Bert Miller

We first heard about the amazing Bert Miller when his daughter, Phyllis, contacted us. She had seen that we were asking for photos and stories from former staff and patients on our website and wanted to share the photos her father had saved from a skip outside Mildmay. Her husband Stan sent over the photos and told us some of Bert's story, which is below.

He then said that Phyllis would love to write some more and send it to us. When Phyllis's email duly arrived, we were amazed by the beautifully written story of Bert's life. Read Stan's précis below first, and then follow the link beneath it to read Phyllis's essay - you won't be disappointed.

"On your website, you ask for stories about the people and events that have impacted on the hospital during its history.

In that regard, I would like to tell you about my wife, Phyllis's dad, Bert Miller, who found the slides in a skip. He was a keen photographer himself and could not bear to see photos destroyed. A good job he did!.

Bert lived locally and worked five minutes walk from the hospital. He was a tailors cutter but was also responsible for designing a lot of the suits made by the Haftel factory. (This was in the days of the Carnaby St madness).

His first contact with the hospital was as a patient. He had an operation and stayed for a few days. He was so impacted by the care and love he received whilst in hospital that after his recovery he started to attend meetings. (the Monday night Boys meetings as they were called).

Moving on, the suit factory closed down and although he was offered several jobs ( he was well regarded in the tailoring trade) on the advice of the Matron he applied to become a porter in the hospital.

During his time as an employee, the hospital went through periods from being NHS-run, unoccupied and then an AIDS charity.

All this time Bert worked as a porter but became part of the fabric. It wasn't just about the job for him.

An interesting event happened whilst the building was unused. I apologise if you've already heard it. To save money it was decided that the cheapest way to secure the buildings was to employ a few of the porters to just sit in 24/7 to make sure nobody broke in.

It should be noted that the hospital closed following cutbacks by the Conservative Government. During the General Election campaign at the time a bright spark at Saachi and Saachi, who were the Tory Party advertising consultants, thought it would be a great idea to produce a TV ad showing what marvellous things the Tories were doing for the NHS. Where better to film it than in an empty hospital closed because of budget cuts? What could go wrong?

So there was Bert one morning doing his building babysitting act when suddenly into the car park rolled several vans, cars and minibuses. Out got an army of suited and booted production staff along with actors dressed as doctors, nurses and patients. Added to this, beds, screens and other medical equipment were taken into the building. A fully functioning ward was created and filming commenced. All was going well until another of the porters arrived to begin his "security" shift.

It was unfortunate for the production team that he was a lifelong union official and Labour Party member. He also hated the Tories and was upset about losing his proper job when the hospital closed.

All it took were calls to his favourite newspapers, The Hackney Gazette and The Daily Mirror.

Enter reporters and photographers, exit production crew, actors and fake bed pans. Needless to say the advert never happened.

Back to Bert. At the age of 65 he retired as a paid employee and immediately signed on as a volunteer, essentially doing the same job. By this time the hospital had reopened for AIDS patients, he would start work at 5am each day, (to take deliveries of milk, bread etc.) and be on duty all day and for several days a week.

He did this for several years and eventually "retired" at the age of eighty-eight. He loved the Mildmay, the staff and patients and the thought that he was helping people at a very difficult time of their lives.