Founded 1980
Chair:        
Secretary: 
Treasurer: 

Graham Smith
Jan Thompson
Graham Mumby-Croft


Having received Issue Number 93 Autumn 2025 Retired Prison Governors’ Association (RPGA) Newsletter through my letterbox this morning, I sat down in my cold house and read it from cover to cover. There are several reasons for this. 

Firstly, my heating packed up on Tuesday, today being Friday, and although I have five-star cover, it has not yet been fixed. I rang on Tuesday morning to book an engineer to fix the problem, but they could not attend until the next day, Wednesday. Here I must digress a little. My wife is in the throes of early dementia, and I was due to attend the funeral of my daughter-in-law’s father on Wednesday at 11.45. I asked my wife if she would be happy for the gas man to call whilst she was in the house on her own, and she replied that she wasn’t. I really knew the answer before I asked the question, but thought it worth a try. My daughter, who lives within spitting distance (is one allowed to say that these days?) is my wife’s official carer – my wife refused point blank for me to be involved in her care – and usually helps out at times like these, but she is a teacher and has her own life to live. She cannot attend at the drop of a hat, (do people still wear hats now, apart from baseball caps and floppy beanies) and so the result is that I must arrange for said gas (man) person to attend on Thursday. The appointment was booked, remotely, for between 8 o’clock and 1 pm. The gas man (shades of Flanders & Swann in the story here) came at five minutes past one. Is this just my experience of appointments or does it happen to everybody? Somebody surely must have been visited at 8 am, why not me? He said that he would carry out our annual service whilst he was here, because that was overdue, and we must have received a letter about it. Alright, Mr. Clever Clogs, it’s not all wine and roses when you are retired you know, I do have things going on in my life! (Tell me if I’m overdoing the exclamation marks!) 

So the engineer decides to service the downstairs gas fire first before attending to the problem of why the heating is not working. This despite my wife curled up in bed to keep warm, and me having the look of Captain Oates in outdoor clothing. My daughter later pointed out that we have a small portable heater in the conservatory that we could have been using. When she says “we” she of course means that it would be in my wife’s bedroom while I donned yet another layer of clothing sat downstairs. At 3.45pm he told me the fan in the boiler had burnt out and he didn’t have the right one in his van. He phoned his mate up, and he did have one and agreed to drop it off. This happened remarkably in about 20 minutes. Of course, the saga doesn’t end there, does it? Once the fan had been replaced there was something else wrong, the non-return fluffle valve or something wasn’t working, and he would have to order the part. He also said that the circuit board had blown because he had discovered water in the boiler. Another revelation! Water in the boiler! How on earth did that get there? (I point out at this juncture that we have a combi boiler.) He said it was very rare but not unique – outdone again! – and with the recent storms the water must have come down the flue. Is this another peril of living in the Norf? The best revelation was yet to come; he only worked part time, Wednesdays and Thursday, but he would pass it on to another engineer, as he was sure we didn’t want to wait till next Wednesday to get the heating fixed. How did he guess that! He then said the other chap wouldn’t be arriving till between 12 and 6pm. 

It is now just before midday on Friday. And the real reason I wanted to write this article was to comment on Paul Laxton’s picture of APS 1 in 1991. There are a lot of familiar faces, and I would like to reminisce about some adventures I had with a few of them. 

I’ll start with Dr David Cornwell. I met David whilst I was working in the Standards Audit Unit from 1996. A fascinating man, David had a first career in the army, ending it as Colonel of 2 Para. I only mention his rank and regiment because whilst auditing HMYOI Brinsford some years later, and wearing his regimental tie, he was being searched at the gate (an unusual practice which we queried as it never happened to any other person entering the jail, which we later noted to the Governor; it was the early days of audits and people employed unusual practices which they thought might please the visiting team). The Officer searching David noticed his tie and said he was in the Parachute Regiment and asked if David was in the same unit. His surprised look on the Officer’s face when David told him he was the Colonel of 2 para was priceless. 

David then pursued a degree in Criminology from York University, after which he pursued a career in the Prison Service. He came to the Unit having been Deputy Governor at HMP Frankland (to Peter Leonard if I recall) and I travelled in his team for quite a while. Two instances stick out in my mind. About 1 am whilst concerning ourselves with HMP Hull, the fire alarm in the hotel went off. Everybody evacuated and lastly David came down the front steps of the hotel with the hotel Manager, still fully clothed and pipe ensconced between clenched teeth and proclaimed to all and sundry “I did that, sorry.” Apparently, he was sat at the desk in his bedroom typing up the day’s events and smoking his beloved pipe right under the smoke alarm. The large, bosomed ladies in staunch dressing gowns and rollers in their hair were not amused. 

David has his own style. Once whilst writing up an executive summary of our visit to HMP Durham, he asked me to cast my eye over the introductory paragraphs. I quote:

“Abutting the north wall of the prison lie the dwelling houses of the poor.” By this he meant there was a council estate outside the prison. I mentioned that it might be couched in slightly more friendly language, and it was duly amended. 

I hope he still lives a long and fruitful life. Whilst auditing a prison in North Yorkshire near his home he invited us for a meal. His tongue loosened by alcohol he told us he was still a hostage negotiator for the Metropolitan Police, and some interesting stories were exchanged. Whilst I was at HMP Manchester he had been one of the negotiators during the riot of 1990, but our paths never crossed then. An excellent cook he was, and with a Another acquaintance was Peter Bolton, also part of Standards Audit whilst I was there. Peter went off with Peter Leonard to help the Northern Ireland Prison Service, a job I would not have taken at that time. I know Paul Laxton of course, from my time on the committee of the RPGA, and whom I see at Emirates Old Trafford catching up on Lancashire County Cricket Club’s fortunes or otherwise. Mick Farrington, I knew at HMP Manchester, although I think he left after the major event on 1 April 1990. Rob Kellett, I knew from when I worked at Abell House introducing Performance Standards to The Prison Service, and also when I was Area Performance Co-ordinator for the West Midlands under Bryan Pailing. Ferdie Parker was Deputy Governor at Birmingham under Mike Shann when I was at WMAO and became a good friend after I had tasted his lemon drizzle cake. Dave Hoskins, I knew through the regional meetings of the PGA which usually took place at Newbold Revel. 

It is 1440 hours and the doorbell has rung. I hope his coat has British Gas written all over it. It is he, and he is upstairs with his nose in the boiler as I speak. I might have more news in the next edition. 

DAVID TAYLOR

The Joys of Old Age and Modern World Problems 
David Taylor