Hostname: page-component-7479d7b7d-8zxtt Total loading time: 0 Render date: 2024-07-14T15:00:16.922Z Has data issue: false hasContentIssue false

Remembering Russell Barton

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  02 January 2018

David Jolley*
Affiliation:
Penn Hospital, Penn Road, Wolverhampton WV4 5HN
Rights & Permissions [Opens in a new window]

Abstract

Type
Columns
Creative Commons
Creative Common License - CCCreative Common License - BY
This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution (CC-BY) license (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.
Copyright
Copyright © Royal College of Psychiatrists, 2003

Re: Russell Barton - Obituary by Henry Rollin, Psychiatric Bulletin January 2003, 27, 35.

Russell Barton came briefly into my life, but with massive impact, in the mid-1960s. He was one of several prominent and inspiring speakers that Dr Stafford Clark introduced for the attention of medical students at Guy's Hospital. Russell's message and his style was so intriguingly different from the contrived out-patient and limited in-patient experience available at Guy's at the time that I was drawn to follow him to Severalls for a clinical attachment. I was able to spend time at Severalls during the period when it was still in the process of transformation from a locked environment with railings, separating males and females.

There was a pioneering heroic spirit with major conflicts between the two greatest men - Russell Barton and Richard Fox - but conducted, as far as I could see it, with good humour and mutual respect. They were having a huge impact on thinking and discussion among ordinary people across the populations of Essex and neighbouring counties, and the demystification and destigmatisation of serious mental illness made huge steps over a short time thanks to their enterprise.

It was wonderful to meet both patients and staff who had experienced the life of the old asylum system, and most particularly enjoyable to go out with Russell through the lanes and bigger roads of the county, to outposts and clinics in neighbouring towns. He was a great enthusiast for his MG and acknowledged every other MG that we passed. It felt like being part of a celebrity world - caring, unstuffy and determined to provide good quality, honest services to many disadvantaged individuals and families.

Russell had encouraged Tony Whitehead to establish one of the first truly community-based services for older people with mental health problems, particularly dementia. Tony, who sadly also died very recently, had moved on to Manchester by the time I joined Russell, but his legacy of day hospitals and outreach activities was there. The stories of rescuing older people who were not quite coping because of their dementia in isolated small-holdings in Cambridgeshire and other far off places, were quite wonderful. A converted old ambulance was used to take out not only staff, but also basic equipment such as coal for the fire, loaves of bread, eggs, milk and other simple foods.

Russell Barton was a hero. A huge amount of good has followed from his initiatives; very little of it knowing the source of its inspiration.

Submit a response

eLetters

No eLetters have been published for this article.