VALEDICTION
We bid farewell to Princes Gate coming to Princes Gate in a taxi, and the driver told me a number of stories about Princes Gate, with one particular gem. He told me that the Native American heads adorning the front wall were due to a misunderstanding when JP Morgan asked for the façade to carry representations of ‘early Americans’. Morgan was apparently expecting George Washington and Benjamin Franklin, instead got Native Americans. I subsequently learned it was completely apocryphal, but I liked it anyway! I think that the way the building worked lent itself to the Collegiality feeling here – it’s been a really good building for holding College occasions that were formal yet, at the same time, had a lot of informality. We’ve had many high-level visitors and important meetings here, but I think most people who’ve visited here really liked it, and really enjoyed the opportunity to be here. Because I was honorary secretary when my family were growing up, my daughters would come to the building, for family trips or in the school holidays. There are real family associations with Princes Gate. I will definitely miss Princes Gate and I think as I drive past the building in the future I’ll always have a pang. There are so many happy memories for me here.
JOHN HORDER I am very fond of Princes Gate: it’s a rare thing – a building with that history – with the garden behind and the park in the front. As a building – the only minus of Princes Gate is that it’s not big enough. I think it’s done a very important job, but of course you have to also remember the regional faculties and the important work they’ve done. On my second day as College President, I went to Inverness, because I’ve always realised that the faculties are in danger of feeling left out, simply because they’re not in London. I see that Princes Gate is now not adequate, and I will mourn for the attractiveness of the building and the garden, and the history and the park in front. But I do so knowing that these are not what make up the heart of the College. Those things do count, but I think function has to come first. The new building will have the advantages of being near the major stations – and I gather there is the possibility of a roof garden, which will I hope be small compensation for the loss of the park. But the College is more than the sum of its parts; the building is, in a sense, a detail. It stands for the whole, but the College exists all over the country. One thing in particular I remember from my time as President is the wonderful help I received from the College staff. The College Council created a prize in my name for the staff, and I couldn’t think of a prize that would give me more pleasure to have my name attached to than that. I have a tremendous amount of admiration for the College staff. It’s the same thing that drives the whole College; we’re doing a job that is helping other people, and it feels worthwhile.
DONALD IRVINE In the early 1960s, when I first joined the College (of which my father was a Foundation member), the recently acquired 14 Princes Gate was already seen as the academic headquarters of the renaissance movement in general practice. It became the hub of a fast communications system for family doctors around the country intent on changing general practice, determined that it should evolve as a discipline in its own right whilst preserving caritas as its core value. For those who were then young general practitioners, Princes Gate was the place where we came under the spell of the first generation of prime movers and shakers – John Hunt, John Fry, John Horder, Donald Crombie, Eccke Kuenssberg, GI Watson and others. The beautiful building was part of the magic – mainly because when you came to London, you stayed there. For those of us in the new generation – Marshall Marinker, Paul Freeling, Conrad Harris, Clifford Kay, Denis Pereira Gray, myself and others, the ‘Princes Gate Experience’ was as unforgettable as it was irreplaceable. The conversations, often late into the night, were a ferment of ideas, from which much that we take for granted today first saw the light of day. Indeed, without the collegiate spirit and energy epitomised by life in the College at that time, it is perfectly possible that the new general practice would have faltered.
MARGARET BURTT
As the College prepares to leave Princes Gate for the very last time, some of the names and faces who have passed through its doors over the past 48 years share their recollections of a unique and very special place… Of course some little things stick in the mind. I remember Senator Edward Kennedy visiting the College and going straight to the deliciously rickety old lift, and up to Room 7 on the top floor, his old bedroom as a child. And former President Pat Byrne passionately thumping the table in the John Hunt Room to make a point when he was rudely interrupted by a great clap of thunder. Without a hint of hesitation he said: ‘Even the Almighty is with me’. Then there was the Iranian siege, and the pain of sitting at home watching the television as the roof next door went up in flames, and thinking that the College was finished. Awful. As 14 Princes Gate passes into our history I am pleased it is going to a private owner who intends to restore it to its former glory. It deserves it.
