17 years old or about then anyway, I'm working in Friern Barnet Psychiatric Hospital. Each morning, I'd have a lovely walk along the North Circular, before going up Colney Hatch Lane and getting in just before 7 am. It was also known as Colney Hatch Asylum.
A strange building, it has now been converted into some expensive apartments. Back then, it stood in its own grounds, big, heavy metal gates at the entrances, yet a 3 foot wall around part of the rest of the place. The hospital was essentially two long corridors, crossing each other (one is said to have been the longest corridor in Great Britain at one time), with a few newer looking buildings tacked on. A victorian institution, where most of the inmates had been kept for at least 30 years or more.
Just a storeman, moving things about on pallets, filling in orders from the wards from tea, coffee, biscuits, fruit, butter and jam. Twice a day, we have the big plastic crates from wards with their orders. A regular routine. Tea made on the hour every hour by Elvis, one of the inmates who works in the stores. There are about 5 or 6 of them usually. It's called therapy, but it was just out of the wards, on their meds and doing simple stuff for them. Most of the time they were on a day patient regime, and the work was part of that I guess. Sometimes, one of the patient workers would fail to show and there'd be a great debate on where they were? After a day or two they either returned, or someone new turned up.
We had 4 staff, as well as the patient workers. Johnny S, who was a small dynamo of a bloke and in charge of the stores. A keen St John's Ambulanceman and cinema organ buff. You know the sort, they rise up out of the floor usually in some old movie, or episode of Columbo with some masked and cloaked figure playing a doom stricken tune. He had worked there for a couple of ages or so, fair and square, no nonesense with a big grin. If you have to have a boss.....
Then there was an older man, who I can't remember the name of though I can picture him clear as daylight in front of me now, with his long buff warehousemans coat, hair and skin a pale grey. The name Harry seems to fit, so you can picture him. He was not long for retirement, and moved at the same slow pace all day, you would almost expect to see him wearing slippers. He had been in the last war, and lost a lung for his troubles. 'They put a plastic bag of ping pong balls in there' he told me "I'm used to it now, mind." He didn't worry, "when it happens it happens", he said.
There was also another storeman, whose name has slipped by me. He had been working there quite a few years, in his mid 30's I think. We didn't get on. I did my job well, and well...he didn't. I ignored him and spent time inbetween orders reading and nattering with the patients.
In some ways, the patients scared me, not being that au fait what schizophrenia was, just seeing someone who would suddenly stand up and proceed to march round the stores talking in turns softly, then screaming out loud. Depression was not on the map, asylums were still more asylums than hospitals. As the place got to be familiar, I soon got used to it. Not everyone there was necessarily mentally ill.
One older patient reckoned he had ended up there by accident. He had nothing wrong with him mentally, bright as a button, sharp as a razor. It was that this was somewhere he had ended up and figured he would end his days there. He had some odd ailment where they couldn't pin it down, so it was easier to shunt him into Friern Barnet. He didn't mind. He was looked after and had the occasional visit from a sister. He told me about the war, being a merchant seaman and travelling all over the shop. Old he may have been, but mad, never. Just another misdiagnosis.
I got thinking of the place today, when a song popped into my head and wouldn't shake off. Dennis Brown "Sitting And Watching" is the title of the tune. I first heard of Dennis Brown with his "Money in my pocket" hit way back in the 70's. After that, it was the occassional song on John Peels show. Most of my reggae came from John Peel, taping his shows and taping the songs I wanted off onto another C90.
The second year I was at Friern Barnet, there was a young african guy who was working in the stores. Another patient who was sent to replace the older ex merchant seaman when he passed on. We used to talk about music, and he lent me a couple of Dennis Brown albums. The one song I always remember is from them is 'Sitting and watching' .
It's been a long time since I heard that song, but today it seemed to be a good day to play it.
have a listen....
...just the music, nothing but the music... ...just listen, though :D
oh, and if you remember Money in my pocket, this is the full 12 inch extended version to enjoy (yes, youtube...spinning record...)
:D
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