thedrifter
06-17-09, 08:16 AM
Our home fit for heroes
AS an active soldier, Colonel Martin Gibson saw service in Germany and Libya, as well as Northern Ireland at the height of the troubles.
For the last 14 years, on civvy street, he has been at the helm of Erskine, the veterans' charity which runs care homes, steering it into the 21st century and making it one of the highest-profile charities in Scotland.
He has greeted celebrity visitors including Ewan McGregor and has watched as huge sums of money flowed into Erskine - £1.5million was raised last year, not to mention a bequest of £3m - its largest-ever - from an elderly widow in Largs.
Given all of this, you wouldn't expect a man like this to be touched by the gesture of a little girl in donating her pocket money, but touched he undeniably is.
The girl, known only as Heather, was even mentioned in the annual report as one of last year's highlights, alongside visits by politicians and fundraising efforts by soldiers.
"She came in with her mum and dad during Erskine Week and said she wanted to give me her pocket money. That really got me," he recalls.
"I asked her why and she said there had been an uncle she never knew, who had been killed in the Falklands. That sort of thing just blitzes you.
"And we've had young soldiers, airmen or marines who come here, and they've got an immediate rapport with the residents. That sort of thing is incredibly humbling.
"Our supporters are our lifeblood. One fundraiser on Mull has been raising money for us for 30 years. We couldn't do this without them, simple as that."
Today Col Gibson, 62, stepped down after 14 years as chief executive of Erskine, to be replaced by Major Jim Panton, 40, a former army helicopter pilot who has arrived at Erskine after running Poppyscotland.
The colonel remembers that, when he arrived in 1995, he was struck by the slightly old-fashioned air at Erskine.
"We were very much a hospital model when it came to care," he said.
"I remember the nurses in their bonnets going around and the matron, a marvellous character with a bigger bonnet than anyone else, going along the corridors.
"The wards had curtained-off beds - there was no privacy at all. If someone was unwell, everyone was disturbed."
Erskine had just undergone a major strategic review to determine how it should tackle the 21st century, and the colonel, a former Chief of Staff of the Army in Scotland, was appointed to oversee the change.
The result, in October 2000, was the opening, by Prince Charles, of a brand new 180-bed complex. The mansion house that had housed the old Erskine was sold off and is now occupied by the upmarket Mar Hall Hotel.
Erskine's youngest resident now is just 23, the oldest is 102, and 43 of the 365 residents are women.
Col Gibson is proud of the improvements achieved in Erskine's level of care.
"Our delivery of care is very personal and individualised, and focused on the care of the elderly person," he said.
"Each resident's room is his or her personal castle. It's basically a home from home. They can have a computer there, family photographs, photographs of their military service.
"They can enjoy their independence and a quality of life despite the fact they need nursing attention."
He added: "For many residents, the staff are their family. The staff identify very closely with the residents, to the point where, when a veteran passes away, they suffer as well as the other residents.
"The bottom line is we are here to care for those men and women who put their lives on the line for their country, or were prepared to.
"Many of them had friends who made the ultimate sacrifice and this is as true today as it was at the end of the Second World War.
"I'm always amazed at the resilience of many of the residents. Despite illness, or injury from conflict, they have that spirit which is unique to people who've been in the armed forces, and that is what is at the heart of Erskine."
Some residents are in paid employment in supported workshops, such as print-making and furniture-making workshops, at Bishopton, the charity's base. Other residents have gained skills and been taken on as IT staff, drivers and chefs.
The coffee shop at Bishopton is to be relocated at the main gate so that passing motorists can stop for a while. And the live-in cottages on the estate are to be replaced by more modern versions.
Col Gibson, who is married with a son, a daughter and one grandson, has no plans to retire yet. "I plan to continue championing the veterans' cause," he says, "and I believe my experience here could allow me to help other charities that are facing difficult strategic decisions. So it won't be straight to the golf course."
As he prepared to empty his office, he pondered the routines - the recreational activities, the health check-ups and consultations - that have come to shape people's lives here.
"I always know when it's Friday morning here," he says. "There's the darts, the dentist come and a part-time member in speech and language therapy is here.
"I'm going to miss all that. This job has been a dedication and a passion. I'll miss all of that, and the people, of course." And maybe even the nurses with their bonnets.
