STEWART'S
40 CHALLENGES BEFORE 40
Ipswich Gangshow
We head back to the spring of 1996. They say that every night somewhere in the world there is a Gang Show taking place. I know a lot of non-scouting and guiding friends will be reading this, so I will explain.
Way back in the 1930’s a young entertainer called Ralph Reader, thought that it would be a good way to fundraise with his fellow scouts that they put on a review show. It was such a success that it progressed into a full blown show on the big theatre stages with the young actors name missing from the credits, As the fear of being found out that he had started this show could lose him future work. Believe it or not most of the stars of the TV and film of today and yesteryear had brushes with a Gang Show in their lifetime.
In 1938 a group of leaders decided that they would like to produce a show called March-(h)ares, this was followed in 1939 by more March (H)ares. Programmes of these shows can be seen at the Suffolk reference library. The Ipswich show stopped during the war years, but was reformed with Mr Goody and Reeve Hansford and Jack Trodd at the helm; they created some fantastic sketches and scripts some of which are still preformed on stage in the Ipswich show with a modern twist of course.
Each year the letter came from one of those chaps called Roy Goody, do you want to be in the Gang Show?, were looking for new faces! Each year a few children would enrol and we would attend the Ipswich Corn Exchange to watch them preform as a group. I was a young leader at the time and Peter Hilling and I was sat in the balcony discussing the merits of the singing and dancing when I jokely said “I could do that”. Well you’ve guessed it. Next September I’m stood in the 11th Ipswich Scout Groups HQ, having my photo taken and auditioning for the cast of the 1997 show.
Having had a brush with fame and the stage, I knew that I could do it, but was I what they were looking for?? Did I have the Xfactor? We entered a small room with me being the only leader amongst scouts; We were advised that this section was about mime and interpretation. Thinking the worst, and thinking silly French guy doing plate glass impressions. I was brought back to the room with the words “can you mime that you’re washing up!” Well the children quick to impress rushed to do the dishes, never that quick on camp I thought to myself. But slowly as one of the children put his clean dishes on the pretend sideboard, I was taking them off there and placing them in a rack. When he stopped, I closed the door and turned a knob and sat back to read the paper. Looking puzzled at me the coach for that session Mr John Rockett asked where was my washing up. I pointed at my cupboard smugly and said” there in the dishwasher!!”
After that I tried to follow suit without too much larking about. But it was soon time to find out if I’d been chosen. Like the Xfactor we were rounded up into groups and then told if we were in our not. Expecting the big fat NO, I got a Yes and a rehearsal schedule thrust into my hands, as I left bemused. What had I done?
My first show was in April 1997, one of my first characters was to be a flower seller on Covent Garden. This didn’t bother me, as I soon learnt that I would become accustomed to cross-dressing in public. Not like that! But for the next ten years, I was a mother in law, washer women, and a cheer leader. In fact I believe that the production team did there upmost to ensure that there was a drag item for every adult male at one time or another.
Being an adult in 1997, things were different to what they are today. The adults would meet in the Sawn at 5pm for a preshow drink till 18:50 with curtain up at 19:15 this never left much time to apply stage make up. But you soon become a dab hand at dressing and applying enough makeup to cover the rosy cheeks from the alcohol. But my first year I decided that I would take a small ale keg back stage as it was allowed. Now for those who have been into the bowels of the Corn Exchange will know behind the main hall stage there is a labyrinth of stairwells and passageways. These we converted to dressing rooms, the boys/men were in the bottom corridor and rooms, the girls on the next floor and the stage was one above that.
I don’t think it really made a difference how much beer you drank before the show, running up and down three flights of stairs and changing in less than three minutes to your next costume and being back at the side of the stage ready to go on again. You needed the beer to keep your fluids up otherwise you would collapse of dehydration. Something that often happened to the youngster’s as they didn’t drink any normal fluids.