MAUREEN BAKER I have spent probably 15 years working for the College in which time I have been in and out of Princes Gate very frequently, and as a result, I am very fond of Princes Gate. It’s a very special building in a special location and, although we will have huge advantages from the building in Euston, I think we will really miss both being in Hyde Park and our lovely garden at the back of the College. It really is a lovely building; it’s got an amazing history and I always really enjoyed the historical associations that come with being here. However, I do remember one time
❛ The ‘Princes Gate experience’ was as unforgettable as it was irreplaceable. The conversations, often late into the night, were a ferment of ideas, from which much that we take for granted today first saw the light of day.
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Donald Irvine
When I came to the College in 1985, my first impression of Princes Gate, after seeing the ground floor rooms was that it was very grand – but when I came to the offices I found it to be rather different! It was a much smaller staff and nothing like as professionally varied as now – the PAs to the Officers doubled up as committee clerks, for instance, and we were mostly women. There weren’t very many male members of staff – apart from Paul Morris of PM Printers, who organised the College printing in what is now the Archives Department. However, then as now, the College staff worked hard and enthusiastically. On one occasion when we were about to send a mailshot to the membership about the coming Spring General Meeting, the mailing house went bust – so the mailing was brought back to the College and the entire staff had to down tools and gather in the Long Room and John Hunt Room to stuff envelopes. To help us in our work the College laid on music and plied us with cakes! Fortunately the membership was very much smaller then so it wasn’t quite as daunting a task as if something like that happened now! The memories I have of the place are all of the people I’ve met here – colleagues and members – and my favourite memories of Princes Gate tend to be about the events we’ve held here. I love the events, and I think the place really comes into its own when there’s an event like the summer reception. Some of the presidents have held lovely parties here, and I’ve very much enjoyed organising these events. It’s been one of the highlights for me. I’ll miss the terrace – I think it’s gorgeous, and I like the location of the building, opposite Hyde Park. I won’t miss the building as such, because it’s not an easy place to work in, and I think it will be great when we move into purpose-built accommodation. I think it will be really nice for us to be together: in this office, in this set-up, we’re in our little boxes, and it will be nice for us to work together.
VALEDICTION ❛ It’s only a building... but the memories are all of people. Whilst the architecture was beautiful, and the public rooms were a joy, it was the people who made the difference
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David Haslam DENIS PEREIRA GRAY
CLARE GERADA
In August the College leaves Princes Gate, the headquarters building since 1963, a brilliant investment by far-sighted leaders and a symbol of quality and status. Ownership of this building has broadly coincided with general practice emerging into its leading position in British medicine. Notable events included RMS ‘Mac’ McConaghey, a Council Member, initiating the first scientific journal of record for general practice in the world in 1961; another Council member, Richard Scott, becoming the world’s first general practice professor in 1963; the development of the MRCGP in 1965; the campaign in 1976 to achieve vocational training for general practice – the only branch of the medical profession to introduce mandatory training and limited tenure for trainers; and UK-wide vocational training mandated by Parliament in 1981. Such training was planned late at night by a few Council members staying regularly in the top-floor bedrooms. The College has recently become the Medical Royal College in the British Isles with the highest annual income and also the one with the biggest membership in the world. Now the College has outgrown this beautiful building which has served it so well. The new home, scheduled to open in 2012, is well positioned in the heart of medical London. It will allow the integration of College departments now spread around London, providing four times the floor space of Princes Gate.
My memories of Princes Gate focus on drugs! I held, with my friend Dr Chris Ford, the first RCGP Substance Misuse Conference here. We were worried whether we would fill the Long Room, in fact it was standing room only. From there we went from strength to strength and the College hosted the Substance Misuse Unit for eight years. I loved Princes Gate. Its strange rooms and always getting lost added to the fun.