Ellie
AS an active soldier, Colonel Martin Gibson saw service in Germany and Libya, as well as Northern Ireland at the height of the troubles.
For the last 14 years, on civvy street, he has been at the helm of Erskine, the veterans' charity which runs care homes, steering it into the 21st century and making it one of the highest-profile charities in Scotland.
He has greeted celebrity visitors including Ewan McGregor and has watched as huge sums of money flowed into Erskine - £1.5million was raised last year, not to mention a bequest of £3m - its largest-ever - from an elderly widow in Largs.
Given all of this, you wouldn't expect a man like this to be touched by the gesture of a little girl in donating her pocket money, but touched he undeniably is.
The girl, known only as Heather, was even mentioned in the annual report as one of last year's highlights, alongside visits by politicians and fundraising efforts by soldiers.
"She came in with her mum and dad during Erskine Week and said she wanted to give me her pocket money. That really got me," he recalls.
"I asked her why and she said there had been an uncle she never knew, who had been killed in the Falklands. That sort of thing just blitzes you.
"And we've had young soldiers, airmen or marines who come here, and they've got an immediate rapport with the residents. That sort of thing is incredibly humbling.
"Our supporters are our lifeblood. One fundraiser on Mull has been raising money for us for 30 years. We couldn't do this without them, simple as that."
Today Col Gibson, 62, stepped down after 14 years as chief executive of Erskine, to be replaced by Major Jim Panton, 40, a former army helicopter pilot who has arrived at Erskine after running Poppyscotland.
The colonel remembers that, when he arrived in 1995, he was struck by the slightly old-fashioned air at Erskine.
"We were very much a hospital model when it came to care," he said.
"I remember the nurses in their bonnets going around and the matron, a marvellous character with a bigger bonnet than anyone else, going along the corridors.
"The wards had curtained-off beds - there was no privacy at all. If someone was unwell, everyone was disturbed."
Erskine had just undergone a major strategic review to determine how it should tackle the 21st century, and the colonel, a former Chief of Staff of the Army in Scotland, was appointed to oversee the change.
The result, in October 2000, was the opening, by Prince Charles, of a brand new 180-bed complex. The mansion house that had housed the old Erskine was sold off and is now occupied by the upmarket Mar Hall Hotel.
Erskine's youngest resident now is just 23, the oldest is 102, and 43 of the 365 residents are women.
Col Gibson is proud of the improvements achieved in Erskine's level of care.
"Our delivery of care is very personal and individualised, and focused on the care of the elderly person," he said.
"Each resident's room is his or her personal castle. It's basically a home from home. They can have a computer there, family photographs, photographs of their military service.
"They can enjoy their independence and a quality of life despite the fact they need nursing attention."
He added: "For many residents, the staff are their family. The staff identify very closely with the residents, to the point where, when a veteran passes away, they suffer as well as the other residents.
"The bottom line is we are here to care for those men and women who put their lives on the line for their country, or were prepared to.
"Many of them had friends who made the ultimate sacrifice and this is as true today as it was at the end of the Second World War.
"I'm always amazed at the resilience of many of the residents. Despite illness, or injury from conflict, they have that spirit which is unique to people who've been in the armed forces, and that is what is at the heart of Erskine."
Some residents are in paid employment in supported workshops, such as print-making and furniture-making workshops, at Bishopton, the charity's base. Other residents have gained skills and been taken on as IT staff, drivers and chefs.
The coffee shop at Bishopton is to be relocated at the main gate so that passing motorists can stop for a while. And the live-in cottages on the estate are to be replaced by more modern versions.
Col Gibson, who is married with a son, a daughter and one grandson, has no plans to retire yet. "I plan to continue championing the veterans' cause," he says, "and I believe my experience here could allow me to help other charities that are facing difficult strategic decisions. So it won't be straight to the golf course."
As he prepared to empty his office, he pondered the routines - the recreational activities, the health check-ups and consultations - that have come to shape people's lives here.
"I always know when it's Friday morning here," he says. "There's the darts, the dentist come and a part-time member in speech and language therapy is here.
"I'm going to miss all that. This job has been a dedication and a passion. I'll miss all of that, and the people, of course." And maybe even the nurses with their bonnets.
Ellie