It was this first year that I learned another painful lesson. As the new adult I was invited to the girls changing room at the natural break between the Saturday matinee and the final performance. In those days you could play a joke on someone and get away with it. These are now banned because it could be seen as bullying. But I carefully entered with some fellow scouters and there was a young make up lady with a jar of something on the table. I was seated and given a pint to drink. Nice I thought. Kathy made a little speech and then it happened, I had two dollops of hot wax applied to my very hairy chest. Not wanting to look uncool I just sat and drunk my beer as you do, while the young lady ripped a huge strip of chest hair from my chest. Ohhhh, arrrghhh I could hear, but I just looked down and said oh, then leant over and started to drink the girls wine. While the second strip was removed, making a white cross on my chest.
Unbeknown to me, as I was drinking the beer and wine the cast members were leaving the room, my chest started to bleed. After some patching up and a rather sobering lotion was applied which made me wince a lot, it was three bells and we were back on stage for the final performance. I’ve got to say I did feel that the second half of the show as the alcohol wore off and the itchy material chaffed against my bald chest in “I am a pirate King!”
Last year saw my last year on stage at present, due to my other charity commitments. Being a cast member of a show is hard work, every Saturday and some Sundays from October through to Easter then five public shows and three rehearsal shows in a week. Takes it is toll on your social life and other commitments. But I wish the cast of 2014 all the best and I will be in My Office as normal all week prior to the show!! (The Shows Public Bar for those who don’t know).
Camille’s Appeal
I had made the decision to leave the 24th Ipswich Scouts, and I was looking around for something to fill my now spare time. When I received an email out of the blue to support a young girl, whose mother worked at the port. I knew she worked somewhere in procurement at the Port of Felixstowe, but I had no idea what she did. The email went something along these lines-
Dear All
I would like to ask your support to help us raise some funds to support our friends daughter. She has been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and we would like to raise funds to support her treatment.
If you have any fundraising idea, please attend the meeting in the Ground Floor Boardroom of Tomline House.
Yours gratefully
There are some Emails that you read and think, delete, and there are others that you think. I could make a difference! The day soon arrived and I slowly wondered over to the boardroom.
Upon entering, you know that you’re in trouble, when you’re the only guy out of approx. twenty females in the room. Now I’ve learnt a few lessons in scouting. Don’t rush into things and stick your hand up for a job, so patiently waiting I chose my time to introduce myself to the table and outline my experience of fundraising and event experience.
I soon received an invite to join a small team of eight people, who I didn’t know to form the fundraising committee for the Camille’s Appeal. Over time I have developed relationships with this guys and girls and consider them friends and hopefully they will feel the same way about me.
But it’s hard not to get involved with the appeal, Camille’s Appeal was about a young 2yr old girl, who had developed a brain tumour and needed help. Being 36yrs old I’d had a few more years helping others and living my life, this young lady had the rest of her life in front of her. But I know how passionate Martin and Hayley were about ensuring their daughter had the best treatment and aftercare.
Event after event soon whizzed by until one of my most daring of activities a family fun day and Bungee Jump at Suffolk Food Hall, after months of planning the day was a little breezy and rain threatened towards the end of the day. But with 57 people enlisted to throw themselves off a crane in aid of the appeal, it was a no turning back now.
First up was Martin Shave, Camille’s dad. Following a safety briefing, he was perched on the side of the cage ready to jump. Now I’m not squeamish but these things always worry me when organising them. The first to go is the one is where my nerves jangle. But watching martin leap like a flying squirrel and land safely, my attention switched back to the fun day and the activities we had arranged to keep as many people entertained.
Soon my turn was approaching, now as event organisers we are not there to get involved in activities, as we are there event manage, but I wanted to go last in an outfit that I had not used for some time.
I visited the UK bungee team table and signed my jump declaration. I slipped off to the car park and stripped off and donned my outfit.
Walking back to the crane I nipped into one of the portable toilets and gave it a good shake as if I was stuck or getting changed. Hoping that it would draw attention, and then I burst out, cape flowing in the wind in my superman outfit. I have attached photos of it in the photo section, as I know it will bring a little smile to some and gasps of horror to others.
