Life with the Samaritans

I had a really nice time in York. We stayed at the University there and I had lovely Student quarters; a nice spacious room with a very comfortable bed, a writing desk and chair, and a large roomy easy armchair, a huge wardrobe and chest of drawers with a wash basin next to it. Just outside were the bathroom, lavatory and a kitchen where you could make tea or coffee or do toast or whatever in a little oven/grill with a hotplate on top for warming or cooking, like a Baby Belling cooker. Needless to say, all I made was the odd cup of tea and coffee because the food was so gorgeous you really didn't need anything else. We had three cooked meals a day; it was a self-service type of counter so you could have as much or as little as you wanted. I made a pig of myself, of course, on the basis that I would be back to the old bowl of porridge and beans on toast when I got back home; everyone say, "Ah, poor soul".

I was in Derwent House and this was situated on a lake; we had to cross a walkway to get to the Dining Hall and there were lots of Ducks on the lake; lovely and peaceful. I would love to go again, but may not be able to for a few years as preference is given each year to those who have never been before, still it is worth the wait.

I was in the Samaritans Centre the other night because we had to have a 'de briefing' prior to writing out and handing in our reports on York. As I was on the early morning 3 a.m. to 7 a.m. duty I stayed there overnight and went to bed. This morning there was quite a panic because I couldn't find my knickers. I knew I'd had them on when I arrived but just could not find them anywhere.  As the night sleepers tonight are men I felt I must find them or it would be very embarrassing; knowing them though they would probably have pinned them on the Notice Board with a note saying something like "Can we join in the next orgy?"   However, all was well and I eventually found them tucked under the pillow (I had looked there before but must have lifted them up with the pillow and not noticed them). The Volunteer who had taken over from me was doubled up with laughter and said if the phone rang and she was unable to answer it would be my fault; luckily the phones were quiet so she was O.K.

At the moment there are only two of us here on the secretarial side (Mary & me) as the main secretary, Sandra, is away in Israel for a two week holiday.  Its made it difficult for me because by me going to York last week it meant Mary was all on her own for two days and as she is one of the world's worst worrying grumblers (I call her Doom & Gloom Mary) she was not at all happy about it and, to rub salt into the wound, on Friday she had her handbag taken from the office while she was on the telex machine. This really upset her, quite naturally, as she lost, not only her money, cheque book, credit card etc., but also her house keys and diary and address book and all the little personal things one tends to carry around. Also, it was extra maddening for her because she is the careful one who always keeps her bag hidden and never leaves the office unattended, whereas I am far more slap dash and leave my purse on my desk, bag on a chair and will float across the landing to the telex in the front office leaving our office empty. She feels it is most unjust of life to treat her like this and is in a foul mood today!

Last night I was invited by an ex neighbour to go down to the Watermans (a pub) to join the rest of her family and some relatives from Lancashire.  So of course I donned my coat and went! The old lady was there whose dog, Sheba, I had fostered for nine months before she was able to have it back; she was the 'Mum' of the party, the others being her daughter and granddaughter (who had called for me in the first place), and her stepson and stepdaughter-in-law (both in their early 60's). These two, John and Margaret, had travelled down from Lancashire yesterday on the coach, which took them nearly six hours to get to Victoria, so what with their initial journey to the Coach Station at their end, plus the extra journey from Victoria to get to Charlton this end, they were pretty well flaked out by the time they got here last night and just had a quiet evening and went to bed early. So tonight they were 'raring to go' and we all had a nice jolly time. When John got the first round of drinks he was heard to comment about my choice "typical bloody woman wanting something different!" but it was all in fun (I had asked for a St. Clements, which is my usual drink when I go into pubs; it is a bitter lemon with orange juice and ice, and is a really lovely refreshing drink) I sometimes pop into a pub when I am staying with Mum and she feels quite embarrassed about it so I don't always mention it, but on the times when I do go in I either have a St. Clements or, if it is the morning session I have a coffee. People haven't yet come to realise that you don't need to drink beers, wines or spirits, when you go to a pub, unless you want to of course. In fact I find them great meeting places and can have a chat and a laugh with 'real' people. Because they are relaxed they behave naturally and. you see them as they really are, whereas in the Churches, Chapels etc., everyone is on their best behaviour and in their Sunday best clothes and pretending (most of them) that they are so pious and you only see one side of them. This doesn't prevent me from going to such places of course, but I never take anyone at face value at such venues! Gosh, I am getting to be quite a cynic aren't I?

Tonight I have a date with an Irish Chartered Accountant. My Mum is quite worried about it. "I don't understand you at all. I thought you had finished with men" etc., etc., The fact that I have just agreed to go for a meal and to the pictures afterwards, which seems all quite innocent to me, convinces her I am going to be either whisked off to bed in some kind of erotic orgy, or abducted and never seen again. I told her she has sex on the brain and she categorically denied she had ever had sex on the brain, or anywhere else, so I commented I must be a virgin birth! It didn't really help matters when I jokingly said "I shall be quite safe because I am past the child bearing age" "Oh my God" she said, "You be careful" Anyway, that is tonight. Who knows, I may have another epistle to write on my experiences tomorrow!