DAVID HASLAM Where to begin? It’s only a building... but it has been part of my life for the whole of my professional career, from the sheer terror of facing my oral examiners in the Long Room back in 1976 right through to the astonishing privilege of being Chairman and then President. It’s only a building... but it houses so many remarkable memories. There were the countless working dinners in the Cleminson Room – though the one that sticks in my mind was a discussion on drug policy with David Blunkett when he was Home Secretary. Midway through the main course I realised that Sadie, his dog, was lying on my feet and hadn’t moved a muscle even when my napkin had slipped from my knee and was draped across her head. There were the countless meetings and committees and discussions and debates. There were the years I spent with the exam department, frequently buried in the bowels of the basement. There was the camaraderie of friends and colleagues. Of council and fellow officers. Of the wonderful staff who made my life and my work possible. Of people. It’s only a building... but the memories are all of people. Whilst the architecture was beautiful, and the public rooms were a joy, it was the people who made the difference. Naturally I will look back with wry affection to the original rattling lift, to the portraits and the grandeur, to the bedrooms and the flat which almost became my home for six fascinating years, to the terrace and the gardens – the terrace which made such a perfect venue for summer receptions. But without the people it would have been cold and silent, and with the people it lived and it breathed and it did us proud. If I had to choose one memory, just one memory, it would have been of my daughter’s wedding reception which was held in Princes Gate. That wooden floor outside the Long Room made a perfect dance area, and to hear the walls echoing to the sound of music and fun and joy is a memory that will live with me for ever. That’s a very personal memory – but that’s the way memories are. Goodbye, old friend. And thankyou.
ANTONY CHUTER The first time I came to Princes Gate was on a bitterly cold day in November 2006. It was for my interview to become a member of the Patient Partnership Group. My first impressions were ‘Wow!’ – the grandeur, the decoration with a North American twist; the Native Indian heads either side of the front door, the location on the park, the grand hall with the staircase flowing down, wood panelling, ornate plasterwork with feathers and rams’ heads and the history (JP Morgan the great philanthropist, the Kennedys, the Iranian siege). Then I was seated in the Members room, with its history, the names of the founding council in gold on a fantastic wood panelled wall, then the names of the past and current Presidents, Chairmen, Honorary Treasurers and Honorary Secretaries. I was given tea while I waited for interview and I thought ‘how civilised...’ ‘Wow’ and ‘how civilised’ really sum up the main areas of Princes Gate and the College. Each room with its distinct character – I have often sat in meetings and, in the quieter moments, considered the people and the events that have taken place in each room. The contrast, of course, comes when you venture into the ‘other areas’ – the offices where staff graft away, cramped, hot, papers and files piled up and filling shelf after shelf... The staff are stoic of course – such a contrast to the rest of the building; it is no wonder the move is needed. I will miss Princes Gate – the Summer Reception on the terrace, the dinners in the Long Room – but the College is bigger than Princes Gate; it is time to move on and we are moving to a fantastic building!
JACKY HAYDEN I remember first coming to the College for a meeting of honorary secretaries in about 1983. I was pregnant with my second child and Donald Irvine asked me where the next GP leaders were going to come from. I was astonished – first that he knew my name and that he was looking to me either as a leader or to identify other leaders. I remember Mike Pringle, Peter Hill and, I think, Roger Chapman being there and John Hasler taking me into his office for a phone call about leadership with Marshall Marinker who seemed terribly important and a big name in general practice. A lot of things spiralled from that day. The Council meetings were quite different. We always had a dinner the night before and often a study afternoon. The doors between the dining room and the common room were thrown open and we had a big formal dinner, with port passing to the left. Everyone then sat in clusters in the members’ room and when a few people dared to drift off at midnight, they were accused of having no stamina. At the time, I think Lottie Newman and a doctor from Wessex were the only women on the College Council so I was treated with a
mixture of respect and endearment, a bit like a china doll, but I never felt patronised. Some people think the College is pompous but I’ve never found it that way. I just remember real laughs and moments when history was made. I recall David Metcalfe, who was a leader in medical education in the 1990s, coming into the common room with an early draft of the GMC’s Duties of a Doctor and saying to me: ‘This is really exciting, we are setting the standards which state what doctors should do not what they should not do’. As for the draw of Princes Gate, I recently cancelled a hotel booking at the other side of London for a room at the College with a bed and a washbasin – I think that just about sums it up. As you walk through the front door and the receptionists greet you it feels like home.