But having two bungee ropes joined together was a first for the day being the heaviest, but nowhere near the most nervous. I could not wait to jump unlike James gibbons. I think he would rather run a marathon than jump off the crane, but as Camille’s uncle he leaped well. But as soon as I got to the top I looked down at the small crash mat and thought that it’s rather high, but we could watch the traffic on top of the Orwell Bridge. James from UK bungee was chatting away and I was looking around the place as being a crane driver heights were not an issue. But he was trying to get me to pay attention as it was time to stand up and jump. The gate opened and I shuffled forward, One, Two apparently he say’s Three, but I’d already gone! Plummeting towards the earth, my 21 stone frame about to be arrested and flung back into the sky. Soon I was hanging upside down and awaiting the final flight to the crash mat to unbuckle. But I could have gone again and again. Love heights and extreme challenges.
The event raised about 10K for the appeal and we were off to a flying start for the first year. Over the next few years there a number of normal fundraisers coffee morning s across the country with martin and Hayley’s friends joining in the fundraising to 24hr endurance go-karting, and the now infamous Christmas Ball.
Everyone loves to dress up and have a great night out. But the Camille’s Appeal Christmas Ball is much more than that. The first ball at ITFC was a huge success; with maybe one the UK best auctioneers Mike Sarson from TW Gaze in Diss, Norfolk. His expert auction sales of every item even a signed Leicester Tigers rugby ball for £1,500. In 2012 the ball reached a landmark amount raised. With prestige auction items and Mike working the room like his mortgage was riding on it. We raised a staggering £18K. But this would not be possible without guests to the ball, and the fabulous auction items the team mange to obtain each year. A huge thank you to everyone who has donated an auction item for the Appeal Christmas Ball, we could not do it without your support.
Fundraising is not the only thing the Camille’s Appeal does; The Appeal is also one of three local charities in the East of England who are funding the pioneering rehabilitation unit for children with brain tumours in the UK, based at Addenbrookes Hospital in Cambridgeshire. This unit has been funded for the next three years and we are hoping that it will be the template to roll across the UK to the other specialist Oncology units within the NHS.
But we have also supported those children who have been selected to undergo Proton Treatment; this is unfortunately not available in the UK. So we provide grant funding to those parents to assist with Accommodation and Car Hire while in a foreign country.
But that’s why I love the charity and commit so much time to its aims and fundraising. Yet again I’m waking up and thinking Camille’s Appeal. So much so that if you cut me open I’d have the logo through me like a stick of rock. I love to talk about the charity to anyone I meet and asks about it, where we have recently spent the bank holiday supporting the Ipswich beer festival. I’m a beer lover, but I’ve never been to a festival and drunk so little. But it did raise the profile of the cause as we spoke to hundreds of people and raised £3.9K for the appeal.
Where do we go from here? Well, we continue to profile raise and talk about what the aims are. Hopefully you will be touched by the information in this chapter and want to visit the Camille’s Appeal website. www.camillesapppeal.co.uk
Any donations to my 40 in 40 challenge which this book forms one of the challenges, will go directly to the Camille’s Appeal. But my thanks go to whoever sent that email and for the Shave Family to allow me into their world to support them and to be able to help all the other children who are suffering from brain tumours.
OLYMPIC FEVER
The summer of 2012, is one where a lot of people will never forget, we had great weather, and The Olympics were coming.
I often looked at the ticket website to try and treat Karen to some Olympic sports, as I know she loves swimming and gymnastics. Day after day I searched for tickets but was unable to get any.
Then out of the blue at work I received an Email from the Olympic organising committee.
Dear Mr Bethell
Congratulations you have been nominated to carry the Olympic Flame.
These words still bring a shiver to my spine and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. But being a wise old lad, I though look out it must be spam. Why would I get a nomination to carry the Olympic Torch and why would I want to part with £200 of my money to order it, plus the other memorabilia totalling nearly £500 it had to be a scam.
Reading through it there was a link to the nomination letter. As soon as I opened it and read the first line I knew it was from Martin and Hayley. They touched on many of the subjects already written in this book and my passion for helping their cause.
Here is the nomination letter,
"When my daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumour we formed a charity. Although we didn`t know Stewart at the time, he had heard about the charity and offered himself to help with fundraising. Over a period of two years Stewart has dedicated his life to helping us and raising money for children with brain tumours. Most weekends he is standing in differing weather conditions trying to educate people of the charity and its objectives.
