrepresent history. What I am challenging is that these things are a manifestation of simple anti-English racism that is widely held on the part of ‘the Welsh’.

      Again and again I watched closely the alleged anti-English racism in north Wales. I knew a small number of Welsh people whom I know did not like me because of my alleged Englishness. I also knew damn well that their real reason for not liking me was my knowledge of Dafydd et al, with whom some of them were associated. But some English people hated me for the very same reason. The vile and abusive Arfon Community Mental Health Team had not one member who could speak Welsh, although the policy of Gwynedd County Council, then led by the CEO, the supposedly Welsh patriot Ioan Bowen Rees, was to only employ Welsh speakers. The English thugs of the Arfon team hated me and hated many others, English and Welsh. They could have been dismissed by Ioan Bowen Rees on the grounds of language alone, let alone the abuse of clients, but they weren’t. Because they were the henchmen of the paedophile gang.

      Richard, on a very small number of occasion I was verbally abused for being English. I never actually took that as the feelings of the Welsh nation towards me, because I knew tons of other Welsh people who made it clear to me that that bunch did not speak for them. I also watched the self-appointed Welsh patriots grossly abuse other people every bit as Welsh as them. I was hounded out of Wales not because I was English but because I took on a bloody paedophile gang, run by Dafydd et al but serving the interests of those whom Dafydd et al pretended to loathe in Westminster, the most English of the English.

      I don’t know the Valleys so well, but I have friends down there who are mates with both Welsh and English. I was told by one Valleys politician that the corruption in Wales was horrendous and that it was causing huge problems. That politician is well aware that people like Dafydd and Ioan Bowen Rees were causing havoc while hiding under the umbrella of language, nation and identity and because there IS a history of the English trying to obliterate the Welsh language and treating Wales badly, Dafydd et al got away with this. If one is an historian, one understands the complexities of the history, but most people aren’t historians…

      Talking of historians, yes, there is a certain version of history that is sometimes taught in Wales which is not accurate. (That happens in England too.) However, who was it who challenged the romantic simplistic version of history ‘English bastards, Welsh good’ so often encountered? The Welsh Labour Historians in the 70s and 80s. They put forward a Marxist analysis and argued that the Welsh middle classes had oppressed the Welsh labouring classes, along with the English landed gentry. There were a lot of people who loathed the Welsh Labour Historians, including some Welsh people. Many of the Welsh Labour Historians were Welsh themselves by any definition and some were from north Wales and were first language Welsh. Other ‘Welsh patriots’ threw as much mud at them as possible because they had highlighted an uncomfortable truth.

      If one is English in Wales one will be told by some that you’re hated because you’re English. You’re not, it is much more complex. In the north, I was told constantly that north Welsh were prioritised for jobs in Bangor University and that you couldn’t get a job with Gwynedd County Council if you were English. Well the Arfon Mental Health Team worked for Gwynedd County Council. I knew other Welsh speakers born and brought up in north Wales who had left jobs with Gwynedd County Council because of what they alleged was the appalling bullying and corruption. I was told that if you weren’t in Dafydd Iwan’s clique you’d had it. A few years later I was told that if you fell out with Dyfed Edwards your life wasn’t worth living. I knew three outstanding academics at Bangor University who were all from north Wales who’s first language was Welsh. They were loathed by the defenders of language and nation. One was frankly bullied out, the others gave up and went elsewhere.

      It is sad and if you are an ‘incomer’ very confusing. But it’s really about corruption rather than racism.

      As for the state of south Wales. Who benefited from the scam that was the development of Corruption Bay? Nicholas Edwards, Thatcher’s right hand man and his business associates. They made millions. The twats who colluded with it who were Councillors in south Wales at the time did pretty well out of too – they ended up in the Senedd. Jane Hutt, Julie Morgan, Mark Drakeford, Alun Michael. The daughter of one of them is now the Baroness of Ely. It was a bonanza. The rest of south Wales was left with nothing.

      It is very hard when you have racist insults spat at you by people whom you have never harmed in your life. But it is essential to look at what is happening around them to get the gist of what is behind it.

      1. Three years of tolerance. Then you argue and you correct them on history and you never go back to tolerating Welshie racism again. And if they push it then they must be knocked the heck out.

        When we moved out… my wife and youngest daughter were in Kent. Oldest daughter and I went back to Wales in hire van to move the house contents. You know the weight of the old auto washing machines. The Welshies saw me grin and carry ours out on my own with ease. Then I just nodded to tell them get in your houses till I have left. And in they went. Whole street of the turds.

        No Sally were any of them concerning themselves about a Kent family who had been living in a tent ? No they called us rich south east. We tolerated it 3 years then the racist Welshies had to be subdued. They are awful people.