Last week I was at York University for four days; a lovely change of scene. I had very comfortable Student accommodation and the house I was in was situated on a lake with ducks. There were about 12,000 of us Samaritans, from all over the country and some from abroad. It was good experience to meet with the others and hear of their branches and problems. The day started at 8 a.m. with breakfast, and then we all trooped over to the Central Hall for the first Plenary of the day, after which we all had coffee before going off to our various Seminars (at which we had to take notes to report back to our various Directors at our branches). After lunch we had another Plenary, followed by tea and biscuits and then on to our afternoon Seminar (again taking copious notes). There was about an hour free before dinner at 6.45 and at 8 p.m. the evening entertainment started. Although we were all quite exhausted by that time with all the days’ events, we all to a man/woman went to the evening dance, mainly I think to unwind. As these didn't end until midnight it was 12.30 before we got back to our rooms and hit the sack.

On Thursday night we had a Barn Dance, on Friday we had a very good Jazz Band to dance to and on Saturday we had a ceilidh (Scottish dancing), in which I took part ‘now and then’ as I found it extremely energetic and I was by then dead beat. It was all terrific fun and I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

There was the usual 'upset' on Friday afternoon when Chad Varah was giving a talk to his group on Incest. I was in another Seminar so missed all the fun! Someone who had been there said Chad recited case after case, going into all the details, which wasn't really necessary. After three quarters of an hour everyone was saturated with obscenities and when this was put to him he, apparently, said that women 'enticed' men and that it was a well-known fact that women fantasize a lot" which really offended some of the women (and men) there and half a dozen women got up and walked out, not only that but they packed their bags and left! It was later played down by the Committee of course, and they put on an extra discussion group about it.  The 'official' version being that the women who had left were feminists just out for a bit of publicity. It seems quite a pity that Chad should go out on such a note though. (He is retiring in November and going back to being, as he put it "just the Rector of St. Stephens, Walbrook' where he is going to start 'Monday School Classes' which are going to be 'Sunday School Classes for Adults on a Monday Night').

Some of the Speakers were very good at the Plenary. Monica Dickens was one I remember very clearly; she has been living in America and has been doing Samaritan work there but has now moved back to this country. Another Speaker I recall was a Mother Francis, she runs a Hospice for children from the age of birth to 16, although she says their oldest one at the moment is 21 years, on the principal that as they made the rules they can break them if it seems necessary. Her theme was the effect of death on the survivors, their grief etc.  Apparently, at Helen House the whole family can stay, and often do, staying on after the death for a while until the funeral. One of the cases she cited was of a 2 year old boy who had died this year and after he had died his mother took him out into the grounds and sat on a bench cuddling and talking to him for 2 hours, after which she returned to her room and lay in bed with him in her arms for another couple of hours while she slept, after which she was ready to lay him in the cold room (a normal bedroom which is kept at a certain temperature so the child can lay in a normal state until ' the funeral). She said that by being allowed time and space for her grief and being able to pop into the cold room whenever she wanted, it helped the healing process. A very good talk, with slides, I shall remember for a long while.

On Saturday afternoon we all escaped and went into York on a bus. The bus started its journey just outside the grounds and by the second bus stop was so full people were standing two abreast down the aisle, and the NOISE was terrific with everyone chatting at once. The poor driver didn't know what had hit him and someone shouted "We are supposed to be 'Listeners, not Chatterers".

Once we arrived at York we made for the Viking Centre and had to queue for about half an hour before we could get in, but it was well worth it; a great experience.   Apparently, when they were digging to build the new Shopping Precinct a Viking Village was discovered and they have rebuilt it as they think it was originally. It is all underground of course and you travel in, what they call a 'Time Cart, backwards, from the Twentieth Century until you get to the Viking Village, but what intrigued me was the way they got the smells. As you pass each part you get the noise of what they are doing (talking, banging, whatever) and also the smell. If, for example, you passed the pigs in their little pen you got the whiff of pigs, and when you went through the hut with the family in it you got the distinct smell of smoke from the fire and the cooking smell, and by the boats you got the fishy smell. It was all very cleverly done. The exit, after you leave the 'Time Cars' is craftily through a Souvenir Shop to tempt you to spend your money. I bought a pen and a mug and also struck two Viking Coins for Adrian and Jonathon. They found two coin dies when excavating the site and have made replicas to enable the public, for a small fee of course, to strike their own Viking Coins; you are given a mallet and told to bang hard in the centre, great fun.

After our visit to the Viking Centre we went to the Minster, first time I had been and it was quite impressive. We then went into a local café for a cup of tea and to wait for the bus back in time for our dinner. It was an exciting afternoon but rather tiring with all the walking and standing around, yet we still managed to drag ourselves to the ceilidh that night!

Grace Russ - September 1986