Our daughter`s treatment has taken us all over the UK and to the US and without Stewart we would not have been able to carry on with the charity and the personal support he has given us has been without doubt the most important support we have received from any individual. Our gratitude to Stewart is impossible to put into words.
It`s important to note that it is not only my family and the charity we formed that he supports. As a scout leader, he has offered a huge amount of time and effort to the scout movement and I`m sure that they would have the same opinion of Stewart that we do. Stewart is a man that doesn`t do anything for himself when it is possible to help somebody else. It would be wonderful, if for once, somebody could give something back to thank Stewart for the kindness and dedication he offers to everyone.
Those of us who have been in need and who he has helped would gladly hold this man on a pedestal and wish that for one day he could be the centre of attention."
Well I just sat at my work desk and blubbed like a baby. I am a large guy, but I’m as soft as the fairy soft baby advert. I cry at most things on tv and the eyes are welling up now as I write this (Happy Tears).
Why me? What have I done? Thinking back to my breakdown only a year or so before. Feeling that I’d let down the scouts and their parents, why should I get this honour? This rattled around and around my head until I got home and told Karen. As always she thought I was joking and that it was a hoax. But after showing her the email and letter and my name on the Olympic torch relay website. I settled down to order my running suit and wonder where I would be running with the torch.
I still wonder why me, but I was quick to thank Martin and Hayley for their kind nomination, there response was it was a little gesture for a guy who is so dedicated to supporting the appeal.
The day the Olympic flame arrived in the UK, we sat watching the One Show on the BBC. As it arrived on the Olympic colours plane I was blubbing again. Karen by this time was looking for the life vest as the room would be flooded with my tears. But soon I was to realise that I would be one of those runners.
The next day as the flame left Lands’ end, it was funny but it there was also a flood warning in Chantry as I sat watching the pride swell in the chests of the torch bearers as the flame was lit and they ran with it. Watching the relay it would be nearly 68/69 days before I would be one of them. Sixty-nine days are a long time to wait, Two months and a bit to be a bit more exact. But the torch wound its way around the UK. The police outriders loved racing ahead and clearing the route for the relay team, as it made its way to the next town. I believe that it was on day two relay, that an important lesson was shown on TV. Don’t get in the way of the security forces, which some poor un-expecting person who wanted another photo of the torch, found out.
As the torch went past this gent, he decided to run in front of the police guard, and soon found himself flying towards a bush. The Olympic torch had the same protection as the queen as it was a symbolic flame. The police trained for nearly a year before the torch arrived and ran about 15 miles a day.
My excitement was soon turned to anger, as no sooner had the Olympic torch relay pass through the towns on day one, two and three. The Olympic torches where being touted on the internet for hundreds of thousands of pounds. I’m a smart guy and if Martin or Hayley asked me to sell my Olympic Torch in aid of the Camille’s Appeal, in a heartbeat I would and 100% would go to the charity.
But this anger me, and I was soon in the press quoted as saying it’s a flaming disgrace! That people were selling them for personal gain and only 5% or less was going to the chosen charity. Newspaper interviews and radio interviews even before my Moment to Shine, But it had to be said. If 100% of the sale went to charity no issue, but to profit from it personally this was unacceptable.
The torch bearer’s uniform arrived and I was quick to try it on with my new pair of white trainers in the back garden with a few photos. This led to a rush of overwhelming pride as I knew that this was it, I was going to be part of the UK’s history in the 2012 London Olympics. 7,000 torch bearers from celebrities and local hero’s and me.
I tried to keep calm prior to my day Saturday 7th July. So when the Olympic Torch raced through Ipswich, I did my best not to go and see it or get caught up in the hubbub. But Karen wanted to go to the park and see it light the caldron in Christchurch Park. Arriving early we joined a long queue in the sweltering heat next to the largest amount of catering vans I’ve seen for some time. But when we were allowed into the arena, we quickly gained a good spot under the big oak tree. We could see the stage and I wondered off to the freebies of twizzle sticks, Aluminium coke bottles, and a coke tambourine.