STUART CARNE I became Honorary Treasurer in 1964. The College was facing severe financial difficulties at the time; indeed we were all but bankrupt. Though we had enough money to purchase the building, we had been overspending on administration and the larger premises necessitated a – muchneeded – increase in staff. To complicate the picture, every department had its own bank account, which made it very difficult to control our finances. The new headquarters in Princes Gate was less than three miles from my practice in Shepherds Bush, so visiting the College was rather like another house call – while still enabling me to carry on with my normal work as a GP. In those days general practice was considered by hospital doctors an inferior grade of medical practice without any special expertise of its own. It has been very gratifying to see the advances – both clinical and professional – that have been made since we moved to Princes Gate. Lots of memories stand out – the Kennedy connections, the beautiful garden, and the purchase in 1976 of the adjacent house in Princes Gate which enabled us to expand both our office and residential accommodation. I also remember the siege of the adjacent Iranian Embassy with the SAS troops drilling holes in the wall between the College and the Embassy so that they could get a view of what was going on inside. (In their hurry they made a mistake with the first hole they drilled – and drilled it into the inside of what was the College bookshop!). My wife – who was responsible for much of the redecoration of No 15 when it was purchased – and I will always have very fond memories of Princes Gate, but I think it’s now time to move on. Princes Gate is too small and totally inadequate for the many new tasks the College has to fulfil.
HILARY DE LYON My first memory of Princes Gate, perhaps not surprisingly, was when I came for my interview, and I was taken to the John Fry room to wait. I noticed that the curtain fabric in that room was identical to fabric I’d just used for a chair – and it made me feel very at home. So my first experience, even though it was a fairly stressful occasion – going for an interview, was that I would feel comfortable working at Princes Gate. I’m very interested in architecture and buildings, and I think that Princes Gate is a particularly interesting building. I’m very conscious of the history of the building – I often think about the fact that it was a home for the Kennedy family. There is something very special, I think, about the fact that the Kennedys – with their enormous impact on American and world politics – made this place their home. More than that, it’s a very beautiful
building, and I really think it will be a good thing if, after the College has moved, it is converted back into houses, because for me, at heart Princes Gate is a home rather than an office. You just have to look at the public rooms, which are beautiful, very elegant rooms for entertaining, and the terrace to know that people have always thoroughly enjoyed coming to the College. I will miss Princes Gate – not necessarily as a place of work, because I don’t think it is an easy place in which to work – but I will miss the atmosphere, and the history, and the fact that it is such a beautiful building.
JOHN TOBY Being a GP was a fairly lonely existence in the 1970s, and the College provided me with the theoretical and logical base for my work, as well as giving me supporting tools and professional standards at which to aim. My initial impetus for joining the College was intellectual support: it was a place to exchange ideas and a forum for debate. However, this was rapidly followed by personal support and equally, if not more, important were the professional friendships I made there. A lot of this came to be embodied in some way in Princes Gate. I first came to Princes Gate to take my membership exam – in what became Cleminson Room. We hadn’t been here long and the exam was a voluntary process in those days. I wanted to test my own ability and I’m pleased I did it, although I can’t remember my examiners! When I became an examiner myself and later supervised the exam in Princes Gate, I remember it as an iconic place but not a very convenient building to use as an exam centre. I was then younger and a bit fitter and I could get from the ground to the fourth floor faster than a lift full of candidates. The lift was another reminder of an earlier age! Having been an Officer and held offices at the RCGP for many years, the impact of the College on my life has been enormous – and Princes Gate has been an important part of that. During my time as Chairman of Council, I was here two or three days a week, so it really became a home from home, often staying in the penthouse when Presidents tolerated this (or were not there). The view of London and Hyde Park acted as an antidote to frenetic meetings, as did occasional strolls on the terrace or in the gardens. Of course, I remember the Iranian siege. I wasn’t in the building at the time – but I knew people who were – and I watched the television wondering why no one was attempting to put out the fires, fearing that the College was going to burn down! Council meetings in the Long Room also stand out as they will have done for other Chairs – none more so than the first one I chaired while I was still Chair-elect, as my predecessor Bill Styles was very ill. I had little preparation and it was a really emotional and highly charged meeting. Among many other memories, I associate many of the rooms with staff who worked so hard under adverse circumstances there and I must also mention Verena and the wonderful catering staff for the way they’ve looked after us all (including me) over the years. While I am personally sad about leaving Princes Gate, I think my overall feeling now is one of relief for the staff and the business of the College. Having been a regular visitor to the Joint Committee on Postgraduate Training for General Practice when it occupied fairly squalid offices in the basement, I am sure we have outgrown Princes Gate and the new premises will be much easier for the staff, as well as our Members and Fellows. That said, I don’t expect I will ever feel the same attachment to our new premises. I’ve been coming to Princes Gate for nearly 40 years and I am sure that our successors will have the same feelings about Euston, which is as it should be.
