Meet Our TeamThese are just some of our volunteers at ME Free For All.org
They are like one big family - The Addams Family!
Some of them have flown the nest of their own accord but others have more resolutely resisted the obvious shove from within it and we're still stuck with quite a few of them.
Still, it keeps them off the streets and out of mischief for a few hours each day and we see it as our way of giving something back to society.
They all have an IQ of around 140. .... Erm, just in case there is any doubt, we do not mean that each one of them has an IQ of 140 but that, if you were to add all their IQs together, you might just scrape 140.
[Correction: there is a typo in the above text. For 140 (0ne hundred and forty), please read 14 (fourteen). We are sorry for any misleading information given.]
Since they are all volunteers, they get paid nothing, which is a rather higher rate than some of them deserve.
Katie graduated from the University of Birmingham with a BSc (that's Bachelor of shopping for clothes).
Despite being exposed to persistent, undiluted, speech of native Brummies for three years, she has, remarkably, retained the ability to speak intelligible English.
While most people, having escaped the tentacles of Spaghetti Junction, would not return to Britain's second city, unless under armed guard or in a straitjacket, Katie is voluntarily heading back to the Black Hole - and is right on target for the Bull Ring - to train to be a teacher.
It must be a vocation and she is determined to achieve it, against all the odds, "I've always wanted to be a teacher and now I are going to be one. I want to teach gooder that I was teached meself," she enthuses.
Asked about the day-to-day sulks, tantrums, wet knickers and snotty noses that have to be dealt with, she cheerily replies, "The kids'll just have to get used to it."
But Katie's ultimate dream is to star in a West End musical. If some impresario were to come along and discover her musical virtuosity and terpsichorean skills, she'd be off out of that door and up to the gold-paved streets of London before you could say Andrew Lloyd Webber, deserting an undisciplined, uneducated, rabble (and her schoolchildren). It would be tough but we'd let her go for two free tickets anywhere in rows A - G and an overnight stay in a hotel that has a trouser press and mini bar.
Katie is our star pupil. She could not do better, next term, than the best she has already done for us. She has more smiley faces than anyone else has ever had and she has never once had to sit on the naughty stair, or miss her turn in the sand pit or Wendy House. And we have her bestest crayon drawing of her stick family, who all have X-ray hands and live in a line-drawing house, under a cotton wool cloudy sky, illuminated by a yellow spherical sun with spiky bits, under our fridge magnet as a permanent reminder of her. Debbie B
Having lived with M.E. and FMS for nearly 13 years now and more recently a thyroid problem that is still ongoing in its diagnosis, Debbie keeps herself busy by letting her tortured mind express an abundance of frustrations and annoyances through poetry on her own personal poetry site - www.reflectionspoetry.co.uk
After spending some time managing two local bands, she decided it would be easier and slightly more enjoyable to bang her head against a wall everyday then try to keep 9 grown head-banging men organised, rock n roll huh?!
Debbie has a City (Well, small Village) and Guilds in photography and enjoys terrorising family, friends and small animals in my local park by waving her camera at them every chance she gets.
She combines the photography with another hobby, monument hunting. She has dragged herself (when energy allows) and her poor long-suffering husband across many a muddy field in Britain finding stone circles etc. -- divorce is not so far off now!
Debbie holds a Reiki degree 1 and 2 which, she tells us, qualifies her a practitioner, although she has never followed this path and uses reiki mainly for family, friends and her two very old pampared cats [and we thought it was paper-folding or flower arranging!].
She resides in East Anglia with her husband of 10 ears. [sack the typist: that should read, "10 years" or 1 decade.]
In our search for an intelligent, articulate, industrious co-worker, with tact and diplomacy, in whom we could confide, rely upon in times of delicate negotiation and who would be an invaluable asset to our happy team, we immediately thought of asking Jill ... if she knew anyone like that.
Jill is in charge of cleaning out our mice cages, not real rodents but when the bellybutton fluff of life overwhelms our devices to control cursor movements, Jill has fingernails that make Cruella De Vil seem well manicured.
Jill has an Olympic Gold Medal for bargain shopping. She wears only designer label clothes - "Oxfam", "Save the Children", "Scope", "NSPCC" ...
She is tea total. No, we haven't spelt that incorrectly; she does drink tea 100% of the time. Co-incidentally, she is teetotal as well and we don't mean that she is always playing golf.
We still think of him as Pewter Gobson, after a misprint in the local paper.
Peter is ochlophobic, which means the he has an intense fear of large crowds - No problem then, for a keen Bristol Rovers supporter, who follows them everywhere. Everyone knows that Bristol Rovers was founded in 1883 but few realise that three of the original players are still in the first team. Fans are called, "Gas Heads", after the picturesque feature at one end of the original ground. Peter's a smack head; nothing to do with drugs, you understand. It's due to a permanent indentation on his forehead, from the heel of his hand, on hearing the football results every Saturday afternoon. Peter writes for the football programme. His greatest accolade is the Imaginative Journalist of the Year award for managing to work the phrase "thrilling encounter" into a match report.