Seeing the hundreds of people arrive hoping to see a glimpse of the flame gave me a few nightmares over the next few nights, what happens if I drop it or it goes out? What starting pose would I do? These questions where never in my head until I was speaking with an Ipswich bearer. But he said enjoy it and don’t worry the torch team will look after you.
The flame ran along the main avenue of trees and around the side of the stage, the hairs on my head and shoulders stood up. That would be me! In two days’ time, tears formed as I watch the caldron light and the crowd went wild..
The big day:
Saturday 7th July 2012, will be a day I won’t forget in a long time. Being prepared, we had booked a bus to get the family to Bury St Edmunds. My allocated running place was going to be Northgate Street at 16:00. I had to be at the Sport centre at 13:00hrs for briefing and to board the torch bus.
Arriving at Crown Street Layby, friends, family all arrived, dishing out the pink Camille’s Appeal t shirts, so that any media coverage would show the pink t shirts and promote the charity. Eventually the bus arrived. I went to speak with the bus driver and I just broke out laughing. Oh NO not you I exclaimed to the driver.
Turning to Peter Hilling, I said it’s Gwen Hack a friend of both of our from scouting days gone by, where Gwen drove a bus to the Isle of Wight full of scouts to a Haven Holiday camp, such fond memories of that week. Soon even Gwen was decked out in an appeal t shirt. Karen was on board decorating the bus with signs exclaiming to all that drove past us to Bury, that we were carrying an Olympic torch bearer. The bus was soon speeding along and I gave a briefing to all on the bus about security for the flame and not to get too close once it’s alit. Then a quick change into my freshly washed Olympic uniform, with the world’s smallest pocket to hide a UK passport to prove I am who I am.
I entered the Bury Sport Centre where I was shown to an upstairs room, where I was one of the first in the room. Where 18 other people eventually filled the room and we got to hold an official Olympic torch including the gas. Rather a novel experience as none of us had any idea what was going on, as the torch relay team gave the briefing. We were introduced and given our running numbers, mine was ninety. A young lad called Tom was 89 and an older lady was 91. Now I know that it’s a small world out there, but Tom is a scout leader from Haverhill and the old lady was a Guide Leader from Bedford. So our greeting when the torch turned up was simple, the scout/guide left hand shakes. Scouts have shaken left hands as long as Baden Powell formed scouting. It was a sign of trust, as in Africa tribal chiefs would put down their shield but retain their weapon and would shake with the clear left hand.
Soon I was time to board the bus to the start the relay; all 18 torch bearers suddenly gained the urge to visit the bathroom. As we formed a snake down the stairs, David Sheepshanks passed me on the stairs and said hello Stewart, it was great to be recognised from a great evening I had spent as a guest of the Mayor of Ipswich with him as guest after dinner speaker.
As the bus left the sports centre, it was so hot in there that everyone was very quiet, slowly we made our way around the back of the Apex. The streets where empty? Where was everyone? The bus turned right then left onto out Westgate Street.
Ah, here they are five or six people deep. The Olympic bus drivers must have been superhuman as they gently forced their way through the crowds without running anyone over. But I guess the water pistol out the window helps! Soon we were sat waiting for the main torch convoy to arrive.
The torch team had the door open for fresh air, but asked us to reveal why we were chosen in order, just in case the convoy turned up from Haverhill. The first Bury torch bearer was a 12yr old boy. He was nominated by his teacher for being such a turnaround pupil after being a right tearaway and turning his life around. He was so embarrassed that he burst into tears. I sat at the back looking out the window trying my best not to start crying.
But the sight of police outriders was the sign that the sponsor convoy was near and that we would be off shortly.
As the bus made its way forward at relevant points marked with a large yellow circle with your number on it, the control cares released a torch bearer. Soon enough we reached the Green King brewery where a scheduled rest stop was arranged.
Now being thirsty and the idea of being in the back of the brewery, I knew they had a brewery tap, but we were not allowed to slip off for a pint, but we got some Coke from the sponsor’s truck, then we jumped aboard for a team photos for those who were yet to run with the torch.