VALEDICTION
AMANDA HOWE
IONA HEATH
Four Fs – fear, fury, fun and family – best sum up my experiences of Princes Gate over the years. Fear – I remember first coming here as an AiT and examinee in the 1980s, being terribly nervous about my viva… putting on my tights and make up in the toilets (which were even worse then than they are now) before being grilled in the attic about my logbook. Fury – when I’ve felt that the College wasn’t what I wanted it to be. I remember coming to a course with two colleagues from Sheffield and sitting in the members’ room having a cup of tea when elder male members of the College at the time (and who shall remain nameless) came in. I thought they were going to ask us to leave, so I was ready to hit back that this wasn’t a gentlemen’s club and we were the modern face of general practice. Once they had adjusted to our presence, they were charming – but there is still something annoying about the College being so ‘establishment’ and all-powerful when it should be more inclusive and responsive to members. Fury also refers to the fantastic rows there have been at Princes Gate as we’ve debated issues that matter to the profession and our patients. Fun – the lovely garden parties, dinners, new members’ ceremonies and many happy times. Family – as I said in my William Pickles lecture, we are a family in which we squabble, challenge each other and have our differences but we also have shared experiences and values that we can rely on and develop. 14 Princes Gate itself has been the physical presence of the RCGP throughout my 30-year career in general practice. But for me, it’s what we do and achieve together that matters rather than the actual building – so time to say Farewell!
I first came to Princes Gate as a trainee, so it must have been some time in 1976. Paul Freeling was running a course for trainers and I was being a sample trainee. It was my first experience of a consultation with a simulated patient and mine wanted plastic surgery for his perfectly normal nose – I did my best but I certainly struggled! My next visit was similarly stressful, when I came to take my viva for the Membership exam in 1981, but it must have gone well because I ended up with the Fraser Rose Medal. John Horder was President of the College at that time and he was still a partner in the practice with which our practice shared a building in Kentish Town in London. He invited me to a dinner at the College and sat me next to Jan de Maeseneer, a young GP from Belgium. We discovered that we had similar interests in social justice and in the challenges of providing healthcare in deprived urban settings. We also had young children of almost exactly the same ages. Today, we remain friends and we have grandchildren of the same age and Jan is not only the Professor of General Practice at the University of Ghent but probably the single most influential general practitioner in the world today. In 1989, I stood in the national ballot for Council in order to make a statement, but with no intention of getting elected. I had not realised that this was at all likely. I have been a member of Council ever since and have spent many hours sitting in the Long Room, admiring its proportions and its plasterwork and comparing the merits of the various presidential portraits. I have listened to endless debates – some of them tedious, but most of them compelling – and learned to appreciate a wide variety of effective rhetorical styles. I have made many good friends and, all in all, I have had more delight in Princes Gate than any one person has a right to expect.
GREG IRVING Home sweet home – there is nothing like it! For me Princes Gate has been nothing less than a home away from home. A place where one could find companionship and security, a place of warmth and hospitality. Yet, it was the people who made this wonderful building a home – the very heart of the GP community. Neal Maxwell once said: “Good homes are still the best source of good humans”. In my experience this has certainly been the case at Princes Gate. I would go as far as to say this ‘good home’ has provided me with a ‘good family’ - a link to the past and the bridge to future. Clearly Princes Gate was far more than just a building made of bricks and mortar. It was building made with hopes and dreams – the very embodiment of Cum Scientia Caritas.
