AND
THAT WAS THAT.
The seventies (continued).
The man from the ministry
was
Sir Richard Hayward CBE (1910 - 1994), regarded in some quarters as a poacher turned
gamekeeper, but a pleasant bloke man
to man. I met him at the wet end of Ryde Pier and drove him to the
Executive Council offices for his appointment with my boss. I was
quietly impressed by him and he was openly impressed by my elderly,
midnight blue, Humber Hawk. (Of all the cars I ever owned that one
was my favourite, too.)
It transpired that the forthcoming NHS shakeup planned to bring together the disparate governing bodies of hospital, family services and local health. Area Health Authorities would be formed and, since it was an island, the IOW would have its own Area Authority. At the same time, Executive Councils would be disbanded. (City offices like Portsmouth and Southampton would be closed down entirely and taken over by the County office.) Nationwide they would all be replaced by Family Practitioner Committees with brand new members and lay chairpersons.
It was a prize example of the political/civil service maxim: “If it ain't broke, for chrissake mend it.”
Executive Councils were Insurance Committees up until 1948 when the newly formed NHS took them over, amended their function and renamed them. They were run by Clerks who, in the main, were qualified Insurance Institute members and knew their business.
I don't know whether the same could be said for hospital management which was predominantly headed by the medical profession until the establishment of the NHS. Non-medical administrators were then recruited, largely from local government departments which, in all too many cases (I always thought), must have been bloody glad to see the back of them.
In 1974 they, together with all the Clerks of E.C.s and allied health bodies, were to find they were jobless and their jobs had been put up for grabs. They could, of course, reapply for that job or they could seek a similar or improved post elsewhere.
The new Authorities (Sir Richard told local heads of departments) would have new members and they would choose their own top officers to suit new, forward thinking, requirements.
By the time this esteemed Departmental spokesman had departed, all the top dogs in health on the Island (other than those already on the retirement list) were hastening to hone their interviewing techniques and assess the opposition on their ladder to Area Health Authority greatness. The smell of ambition was palpable.
My own boss went for an interview at Portsmouth E.C., where my old boss had just retired. I might have gone for it but, in the circumstances, judged I would stand no chance. In the event, my boss was offered the job and tactfully turned it down. It transpired that he was also in the lineup of hopefuls for the post of Area Administrator on the Island. He was interviewed for that and he got it.
I became Acting Clerk of the IOW E.C. for the last six months of its existence (which included all of Ted Heath's three day weeks).
The Portsmouth and Southampton E.C. offices were duly closed down. The boss at Southampton was four years away from retirement and of similar experience to my old Pompey boss. He joined the shortlist for the post of IOW FPC Administrator and, unsurprisingly, was appointed. I was shortlisted, but the interview was a formality; in that company I was not to be remotely in the running.
Much later I learned that Departmental specialists like Sir Richard, who had been sent to disseminate reorganization propaganda nationwide, had left firm advice that where Clerks departed from Executive Councils their Deputies should not replace them as Administrators of the new Family Practitioner Committees: such vacancies should be filled by outside applicants. So the 1974 reorganization changed my title from Deputy Clerk to Assistant Administrator. And that was that. (To be continued.)
HOME.
Surprises.
Maureen had a change of hair style. (We both tend to be rather conservative about such things.) I like it and everybody says it suits her.
It transpired that the forthcoming NHS shakeup planned to bring together the disparate governing bodies of hospital, family services and local health. Area Health Authorities would be formed and, since it was an island, the IOW would have its own Area Authority. At the same time, Executive Councils would be disbanded. (City offices like Portsmouth and Southampton would be closed down entirely and taken over by the County office.) Nationwide they would all be replaced by Family Practitioner Committees with brand new members and lay chairpersons.
It was a prize example of the political/civil service maxim: “If it ain't broke, for chrissake mend it.”
Executive Councils were Insurance Committees up until 1948 when the newly formed NHS took them over, amended their function and renamed them. They were run by Clerks who, in the main, were qualified Insurance Institute members and knew their business.
I don't know whether the same could be said for hospital management which was predominantly headed by the medical profession until the establishment of the NHS. Non-medical administrators were then recruited, largely from local government departments which, in all too many cases (I always thought), must have been bloody glad to see the back of them.
In 1974 they, together with all the Clerks of E.C.s and allied health bodies, were to find they were jobless and their jobs had been put up for grabs. They could, of course, reapply for that job or they could seek a similar or improved post elsewhere.
The new Authorities (Sir Richard told local heads of departments) would have new members and they would choose their own top officers to suit new, forward thinking, requirements.
By the time this esteemed Departmental spokesman had departed, all the top dogs in health on the Island (other than those already on the retirement list) were hastening to hone their interviewing techniques and assess the opposition on their ladder to Area Health Authority greatness. The smell of ambition was palpable.
My own boss went for an interview at Portsmouth E.C., where my old boss had just retired. I might have gone for it but, in the circumstances, judged I would stand no chance. In the event, my boss was offered the job and tactfully turned it down. It transpired that he was also in the lineup of hopefuls for the post of Area Administrator on the Island. He was interviewed for that and he got it.
I became Acting Clerk of the IOW E.C. for the last six months of its existence (which included all of Ted Heath's three day weeks).
The Portsmouth and Southampton E.C. offices were duly closed down. The boss at Southampton was four years away from retirement and of similar experience to my old Pompey boss. He joined the shortlist for the post of IOW FPC Administrator and, unsurprisingly, was appointed. I was shortlisted, but the interview was a formality; in that company I was not to be remotely in the running.
Much later I learned that Departmental specialists like Sir Richard, who had been sent to disseminate reorganization propaganda nationwide, had left firm advice that where Clerks departed from Executive Councils their Deputies should not replace them as Administrators of the new Family Practitioner Committees: such vacancies should be filled by outside applicants. So the 1974 reorganization changed my title from Deputy Clerk to Assistant Administrator. And that was that. (To be continued.)
HOME.
Surprises.
Maureen had a change of hair style. (We both tend to be rather conservative about such things.) I like it and everybody says it suits her.
That's my girl.
Moving house is a traumatic and at times surprising experience. Among the pleasant surprises afforded us has been an awakening to the many damned good books we had so far failed to read in our library. Meanwhile, the cat Shadow (below) has discovered the simple pleasure of cross-legged repose. I told him it wouldn't be allowed in a hospital and he muttered something. It sounded like 'Bollocks.'
READING.
Finished Maskerade by Terry Pratchett. Splendid. The Phantom of the Opera will never be the same again.
Have read A Fresh Wind in the Willows (1983) by Dixon Scott; one of the previously unread books in our home library and a creditable little follow up to Kenneth Graeme's masterpiece.
Am reading No Time for Goodbye (2007) by Linwood Barclay, another overlooked gem from the home library: more next time.
Moving house is a traumatic and at times surprising experience. Among the pleasant surprises afforded us has been an awakening to the many damned good books we had so far failed to read in our library. Meanwhile, the cat Shadow (below) has discovered the simple pleasure of cross-legged repose. I told him it wouldn't be allowed in a hospital and he muttered something. It sounded like 'Bollocks.'
READING.
Finished Maskerade by Terry Pratchett. Splendid. The Phantom of the Opera will never be the same again.
Have read A Fresh Wind in the Willows (1983) by Dixon Scott; one of the previously unread books in our home library and a creditable little follow up to Kenneth Graeme's masterpiece.
Am reading No Time for Goodbye (2007) by Linwood Barclay, another overlooked gem from the home library: more next time.
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