Mount up everyone was the call from the torch team, and the nerves kicked in again, one by one they left the bus, then it was Toms turn on Angel Hill. It was packed not six/seven deep; it was fully packed no standing room. I’d never seen anything like it or would again in my lifetime. But I knew I was next, we turned into Northgate street and I knew exactly where my group where, as the blob of pink t shirts grew bigger. My name was shouted and I walked to the front of the bus, and handed my torch. The time had come.
We stopped and I could see all my friends and family, the doors opened, and I was thrust into the limelight, the door shut and they disappeared into the distance, as I was mobbed. People I never knew congratulating me, people throwing babies at me for photos. Then of course friends arrived for their photos, one highlight was holding Karen and giving her a kiss. If only she knew how much I wanted to ask here there and then to marry me. But I chickened out.
There was one special young lady I knew was there and she arrived carried in Nanny Patsy arms. Camille, I had my photo taken with Camille. It’s a moment I know I will remember and cherish for years to come. The Police arrived to usher me into the middle of the road, to await the arrival of TOM. Over the hill I saw the flame arrive. Shaking tom by the left hand we congratulated each other and then the torch kiss. The moment had come. Soon my gas was burning and the short police officer told me I was now the torchbearer.
I had several conversations with work colleagues and online with many parents of children who had lost their children to brain tumours, talking about the Olympic Torch Relay and how I could honour their child. It was the night before that I thought about taking a Knee. So once I was alight I bent down risking a split in my tight white’s and a dirty knee to pause during such a great event.
Kneeling down in Northgate Street, I closed my eyes and the whole world disappeared and I said a little prayer for all those children who would never see this event and to give strength to the parents to carry on. Then a hand touched my shoulder, “are you Ok” looking up I saw the police officer. “Yeah was my reply”
As I stood up the crowd where almost silent, so I roared my approval for a cheer!!! COME ON I screamed… the noise was almost deafening. As friends family and the unknown all joined in my moment to shine. Then I was off, a nice gentle jog down Northgate Street, waving with one hand, flame in the other, cheering on the crowd as I went.
I know that I saw several people I knew, but there was some I didn’t who will have me as their reminder of that Leg of the Olympic Torch relay in Bury St Edmunds. But towards the end of my run I saw something that made my heart sink. There is a residential home on the roundabout, and as I approached it I noticed there were a number of residents outside, but in one of the fire escapes sat in a wheelchair an old lady who smiled and waved back to me. Such a shame she could not get out of the building to see more.
Arriving at the end of my run, I saw more family and nicely handed the flame over to the guide leader before taking on plenty of water and joining the rest of the torch bearers to discuss the event and my personal experiences.
Yet again, my personal thanks go to Martin and Hayley for their nomination and for everyone who has supported me through the thick and thin. As for selling my Olympic torch, it’s not for sale, but if your youth group is within a short drive of Ipswich and they want to see it, please contact Stewart@camillesappeal.co.uk and I will come along and relive this experience with them.
Over the months following my torch run, my torch went on a tour of schools youth groups, and the east of England, and even that residential home, where that old lady had lost her husband and could not walk, so was stuck in side. However my Olympic torch has risen over £5.5K for the appeal and I still own it!!!!
If you’d like to see the torch run, The Youtube clip can be found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gpP2bFJZHI8
Tissues will be required, honestly, as there are a few added slides at the end of the run…
Oh and I did manage to get some tickets to swimming at the Olympic park, where I wore my torch bearers top with pride in the hottest swimming pool, I’ve ever been in, but Team GB and the pride in the UK, was amazing as was the journey home in First Class on the train…
Hello Police
Now I know that all law abiding citizen like to see justice and that where someone is in need they will do what they can to assist. Well I’m not different, well in fact I think I’m more different than most. You see I have an inbuilt HELP detector.
I’m sure it’s a Bethell trait. Looking back through the generations of bethells, we’ve been in Suffolk Fire Service and the Army Fire Service and Army of numerous ranks. I chose a path to become a paramedic, but had to change this due to falling behind in my studies at school and getting a job which I felt would be better in the long run.
You see, bethells seem to find people who need help. My Phone is on 24hrs a day and if someone asks for assistance for a car to be towed or have I got drain rods, in a flash I’ll be there to assist.