        1. I do know that people like this exist. I was constantly stereotyped as a privileged, stuck-up cow who had never had to go without by people who knew nothing about me at all. But then there were some people in Somerset who said that about me, who knew nothing about me at all. It’s called ignorance and making assumptions and it goes on in places other than in Wales as well.

          I do agree that when one comes up against pure racism, expressed by people who have sufficient knowledge to know that they are being racist, then it cannot be tolerated. The most recent example that I can think of from Wales happened at about the time that I left Bangor University. A PhD student in the Dept where I worked was treated appallingly by a grossly incompetent, bullying PhD supervisor who was alleged to be a Welsh medium specialist. She was actually as thick as they come, should never have been given her job and had worked as a social worker in Caernarfon when the paedophile gang had operated there. She was pure poison and had a long history of making life miserable for so many colleagues.

          She did not have the ability to supervise this young man and her other PhD student – yes, someone gave her two of them – was a very able young woman from south Wales who was treated as a second class citizen by her for years. The young woman was so bright that she successfully completed her PhD without any support from the PhD supervisor. However the young man was not so able. He never received the guidance that he needed and wrote a very poor thesis. Others in the Dept knew, were very worried, but his bitch of supervisor ignored all concerns and would not let anyone help. The young man had a disastrous viva, was treated very badly by the examiner and was told to rewrite the whole thesis.

          I and others felt very sorry for him, this was not his fault, he had been completely let down. His ‘Welsh medium specialist’ PhD supervisor walked away from him. I and a number of other – English – staff rallied around and a Professor (English) took him under his wing, mentored him and many months later after a rewrite, the young man got his PhD. At his graduation, his parents were kind enough to thank me and the others for helping him. We did not mind, we wanted to.

          It then became very sad. The ‘Welsh medium specialist’ had plagiarised a research idea of mine, submitted it to the Board of Celtic Studies and bagged a grant for it. She had given the job which the grant had financed to the failed PhD student as an act of ‘kindness’. He knew that it was my idea she’d stolen. I didn’t say anything because I took the view that he had not stolen the idea or suggested to her that she should do this. The young man lived on that income while I and others mentored him through the rewrite of the PhD.

          Once he had his PhD, the young man immediately bagged a well paid full time lecturing job in the Dept where we all worked, on a scheme to boost the numbers of Welsh language specialists. That is not a scheme that I have a problem with. However, I had very big problems with what happened next.

          He told another young post-doc, a Polish girl, that she should not be given a job at Bangor University because the jobs should go to Welsh people. The young Polish woman was an outstanding PhD student and she had actually won an award for being one of the best twenty PhD students in THE WORLD. She did not publicise her achievement because of the hostility and racism which she felt was around her. She asked her supervisor not to announce her prize anywhere. She had also been a friend to and a supporter of the young man when he had failed his PhD. Growing up in Poland when she did, she had experienced a far tougher life than this young man had.

          Soon after that, my own funding ran out. I was made redundant. Because of the threats to my life I left the area and I had to be careful with regard to returning to north Wales. I did go back a few times because I was writing a paper with my old colleagues. On one occasion I went to have lunch in the Blue Skies cafe in Bangor. On the table next to me was the man who had failed his PhD, lived on the money from my idea which had been stolen, utilised my help to rewrite his thesis and then bagged a plum number before telling my Polish friend that she did not deserve a job. He completely ignored me from the moment that I sat down to twenty minutes later when he left the cafe. Well he’d got the job from my research idea, he’d used me to pass the PhD which he had failed thanks to the ‘Welsh medium specialist’ and now I was redundant and he had everything that he wanted. Presumably I was no use to him any more.

          I was told several times that this young man and his family were racist shits, but I did not believe what I was being told and respond to that. The family had a complex history and the young man’s grandparents had been involved with fighting for Welsh language rights when that was a very big struggle and sorely needed. They had always presented their support for the language and associated activism as the legacy of the hard time which Welsh speakers of a previous generation endured. I could accept that, people were treated dreadfully back then.

          The more recent generations of that family had not struggled. An uncle of the young man who bagged the plum job was Chair of the Welsh Language Board, his mum had a job at Bangor University and his dad was a social worker (yes, I did notice, but I do know a very small number of non-corrupt social workers, so I did not make assumptions). This young man’s two brothers also bagged jobs at Bangor University. Yes, I’m afraid that everyone else was proved right in the end. A family of complete and utter turds and it would seem racist turds at that. Perhaps the father of Dr Cynog Prys, now that his son has pissed all over me and my friends who came to his rescue, would like to tell the police what he knows about that paedophile gang which was facilitated by so many social workers in Wales…

          I think that Cynog and his clan have done even more damage to Welsh medium education than his fuckwit of a supervisor, Dr Delyth Morris.

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