DBH
Tales
"Secrecy
is the enemy of Truth & Enlightenment"
Stepney Causeway, Dr. Barnardo's Homes HQ, known to us all as just
Stepney
Here's the Third & FINAL chapter
in Viv's DBH story (though, I'm
happy to say, her story continues!)
Viv Sadler's Story(continued)
I loved working at Faith Cottage, it was a beautiful place. I just
wanted to take the babies & love them, though you couldn't love
one more than the other. I felt settled here & since I
enjoyed the work so much I decided I would like to work with children
as a career. I asked if I could go to the Permanent side of the
Village Homes where you could do a full training course for nursery
work. They said that they would see. For this job you had to do a
whole month of nights & though it was hard work, I loved it.
We slept in a cottage where we weren't disturbed. One event
happened during this time period that I'll never forget. On
Coronation Day (June 1952) I went to a street party in London.
What a wonderful day! There were all sorts of activities &
souvenirs that one could buy. I still have the cup, saucer &
plate I bought that day. I remember my 16th birthday. It was
quite funny really as Dr. Barnardo's said my birthday was 9th
September 1937, but there was some confusion about the real
date, so I celebrated on the 10th, 11th, 12th & 13th. Not
until my foster mother sent away for my birth certificate did we
realise that I was actually born on 11 September. On my
16th birthday the staff & the matron of Faith Cottage gave me a
big box of chocolates & I remember eating some before I went to
sleep. When I woke, I found that 1 or 2 of the people who lived
permanently at the cottage had come to have a peek in my
bedroom. It was as if they wanted to say something but
they disappeared. I was summoned to see Mrs. Atkins & found
out that while people had gone to church & the Cottage was
empty, five pounds had gone missing from one of the resident's
purses. I was accused of something I did not do. I was a
Dr. Barnardo girl & had stolen before, so naturally I was suspect
number 1. It didn't matter what I said, nothing could convince
them that I hadn't taken it. I just gave up and refused to do
anything. Although I had a big argument with Mrs. Atkins over
this situation, the Colonel was quite kind as usual. As a
result of this incident I ended up at Mossford Lodge. This
house was mainly for office staff . This was like the TV
programme "Upstairs, Downstairs" & I was
downstairs. We washed up & cleaned the silver, etc.
While there I was quite happy until the lady who was in the
clothing store wanted to know if anyone had apologised to me.
It seems that the person who was the housekeeper where I had slept
while on nights had been given the sack because she had stolen some
blankets & other items. She may not have stolen the money
but I also know that I didn't. Nothing was ever said that
might indicate that they had blamed me wrongly. I continued to
work there & one day I thought I would go to see Miss Dyson who
had been at Stepney as head of fostering children out. I found
that she was someone that I could talk to. While there, I had an
accident when two of us were playing about , instead of working, as
we should have. I was chasing my friend when she went out of
the back door & as I followed my arm went through the glass
panel. I was sent off unaccompanied to the hospital . I nearly
passed out because it was quite a walk. At the hospital they
wanted to know who had brought me in & I had to say I
had come by myself. I believe there were some
consequences for that particular decision! I had to wait for
the doctor to come & when he arrived I was sent to the hospital
in Ilford. After I was stitched up I came back to Barkingside
& stayed in hospital there. The day after I came out, we
went up to London to see the Queen. She had just come back from
an Australian tour & I saw her at Buckingham Palace with the
Duke. When I came back to Barkingside I found I had been
moved up to the attics. Next I learned I was to be interviewed
for a job at Wyndham as a mother's helper. Once again I wasn't
asked, just told. I stayed overnight at the Newmarket Hostel
the first night. The job at Wyndham was with a family called
the Sutton's & I was there over a year. The baby I looked
after was 6 weeks old & the little girl was nearly 5. As
usual with Dr. Barnardo's, once a month the Welfare lady came
round. I always hated these visits and I began to think
how I might get out of DBH. It wasn't that I disliked my job, I
just wanted to be free from the constant interference. I decided to
join the W.R.A.F. (Women's Royal Air Force) My foster mother,
Mrs. Dove, came with me when I went for my interview. When I told Mr.
and Mrs. Sutton I was leaving, they didn't want me to go & even
offered to raise my money, but I was determined to change my life
& was accepted into the W.R.AF. . All of this was done
without Dr. Barnardo's staff 's knowledge. I suppose Mr. &
Mrs. Sutton would have told them but the only thought I had was,
"Thank goodness, now I am in someone else's
care". I had a uniform the same as everyone else, I
could talk about my home like everyone else & no one knew that
Mrs. Dove wasn't my real mother. It was lovely! It was
spoiled however, about 2 weeks before we had finished our "square
bashing". One day the officer came into the billet &
told me there was a person from Dr. Barnardo's to see me. I
could have curled up & died there & then! It
wasn't her fault as she was only doing her job but I told her exactly
what I thought of her & DBH. Dr. Barnardo's wrote to my
foster mother but she told them to leave me alone & that I was
trying to make my own life. I was then posted to the camp
where I stayed until I got married.