Even my brother is like me in some ways, he’s part of the 4x4 response group who support Doctors on call in the winter months and was a St Johns ambulance member for years. Recently using these first aid skills to assist a gentleman, who was pushed off a bus in Ipswich?
But why it is I seem to almost have the police on speed dial,
With the introduction of hand free kits, I can now see an issue and contact the police straight away, motoring issues on the A14, be it debris-accidents, fires. I don’t know why, but I feel the need to report it. I was always taught in scouting the emergency services would rather receive five calls about one incident than none at all.
Last winter 2012, I’d driven to work in my new Electric Car, watching some of the loons on our highways I was surprised that I was not involved in an accident. As there was overnight snow and ice on the roads and it didn’t look like it was going to clear.
So travelling back from Felixstowe to Ipswich, I spotted a Lorry parked on the inside lane and three cars in a Road Traffic Collision (RTC). Being a good boy scout, I had first aid kit, blankets and spare clothes in my car, as I knew it was going to be cold. Stopping and checking that everyone was ok. I asked had anyone called the police. NO was the response. So there I was again calling 999. Once through I was giving details of the accident to the operator and that I was a passer-by who stopped to give assistance, the HGV driver started to clear the debris from the road while I was talking on the phone and making sure that he was safe. When there was an almighty crunch and a cloud of white Snowy powder on the opposite carriage way flying through the air.
Now in scouting we would spend a lot of time teaching children to talk to a pretend operator just in case they needed to report an accident or fire/rescue. But this all went out of my mind while explaining to the operator that the West bound carriageway was blocked and that four vehicles were involved, I had to cut off that event, as I scream down the phone, please send an ambulance to the east bound carriageway as a car has flipped over onto it roof and is now in a field.
Forgetting that first rules of first response your Safety first!. I dashed across four icy lanes of the A14 and hung up my mobile phone. Arriving at a Vectra on its roof engine running about the same time as two other gents who had stopped on the east bound, we quickly assessed the situation, we could not gain access to the driver’s side, so opening the passenger’s door and rear door two of us went inside to see if anyone was alive or needed assistance. Luckily, The lady inside was conscious and able to tell us she was ok and not injured. This helps as my fear of a car on fire was reduced as she was able to switch off the vehicle. Slowly to avoid cold shock, she removed her seatbelt and made her way out of the vehicle. When the police officer arrived, he proceeded to take details and advised that the driver needed to be check out in hospital in Felixstowe. He advised that No ambulance was being sent as they could not contact the person calling in the accident. Advising him that it was me, I was reminded of my scout days, never to hang up until told to by the operator.
Finishing on the eastbound with the lady dispatched to hospital and my details being taken by the police, I returned safely to the westbound carriage way only to find one of the ladies shivering standing beside her car in the wet field. Hypothermia! I thought as I strode into a muddy field with my office shoes on. Have you got coat and hat boots? Oh yes she said there in the boot, but my feet will get muddy. Forgetting my own feet, I strode into the field and recovered her shoes and coat, and deposited her in the police car which was still running with the heater on.
Returning to my car I was approached by another traffic officer, where I explained that I had just left the lady from the car in the field in his car with potential hypothermia. What I did not expect was the instant, who are you? what are you doing here?, where was my car? And was it involved in the accident? HGV drivers get bad press, but this guy stepped in and defend my actions I could have swung for the Police Officer, who thought that my vehicle was part of the accident.
Why oh why am I wired to seek out those in distress??
I still kick myself that I hung up on a 999 call while connected to the operator while crossing the A14, but seeing such a dramatic accident while giving details on the telephone, I’m sure others would do the same to cross four lanes of Icy traffic flowing A14.
It took me days to get over the telephone error. But I sought comfort from those angels in the Ports OHC again. Who said that I’d done the right thing but should always have my phone on loud? As I missed a call from the police as I had hung up on them, because I had it on silent from the office.
Coming home I saw another two accidents with one car facing the wrong way just 800meters from the major accident. I checked on them and they managed to get their car facing the right way by driving it around while I stopped traffic again.
As I sat at home contemplating my journey home I had a quick rant on Facebook. Several friends commented on it. But my thoughts were with the lady who car had flipped. Was she ok? I didn’t even get her name.