It's not his only talent. Peter sings in a choir. His most embarrassing moment was singing the rude football words to "Bread of Heaven" in a cathedral. What an own goal that was!
Still, Peter is our man of the match and star player.
John Howard Greensmith, born in 1953, chose the relatively slower news day of 30 May to come into the world, between two other noteworthy events - the conquering of Everest and The Coronation - that were vying for front page coverage at the time. While the Sixties were in full swing, the foundations of his classical education were being dug. Piles of knowledge were being driven into place by Christian Brothers, using methods that just wouldn’t be allowed today. Still, it didn’t do him any harm and he thanks them for it now.
He read psychology at The University of Liverpool, a solid redbrick institution, anyone would be pleased to call his Alma Mater. Then it was on to Cranfield, a sort of postgraduate finishing school, nestling in rural Bedfordshire, where a Masters degree and a PhD really mean something. A glittering career as a Research Psychologist was cruelly cut short by the dreadful, debilitating, disorder M.E. (myalgic encephalomyelitis) which came from nowhere in 1988, bringing with it unaccountable fatigue and chronic muscle pain and which stubbornly refuses to leave.
On good days he just laughs in its face. He lives in Bristol but, though he has called it home for more than 40 years, he still hasn't mastered the language. He is, however, fluent in Scouse and has a smattering of conversational Geordie.
Aaron Habte comes from Eritrea. Well, not every day obviously; the bus fares would be prohibitive.
Come on, admit it, you don't know where Eritrea is, do you? No, we thought not. Well, get a map of Africa and you'll see it is the landlocked country between Bobgeldofland and Ohnoitsbonoville.
Aaron is a Psychology Graduate from the University of Bristol and aspires to do postgraduate work in neuropsychology - if he can get his head around it.
Matthew is our communications man. Cocoa tins & string, he has moved on ... Sorry, that should have read, he has moved on TO cocoa tins & string. When we asked him if he had anything more advanced than semaphore, he suggested semafive.
At first, we thought he had a hearing aid but it's a hands free set for one thing or other that rings or plays music. He's got so much electronic paraphernalia about his person that, if he went anywhere near an airport, he would cause a security alert before you could say Osama Bin Laden. We've had him checked out and he's safe enough; in fact, he thought that Al Quaeda was an old music hall comedian.
Brenda is a very keen rambler. She belongs to a club which organises long walks on Sunday afternoons - even when there is a perfectly good bus service. If you phone up the ramblers for details, they just go on and on and on and on ...
At one time you wouldn't have had to send her to Coventry - because she was already there.
Brenda is a former Tesco girl. You couldn't buy another one like this, let alone get one free. Still, every little helps.
Michele does quite a lot of her work from home on a PC that is rather unique. It was built by two men - Heath and Robinson. It was contructed from parts found around the house - a watering can, toaster, duvet cover, sink plunger, bowl of blancmange ... The software is not compatible with any other machine; in fact bits of the software are not compatible with each other.
All the more remarkable then that, of all our team, Michele has made the greatest strides in computer wizardry. When she came to us at first, if you asked her to open a new window, she thought you meant her to let in some fresh air.
Daliany Kersh was born in Malaga, Spain in November, 1981 but moved to London at only 4 months old when her parents divorced.
She had an extremely happy childhood with her mother and the two of them have always been the closest of friends. At secondary school she was very popular, due to be Head Girl, jogged every night, was in the netball team, excelled in every subject and was famous for her quick wit and humour.
Then overnight, in December 1997, she was struck down with a gastroenteritis virus which left her unable to even sit up in bed. Several horrific months later she was diagnosed at having ME, from which she has not yet recovered.
Unable to return to school for the final term to finish the syllabus, she nevertheless persevered at home with her GCSEs, and took all 11 exams, from her bed, with an adjudicator and amanuensis in the room. Her brilliant results are a testimony to her determination to succeed despite her illness.
Inevitably she suffered a huge relapse and has not been able to resume formal education, though over several years she managed to self-teach and successfully sat AS and A Levels.
She has no intention of giving up hope of becoming a medical doctor one day and feels that her experience as a chronically ill person will help her be an excellent physician.
Daliany is passionate about Italian football, especially AC Milan, loves films, fashion, music and travel. Still cheery and optimistic, she was recently featured in New! Magazine and is only too willing to talk to the media about ME and to (politely) set the record straight about ME whenever this proves necessary!
Lynne, Daliany’s mother, is her full time Carer. She is 53 (but don’t tell anyone) and enjoys reading, writing, trawling the Internet, travelling, eating, cooking and films.
She has recently helped Carers in Hertfordshire set up a pilot Survey on Carers’ needs and is involved with all aspects of ME. She has chosen to be by her daughter’s side throughout the illness and together they aim to find something good in every day despite the prison that is ME.
Though not religious in the slightest, her mantra is the Prayer for Serenity:- God grant me the Serenity to accept what I cannot change, The Strength to change what I can. And the Wisdom to know the difference.
Nico Koenrades, Principal Sponsor.
