Aunty Da…A Windrush & NHS Legend

My name is Mike Shaft and I am the nephew of the legend that was Daphne ‘Patricia’ Drummond.

Firstly, we have to work out what we are going to call this wonderful lady.

In fact, I never even knew that her middle name was Patricia.

To me and my brothers, sister, my kids plus all of our cousins, she was always Aunty Da.

To her children she was of course Mummy/Mum with the exception of her son Rudolph and most of the people she worked with, who called her Sister Drummond.

My family and I live in Manchester, and we have travelled here today not to bury Auntie Da, but to celebrate a truly wonderful life!

Baity/Jackie was the youngest of the children and so is actually my aunt, but I’ve never called her aunt because our ages were so close. She was the last of SC Jacobs & Momma’s children and I was the first of their grandchildren.

Together, SC & Momma had a total of 8 children.

And there are children, Grand Children and Great Grandchildren of SC and Momma spread across the world.

And I am delighted to say that Aunty Meg and her family have travelled from The USA to be here today to help us celebrate this wonderful life!

Now, I remember when Aunty Da came back home to Carriacou for a holiday in the 60s. She bought her children Gillian and Rudolph with her, and I have to tell you it was as if the Queen herself had come home.

The days and nights just listening to their exciting stories about England were memorable.

My dad had left the Caribbean, again as part of the Windrush generation and it was not until 1968 that My Mother, Pansy, my brother Neale and I made the journey to the UK to join him.

On arrival in the UK, we travelled directly to Manchester via Heathrow, and it was some weeks before we travelled back to London to see Aunty Da and the Family.

Again, it was like going to see the Queen herself.

Although, as I said early, that Aunty da had come to Carriacou some years earlier, it was this visit to her in London that I really got to know her.

At this time, if my memory serves me right, the family lived in Archway, and the thing that I remember most about this visit was the food.

Aunty Da was an awesome cook. And I think many of us here today will know what I am talking about.

Personally, I think her Rotis, Macaroni & Cheese and plantain were my favourites.

Some years later when my brother Neale got married to Eileen, both of whom are here today, Aunty Da and the family made the journey to Manchester and bought with them an absolute feast of the above mentioned.

It, most definitely, made the day.

And talking about food I have to tell you the story of Aunty Da’s 70th Birthday party.

Now this was to be a surprise party to be held at the house in Enfield.

The question was, how do you arrange a surprise party for a lady who knew about everything before it even happened.

It was like a military operation.

The biggest problem was the cake. We all knew that the best cakes were baked by Aunty Da herself but how were we going to do this.

A friend got in touch with Aunty Da to see if she could bake a cake for the friend’s big party.

Aunty Da’s friend Myra took her to a show returning to find the house transformed into a party venue and full of friends and family.

The joy on her face was there for all to see.

It included one of her long-time friend Hillary who had travelled down from Manchester today with her husband Rupert.

Aunty Da and Hillary had travelled to the UK from the Caribbean on the very same boat and became life-long friends. They both joined the Health Service at the same time.

Hillary would do General Nursing, while Aunty da would go into Midwifery.

The family would like to thank Hillary and her husband Rupert for making the journey to be here today.

I have a saying that if it wasn’t for Aunty Da and Uncle Paul, I don’t know where we would be today.

As I said earlier, my mum and dad and the kids, now 4 of us, lived in Manchester.

Now I do not blame my dad for what happened in the next part of this story because it is my opinion that the system was designed exactly for this to happen.

Further, I know that many of you here will have experienced your own version of the story. But my dad was an alcoholic who was also addicted to betting.

Back in those days people received their wages in a brown paper envelope on a Friday.

Well, by the time he arrived home most of that had been spent at the bookies and the pub.

Eventually, our house would get repossessed, and we had nowhere to go.

It was Aunty Da and Uncle Paul who took us in and looked after us until we could get back on our feet.

I don’t know how we could have thanked them.

This story epitomises Aunty Da for me.

Aunty Da and Uncle Paul had three wonderful children… Gillian, Rudolph Sandra…And Carole…LOL!!!

This is the Aunty Da whose life we are celebrating today.

I know I can’t finish this tribute without mentioning sport.

Aunty Da loved her sport, Manchester United for football and the West Indies for Cricket. I think it is fair to say that, sadly, both had been letting her down lately.

The other day I was lying in bed and thinking about the number of people whose life had been impacted by Aunty Da.

She worked for over 50 years in various Maternity Hospitals in the Greater London area. She even continued to do Bank after retiring.

I understand that that means that she still made herself available for shifts when she was required.

And I want to give you this to think about.

I was told you cannot put a total number, as some nights no baby was born other nights it was non-stop. Just to say this, Aunty Da supervised probably, thousands of births in her capacity as a senior. For decades she worked within the NHS as a senior and held the important role, liaising with consultants and the management team.

A final story, when Aunty Da got ill she went to hospital to see a Consultant.

The consultant had great admiration for Aunty Da and her work history within the hospital. He always commented on how well she was dressed and how good she looked. He said there were patients who were younger with a lot fewer problems and she was the best and easiest woman to treat.

He wanted to give her a hug but because of covid he could not.

When Aunty Da went into the Royal London Hospital for a minor treatment, the anaesthetist recognised Sister Drummond.

Later in the evening she went upstairs to visit Sister Drummond. During this time, she helped Aunty Da to soften her food and even fed her at times.

Upon Sister Drummond’s departure the following day, 3 members of staff escorted her downstairs to meet her daughters who were waiting for her.

When asked why so many were taking her downstairs the reply was “we look after our own!” Aunty Da was treated like royalty.

The family found out that when Aunty Da had completed her training at Epping Hospital – Her father SC Jacobs had made a donation to the hospital.

Aunty Da lived a wonderful life and the family would very much like to thank you for coming here today to celebrate this wonderful woman.

The Final Journey!