Then two days later a scout leader in Felixstowe contacted me to say that the lady I was on about on Facebook was ok. He had seen my comment and when a scout didn’t turn up for troop meeting and the reason for his absence was explained to him, he knew that this parent had a scout leader rush to her aid. It’s strange how small the world can be, when you’re in Scouting.
What’s Next?
Well it’s November 2013 and my world has fallen apart, every year I visit my granddad BILKO in Dorset since he moved down there from Ipswich. Grandad was not well when we visited in September, he was in a care home and not in a good place, but without fail we visited him and gave him the care that he has shown us all my life. But I received a call at the end of October informing me that he had passed in his sleep. Grandad Bethell always loved life, a pint and his pipe. I remember fondly our trips on holiday and out around the Dorset Coast.
Boscombe Pier was one of his favourite places, it was flat and allowed him to stroll a fair distance with his stroller and there was a pub on the front so you could sit and watch the world flow by. It was on one of these trips, that I sat watching him. You know as youngsters you would watch and learn from your elders. One by one the female runners passed and he would watch them run past, and then smile.
Realising that he was watching them, I said” you will never catch them you know. His reply was rather quick for an 88yr old man “ don’t worry boy, ” I’ll wait for them to come back, they will be tired then” He will be sorely missed, every day something reminds me of him. Love you bilko..
Losing someone close to you always make you appraise your own life. Over the last few weeks, apart from assisting the 11th Ipswich Scout Group with the Ipswich Fireworks at Christchurch Park, fighting a cold and cough. I seem to be thinking about my own fitness and next year’s big challenge of reaching 40 in good shape. Therefore the Camille’s Appeal has taken a bit of a back seat. I’ve been out on my bike for a few rides of up to 25KM and my jogging (not running) distance stands at 6.8km back to back. Now for some this would finish them, but I’m slowly building up my strength and ability to complete my challenges.
WHY? I hear you ask. Well I’ve always maintained if you train hard for a walking/physical challenge, the actual event will be slightly easier. So my aim is to complete 100km in under 4hrs on the London nightrider in June 2014. (See Camille’s appeal website if you fancy joining me), secondly I’d like to complete a marathon in under 5hrs if I can get into one without the huge fundraising totals required.
As for the Camille’s Appeal, I know the team are working hard to ensure that we are focused on the future of the project, but we have such a long way to go, if this is going to be a national charity.
But what keeps me coming back for more, why do I want to help others. Thinking back to the horrific video of the Bradford fire, and my parents and Grandparents commitment to helping others in the Army and Fire Services in Hampshire and Suffolk, I know that we as a family find it hard to let others suffer, while we can make a difference. Even my brother was hailed a hero bus driver in the papers, for supporting a gentleman who was attacked on his bus last year. Having been a first aider with st Johns ambulance, he was able to assist the guy and call for assistance, while others were unsure what to do.
So when you think you can’t help or make a difference, here’s what I do, I stop, consider my life and ask myself, is there anything I really want? Then I say, do I really need that?
If I answer No, then I have what I want and can afford to give my time and money to others who don’t have that luxury to help themselves.
I know I don’t have a big house, I don’t drive a fancy car, and I don’t give the impression that I’m wealthy. But I have a wealth that only someone who gives to others has. A knowledge that even when I leave this world, I have given to help others, I promised to do my best!. Just like those Police officers at the Bradford Fire video at the beginning of this book. They did their best, giving almost everything they had to help others.
And in the style of Jeremy Clarkson, Some say he’s mad, some say that he’s a kind caring guy, some even say his name is Stewart, Beef, but most people know me as BIG STEW………
If you have been touched by this 21,000 word brief story of my life, please feel free to visit my 40 in 40 challenge website, (give it time to load) there you will see my donations page and the remaining challenges. If you think you can help me achieve some of these I would be very grateful… I would be even happier if we could raise a thousand pounds for the Camille’s Appeal through my 40 in 40 challenge.
P.s I don’t want a 40th Card or Present, please Donate to the appeal. I have my health and my rock Karen and boy Jones.. https://mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/stewartbethell1