All this time I never knew who my parents were except for the
letter I had from my mother. If you asked anyone you got
answers like, "You were waiting outside an air raid
shelter." or "Your mother was killed." but none
of this was true & the different things they told me did not fit
into what I remembered. I got married still wondering who I
really was. I finally met my mother at the age of 26 &, out of
sheer curiosity, I also went to visit my relations in
Kent. I learned that my mother told Dr. Barnardo's a different
story to what she had told me. The only thing that rang true
was that my father was a cricket coach. My mother was
very secretive & I do not know anything about grandparents or
aunts or uncles. I keep in touch with my step-sister who is one
of four children from my mother's second marriage & from what I
gather, my mother got married in England & went to Canada. When
her husband died she came back from Canada & gave up the
children. Dr. Barnardo's denies any knowledge of this
family. I was about the 6th child I think. At this
point my mother used her married name of Peters. In fact,
if my birth father had any children with someone else, I could have a
lot of brothers & sisters who I will never meet. My mother
told me my father's name was Fred Smith but she told Dr. Barnardo's
it was Fred Barker. She also told me she had to pay Dr.
Barnardo's 3 shillings a week to keep me (15p today). I'm
grateful to Mr. Scott from DBH who came to see me in 1986 to tell me
my history. Not too much was shared however & it wasn't
until it was made law in this country to give us our records that I
learned more. During his visit, Mr. Scott showed me quite a few
photographs many of which I had seen before; he also showed me 1 that
was many years old. It turns out to be a photo of
myself. It is the only photo I have of myself
as a child & somehow it does not seem like me - I feel that it
could be a picture of anybody. Mr. Scott's
dedication restored my faith in Dr. Barnardo's. Later, in 1996,
I learned that I had two uncles sent to Canada. I am in the
process of trying to find them as well as researching the whereabouts
of my missing siblings from my mother's first marriage.
Although I had bad experiences while in foster care & often felt
bitter about some of the things that happened to me, not all of Dr.
Barnardo's children felt as I did. Some were lucky enough to be
fostered out in homes where love & understanding existed.
In addition, many devoted staff worked in the Barnardo Homes &
only the odd one should have sought alternative employment. I
myself always felt safe & secure in the homes & found that
all of us were treated the same. I think that the experiences
that I had growing up were most probably necessary to enable me to
cope with bringing up my own family. The things I learned as a
result of my early childhood, while painful, did serve in the end to
help me to have a better understanding of life. I made a
decision that when I married & had children, my children would be
brought up in a home with love & understanding; I'm grateful that
I was able to do this with reasonable success. My husband &
I had 5 children & they are all good children making their own
way in the world. They have never been in trouble & are
healthy, too. They'd do anything to help their Mum and Dad &
we would do anything to help them & that's how it should
be. I now have 13 grandchildren & I find this
experience very enjoyable, too. I think somehow or other God
gave me the strength to get through my childhood & made it up to
me later in life by giving me such a lovely family. For
this I must be grateful..
CONCLUSION
When you hear in the media now of children being ill-treated
& that social workers are not noticing or doing anything about
it, I am reminded that this is not something new. These kinds
of things have been going on for years & I can't help but wonder
why we don't seem to be learning. I was lucky, neighbours
reported the abuse that I encountered at the hands of my mother
& stepfather. People who report cases of mistreatment
should be taken seriously. No one wants to interfere with other
people's affairs & it's not pleasant to get involved, yet they do
it & should be supported. I think in this life
we hear & we listen but we don't learn.
Sometimes social workers go to college for a year but
they get no real experience at all. Only when they have been
out with experienced social workers & seen how the professionals
go about their work, should they be let out on their own..
Otherwise, they could put children at risk just because they have a
diploma or degree. A good social worker should have love &
understanding. It is like being a doctor or a nurse, it's a
vocation, not just a job. Social workers are required to see
& hear of terrible treatment of children & have the power to
prevent it & to improve the quality of a child's life & that
is a reward in itself. It needs to be acknowledged that there
are really good people out there & I think that working in a
children's home or doing anything involving under-privileged children
requires dedication. I myself like looking after elderly
people. There again I do not think that this country does
enough for the older generation of our citizens. I was in
auxiliary nursing for 6 years with a lot of elderly patients, some of
whom had never been in hospital before in their lives. When
they came in they were frightened & all you had to do to reassure
them was give them a little comfort. That did as much for them
as a doctor & his medicine.
I am sharing my story but it is to difficult to talk
about the physical & mental abuse I suffered in three different
foster homes long before I went to Mrs. Dove's. Through the Internet
I have found Carol who I sent my story to & she has written it
much better than I could. Also I would like to thank all who have
helped me find a cousin in Canada whose father & uncle were
B.H.C. sent to Canada. Also second cousins in Canada, relations in
America & second cousins in this country. I still haven't found
my half brothers or sisters but keep trying. I have written to the
Canada Registry office as we cannot find any trace of my mother's
first marriage in this country, we think she may not have gone to
Canada on holiday but was in fact a B.H.C. I have found out
that an aunt also went to Canada but nobody seemed to know where. I
realise many B.H.C. had a terrible time & I love to read mail
where it says: (e.g.) From the proud granddaughter/grandson of
a B.H.C. so you should be proud of them. When we were young we were
treated as nothing, now we can hold our heads high because we all
made it in the difficult world we lived in. We had to learn lessons
fast when we were young which has stood us in good stead now.
If being in England I can help others to find their roots, I will.
Thank you for reading this and keep on searching. God blesses you all.
Viv
website