Nico (pronounced knee - co) was born, grew up and went to school in Leiden, a big city of about 118,000 in South Holland Province, in the west Netherlands. The Pilgrim Fathers lived there too before sailing to America in 1620.
Aged about 16, Nico left his beloved city and friends for the countryside of Coevorden where they spoke a different dialect he found tricky to understand. Years later, he has mastered several languages. After careers in housebuilding and seafaring, he found his true vocation in I.T. and set up his own company www.1link4it.co.uk No stamp collecting, or pressing wild flowers for Nico; he goes in for bungee jumping and parachuting out of planes.
Apart from a temporary blip of insanity, with the Smurfs during the late 70s, which could so easily have provoked an international rift, The Dutch have never given us much trouble, coming over raiding & pillaging, in longboats or that sort of thing. In the same tradition, Nico came over, in peace, on a big white bird emblazoned KLM, flying by the seat of his lederhosen, to claim the hand of his fair Lady Chris.
Disappointingly for the stereotype, he hates Edam, tulips are not his favourite flowers and he hasn't any wooden footwear to his name. Even the meeces in his windmill trip silently down the stairs, clogless. He runs best on litres of Koffie, still believing that instant coffee is mouthwash and imports prodigious mountains of it, startling customs officers at the quantities he claims are for personal use.
Margaret came to us from the Bristol Volunteer Centre - and we sent her straight back there. It's true, she now works one day a week at the Volunteer Centre, finding voluntary work for volunteers to volunteer for. If she finds us a good volunteer, we'll give them her job and she'll be able to volunteer some more.
Her passion is ballet. Ask her the difference between an accompanied song for solo voice from an opera, cantata or oratorio and a joint between the forearm and upper arm and you realise that she really knows her arias from her elbow.
She is well travelled in the USA, having visited most states. When she told us that she planned to visit the state of her name, we told her that there isn't one called Margaret.
Rose was born in Bristol but her roots are in Jamaica.
The nearest she's ever been to real Caribbean culture is buying some spicy food from a stall next to a steel band at the St. Paul's Carnival.
Her family may have a claim to one of the oldest music hall jokes being told in the opposite direction. When Rose tells people that her Mother came from the West Indies and they ask "Jamaica?" she chuckles, "No, she came of her own accord."
Stephen went to Oxford. And we don't mean just on an "Inspector Morse Trail" day out either. He's a maths graduate of the City of Dreaming Spires. We haven't found a really hard sum that he can't do yet.
When someone wrote to ask if he had ever rowed for The Dark Blues, he replied that he had never been in the debating society and he is not very argumentative anyway.
About the Boat Race, he says it's really quite extraordinary how the same two teams get in the final every year.
He works in a library now so we are writing this biography very quietly indeed. When asked, by one reader, if he could direct them to the self-help section, he replied that, if he did, it would surely defeat the object. Neil is a great adventurer. You have to be to work here. Whe it comes to mountaineering, he has a range of experience - several ranges actually.
Neil's been all over the world. When he told us he especially likes Chile, we turned down the heating and gave him a red hot pepper to suck on.
An expert in Antarctic exploration, Neil asked us all that trick question why polar bears never eat penguins? We knew straight away that it's because, with paws that size, they can't get the wrappers off and, anyway, in a recent survey, 8 out of 10 polar bears said they prefer Kit Kats but don't often have them for the same reason. The pengins can manage it - but they're poles apart from polar bears.
Neil was once a member of the Red Arrows - his local pub darts team in Bolton. They've broken up now but hope to come into reformation. We have managed to break his unnerving habit of hurtling towards you, arms outstretched, screaming, "NNNNNEEEEUUUUURRRRRGGGGHHH! and taking avoiding action just at the very last minute.
Steven mulltitasks bigger and better than any Swiss army knife.
He moves at such a speed that we call him "The Roadrunner". Even in an otherwise empty office he bounces off our network of computers like a pinball wizard.
Steven's a head-banger. The trouble is that it's your head he bangs. We think he may be on the way to disproving the theory that you can only think of and talk about up to seven things at the same time.
He lives on chocolate biscuits and would sell his soul for a special kebab.
Lena is from Germany, which means that we take every opportunity to mention the War and the World Cup of 1966. Lena soon made herself at home and she soon made seven matching work suits for our team members - not one for Liesl, one for Kurt, one for Friedrich, as you are probably thinking but one for Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey etc (bet you can't name all of them). She is now running up a little yellow and blue number for herself out of all the duvets and has cut half the perimeter of a red frisbee for an alice band. On Christmas day we shall all come out of the trenches to play football. Our boys (Tommy, Chalky, Nobby, Dusty, Ginger and the others) will allow Fritz a complimentary goal. Tommy levels the score and then Chalky adds another that should put the game beyond doubt. But, no, Wolfgang has to go and spoil it all with an equaliser, doesn't he? Still, no problem for our boys, could make it a bit more exciting for those back home. Tommy gets another couple and a knighthood. For those of you on the pitch thinking it's all over ... it is now. |
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