‘Smith the younger’

Thinking about Ian prompts a number of pictures; many of them the day to day detail that some of us were fortunate to share with him:

An ex-user volunteer that Gill Jones introduced me to one day when he came down to the CDT at the Town Hall from Tamworth Court. The quality of his acquaintances: including a rock climber who counted ticks, a convicted fraudster who built computers and houses and a Geordie Sikh who needed a bit of management training but could design better than anyone else: all of them became important parts of the picture.
A love of books and knowledge of the literature that gave us JB and that library and reminded me that I needed to read more!

A ‘family’ and social life that was kaleidoscopic in its ever-changing complexity.
Giving me the sometime comforting picture that the staff team was my own private psychiatric ward of patients covering the diagnostic spectrum.

Producing GM drugs, Monkey, Drugs on Friday, All along the fault lines (2), those more recent research reports, lots of talks and speechifying and Drugs Crime and Communities as vehicles for the primacy of the user.

The ‘watermark’ behind our behaviour during much of the 90s which was a picture of a cowboy riding across the lawless (North) West.

His obsession with the latest I.T./gadgets, which kept us ahead of the rest of the drugs field, as well as our Computer Department.

Evenings in the King’s Ransom with Ian and a passing array of folk including Tom, Jeremy Clitheroe, Charlie Douglas, Steve.

Staffing the CDT with him on their away day when all the punters got too much bus fare, lots of drugs and not one urine was collected.

The baiting of various opponents over the years, which, whilst ruthless, was also entertainment of the highest quality.

Ian and Steve, Ian and Tim, Ian and me and Steve and Tim, Ian and Tom, Ian and Martin, Ian and me and Martin …

Shrewsbury Street, Mrs. T., winning the alcohol tender and setting up the alcohol service, Pissie Chickens.

The advice at all levels which helped me and many others to understand where we were, where we needed to go and how we could get there.

A ‘phone call from Matt Southwell about the ‘nodding dog’. days in Basford House with Sharon and Tracey.

Days outside Basford House smoking annoying the neighbours, getting lunch from Victor at the Barbakan, the ‘smoothies’.

The tweed suit. The endless lost glasses. The lost ‘phones. My ever-disappearing lighters. The nervous cough during speeches. The bronchitic cough that let us know he was within 100 yards of the place.

Starting a talk with 36 overheads which were then presented in a random order with 12 left on the floor and forgotten about but still getting the message over.

The bags of washing, phone calls from Grace, picking Ian up from her house in the early morning, the apoplectic stories of Arriva trains and the Metro.
His coaching and mentoring of Mrs Chapman: an investment that has paid off so well for her and for me.

Keeping Tom entertained so much for so long; he would have drifted away long before if he had not had Ian for company.

Recent tales from the North East, Yorkshire and other uncivilised places; his new range of accents to mimic.

Echinacea; vitamin supplements;Q10…Billy; a diet which belied the word; lunches in the canteen at the Town Hall… baiting Harry Hall; maintaining the sceptic position on such runaway successes as ‘Enhancing Shared Care’ aka ‘Money for Old Rope’ or ‘Just tell them a story’.

The interview he had to undergo with Tony Harding. The selection of job titles over the years and at any one time: alcohol service coordinator; service development manager, DAT coordinator, medical statistician…

This detail is a rich vein of memories which will feed our thoughts over many years but it is the wider impact Ian had which will be his real legacy.

He has made a huge impact on the way our services and many others have tried to deliver better services to users; setting the user at the heart of it all has been a constant refrain. As a general/psychiatric nurse with a biology degree the odds on me understanding, let alone trying in some way to respond to, social exclusion were not good. But the constant dripping of information, advice and at times instruction was instrumental in my growth.

Yes, it was great he was there at that professional mentoring level but the personal side of it, which is not about images of events but feelings and beliefs, was powerful to be caught up in.

The grim reality of this Cowardly New World where if you cannot count it using verifiable, electronic, quality assured, integrated, whole systems approaches then it cannot exist, does not fit with the cowboy or the entrepreneur.

He had a unique blend of ideas and beliefs that gave him clarity of understanding and principle, which I for one can only look at, admire and try to follow in some clumsy way. But, more importantly, Ian was the most skilled communicator I have ever had the fortune to know. Watching him teach whether at MMU or in a corner of a bar was to see a master at work. He was comfortable with an audience of senior police officers and with a user from Middlesbrough; more importantly, they were all comfortable with him. We are all aware of people who have great ideas but fail to put them into practice or communicate them effectively. Ian did both with a passion and compassion that was tireless, fed by an energy produced by a belief in what he was doing.

Finally, I can only echo Mark Gilman’s thoughts: I know that I will respond to many situations with “what would Ian have thought about this?”.

Thanks for everything.