MIKE PRINGLE For many years ‘Princes Gate’ embodied the fear of the membership exam. The Long Room always brought back memories of screens and small cells, with two tired examiners going through their set questions and my discomfort rising. Despite passing, I associated the College building with stress. When I became the Vale of Trent Faculty representative the building became both familiar and kinder. I grew to love the faded glory of the first floor rooms; the threadbare bedrooms; the medieval plumbing; and the small offices. Any shortcomings in the buildings facilities were overcome by two features – the appearance of the building and the staff within it. When I was chair of Council
Work in progress: Two of the many thousands of meetings in the Long Room and on the Terrace I got to know every nook and cranny. I stayed three nights most weeks in the building. I had my own office that was, in reality, a closed-off corridor. The great charm was the immediacy of access to everybody who worked there. Princes Gate supported team-working when the team was of a manageable size. It was about 2000 when we began to rent other London accommodation to supplement Princes Gate. The structure could no longer sustain all our ambitions and, with the benefit of hindsight, that was the moment when the future of Princes Gate was sealed. I took a lot of persuading that the best option was to move on – it felt like an act of disloyalty to an old friend. However, I am not completely convinced that moving is the old option, both financially and more important functionally. We have a wonderful replacement building which will allow us to be efficient and to grow. But 14 Princes Gate will always have a special meaning, a unique emotional resonance for me personally.
CLAIRE JACKSON I joined the College in 2001, from the Royal College of Surgeons, so I’d already been used to working in a historic building but I have found Princes Gate beautiful on a much more intimate scale. You can really see the architectural details and get a real sense of connection with what is going on day to day. Experiences, I will long recall include lying on the floor outside the Long Room, alongside chief curator of the Frick Gallery of New York, as we tried to work out the relative ceiling heights of the different rooms on that floor to see if they were the same as in JP Morgan’s day. As we’ve been packing up for the move, delving through cupboards, covered in dirt, I’ve been given some new gems for the archives such as the MRCGP ‘game’ featuring a wooden owl which tumbles through all the various stages of RCGP membership from the exam to Fellowship (denoted as a halo!). The noise from the school, the demonstra-
tions outside the Iranian Embassy and seeing carriages taking members of the Royal Family to Kensington Palace have all added to the uniqueness and charm of the building and created an experience that you wouldn’t get anywhere else. I feel very lucky to have worked here.
KEN LAWTON COLIN HUNTER The first thing I remember about coming to the College is my first Council meeting, in the Long Room, a good number of years ago. There were a number of senior Council members who always sat in the same seat and I – in my complete innocence – came and sat in the seat usually occupied for Sir Donald Irvine. Fortunately a nice Council member tipped me the wink and I moved, very quietly, to the back benches. It’s a very nice building for me, and it’s been fantastic having the overnight accommodation in the same place as the office; it’s made it possible to work until midnight or from six in the morning by only moving a few yards. It’s going to be a bit different for the next two years. My favourite spot in the College is actually one that most members don’t get to see – the sitting room at the very top of the building in the flat overlooking Hyde Park. It’s a beautiful spot, with a lovely view, and nice open windows, and on a summer’s day you can open the door and have the breeze flowing through and hear the Household Cavalry trot past, and it’s all very nice. But I think the best way to describe Princes Gate would be to call her a lovely old lady. The upstairs residential accommodation could be best described as quaint; trotting along the corridor after a shower has always been interesting. You never know who you’ll meet or how they’ll react… I’m very hopeful for the future, in particular for the staff and their working environment. There’s a lot of history associated with Euston Square and I think that the College will take its place in that history in a very short space of time.
I’ve been coming to Princes Gate for over 20 years, when my hair was still dark! My first visit was to attend a Computers in General Practice training course and I remember being really impressed by this grand building in the West End of London and thinking that this was a good College to be a member of. I was very impressed, walking in through the front door – and less impressed when I got to the bedrooms! I think I’ve slept in every bedroom on the top floor, with and without ensuite facilities, and let’s just say they have certain charm. It‘s going to be a big wrench leaving Princes Gate. For my generation it represents the College, and I have wonderful memories, particularly of the past five years. It’s been a fantastic place with fantastic people and I’ve had the privilege of meeting many of my heroes from when I was a young GP. There’s a real sense of collegiality and I’ve loved working with people like David Haslam, Steve Field and Iona Heath. I have happy memories of happy times, but we have to admit we’ve outgrown the building, as I am always reminded when I sit in the increasingly crowded Council chamber. We work in a beautiful building in Edinburgh and, when I look around my lovely spacious office, I’m often grateful I am not the UK Chair. Doctors and staff from RCGP Scotland always talk about the lovely welcome they receive at Princes Gate. The staff are fantastic, from the front desk onward; they really care about the College and the doctors. I’ll also remember the great breakfasts which, in any other part of Knightsbridge, would have cost about £15!
To be continued...