An article by Phil Angold, one of the workers at the support home in our street, and Dr Matthieu Crews, Specialist Registrar Psychiatrist with South London and Maudsley NHS Trust, a sometime neighbour in Mayall Road. It first appeared in 2011 in an edited form in SLaM News, the in-house magazine of the Trust.
__________________
The network of rehabilitation support homes run by SLaM in Lambeth includes a number of properties which have some interesting histories and locations. One example is a particularly fine, large, detached house in leafy Woodbourne Avenue, Streatham: once visited by a BBC Panorama film crew and the journalist and presenter, Polly Toynbee, no less. To the delight of support staff, in her subsequently televised piece, Ms Toynbee described the house as, “A model of community care”. In the early autumn of 1990 it was one of the first homes to be opened for former, long-term in-patients of that grim, now long- demolished, Edwardian establishment, Tooting Bec Hospital. A place now, mercifully, one trusts, only a fading memory for those remaining residents in supported housing who were among the first to make those early, important steps which finally took them out of institutional care.
Another is a house in Mayall Road, Brixton, which is, more accurately, two substantial terraced houses converted into one very spacious, nine bedroom home: an architectural feature also seen elsewhere within the supported housing network. The house, despite being a conversion, blends in well with its neighbours. It has been something of a guiding principle for those involved in supported housing that properties which have been acquired for use as support homes should not stand out as being obviously different from neighbouring houses. The use of signage is, therefore, scrupulously avoided.
Mayall Road, my workplace for some years, has the distinction of neighbouring the once notorious Brixton “Frontline”, Railton Road. The ground floor rear verandah of the house, in fact, overlooks part of that internationally infamous drag which was the subject of Eddy Grant’s much-loved lyrics, sensational press coverage, and even part of the report of a ground-breaking Public Inquiry (Scarman, 1981) in its day.
The Brixton Riots of April ’81, whose causes Lord Justice Scarman was tasked with investigating, were, arguably, among the worst scenes of violent public disorder in South London in living memory. Railton Road, a major flashpoint, became the site of a pitched battle between rioters and police which raged, as night fell, by the light of burning buildings. Arson, vandalism and widespread
looting all took their toll on an already blighted area, much of which was subsequently demolished and redeveloped. New social housing replaced homes and commercial premises which, in some cases, had been entirely gutted by fire. (http://www.urban75.org/brixton/history/riot1.html)
The house has also seen its share of lively action, albeit of a different order, since its inaugural opening in the summer of 1993: an event which I was lucky enough to attend. I recall beautiful floral arrangements; a sumptuous buffet; lashings of ginger beer and cola; and a formal blessing by the then Trust Chaplain. Residents and support team members alike were dressed in their finest. An especially elegant, shimmering kingfisher blue lounge suit, still looms large in the memory ….
Concerns, however, were raised from early on that, given the close proximity of the drug dealing scene in the centre of Brixton, and the relatively high incidence of mugging and street prostitution nearby, vulnerable residents might find themselves targeted and preyed upon, once their presence in the area became known.
Some of these fears proved to be well-founded. Unsolicited visitors who, to the alarm of some staff, “befriended” certain residents, became a problem for a time: but, whether due to the residents’ maturing street wisdom, better policing of the area, or the tact and vigilance of support staff, these difficulties have now receded into the past.
Life at Mayall Road has also become significantly quieter in another important respect. Since the closure of the Waterloo International Eurostar Terminus, the air is no longer rent at regular intervals by the unmistakable, fearful rumble of Chunnel-bound behemoths making the first stage of their continental journeys. The closure was a cause for general rejoicing; particularly, for those neighbours whose homes back onto the nearby track.
Mayall Road has long been known for its annual summer street parties which are now regularly held on the Sunday of the August Bank Holiday weekend. Residents and team members have together become enthusiastic participants over the years. I recently learned that, some years ago, these neighbourhood events unexpectedly came to the attention of Specialist Registrar at SLaM,
Dr Matthieu Crews …..
“ In 2003, during my first job as a qualified doctor, I moved into a flat on Mayall Road, almost directly opposite the SLaM house described – one of those properties where the Eurostar would pass perilously close to the windows, shaking my room from 5am until late, as trains crawled through the backyards of South East London.
I was unaware at the time that the building across the road formed part of a network of properties run by SLaM. It resembled any other house on the street; I did not know what SLaM was and, at that stage in my career, I had never done a day’s work in psychiatry. Little idea did I have that, by strange coincidence, I would find myself working in the building opposite as a psychiatrist, several years later.
The summer I moved to Mayall Road, colourful flags in the form of traditional street bunting crossed the road, from side to side and along its entire length. Curious to know why, I later discovered that since the 1977 Royal Jubilee, the residents of Mayall Road had put on their famous street party for many of the next twenty five years, providing residents with a wonderful opportunity to feel both proud of their street and part of their heritage.
Much to my disappointment during the year I lived there, there was no party; nor would there be for some years. A lack of interest in things royal, perhaps, or maybe, reflecting a wider loss of community pride? Six years later, however, in 2009, whilst working within the Lambeth rehabilitation service as a psychiatrist providing input to SLaM residential houses, I learned from staff that the annual Mayall Road party had returned and that the residents of the supported home were once more able to share in the sense of community belonging and friendliness that Mayall Road so easily provides.
If ever passing through the area, a walk there is recommended. Given its truncated form, the street leads nowhere. It is largely deserted other than by the odd car parking and children playing freely in the road; something that adds to the unique feel of the place. A feeling for me that was apparent the very first day I walked along the street and still exists each time I return. A true sense of community, perhaps; so lacking in much of modern day London “.