A smile that has filled collection boxes

From drays to cheques... Brian Hurst, a real man for all seasons

Martyn Meets... Brian Hurst former Dr Kershaw’s fund-raiser

THREE weeks ago, Brian Hurst walked away from a job he described as a labour of love and he admits there is little chance he will fully sever his ties with Dr Kershaw’s Hospice.

Yet the man who is most closely associated with the cancer care home in Turf Lane, Royton, where he was in charge of fundraising for 16 years — 14 as a paid employee after two years as a volunteer — recognises he has to be hands-off now that he has finally retired.

And that will be hard for a man who has been fully charged and ultra-committed hands-on and whose face has been seen in more pages and more copies of the Oldham Chronicle than any other person I know.

And he’s always smiling, always happy.

And always receiving a cheque.

“It’s a part of the job: I would be out four and sometimes five nights a week. People have events and raise money for the hospice and then have a presentation night.

“I was a lovely, wonderful part of the job. I have met some marvellous people over the years, some outstanding people.”

He readily admits that without the enduring and enthusiastic support of his wife Laurie he could not have done the job that has consumed his life since he was made redundant at 52.

That was way back when he was a long-distance lorry driver for Grand Metropolitan, the brewery company.

For many years Brian, from Failsworth, drove a dray wagon to local pubs and clubs for Wilson’s out of the Newton Heath Brewery.

Over the years the brewery changed hands and went through a series of metamorphoses, eventually becoming part of the giant Grand Met empire, by which time Brian was leaving his Failsworth home on a Monday and often not returning until Friday and, on occasions, Saturday mornings.

“The folk down south were supposed to give you a run that would take you back close to the Manchester base, somewhere like Fleetwood or Sheffield, but then they’d tell you it was East Kilbride. It was a long trek, let me tell you.”

He recounted those long-lost days with a smile and a wistfulness that suggested he enjoyed the days of the road.

“Oh yes,” he agreed, “They were good days — I enjoyed the job.”

Redundancy brought a reality check around the time that Laurie’s mother was becoming a patient at Dr Kershaw’s Hospice. Lillian Vaughan eventually died at the clinic but the link was forged and will never be broken.

Laurie and Brian agreed to help run the annual garden party — a vital indoor fundraiser — and they have been involved ever since.

In those early days the hospice had eight beds and a small day-care offering. Funding was mainly from the NHS, with contributions — the majority donations — making up the overheads shortfall.

Fundraising had not become mainstream at that time but during our chat the story evolved of how the emphasis on generating funds for Dr Kershaw’s became more and more a vital component of this most treasured of Oldham’s institutions.

We met in Oldham’s version of cafe culture at the Costa in Spindles, one of my favourite haunts, and enjoyed lattes and cappuccinos while Brian spoke to virtually every person who walked by.

And they all had a cheery wave and time for a chat for a man who has become synonymous with fundraising.

So, I eventually ventured after a myriad of stories and shared interests, usually involving holidays and alcoholic beverages, how did you end up in a job which is, after all, a calling and a huge departure from hauling beer, wine and spirits over long distances?

“Oh, that’s easy — I got roped in!” and he laughed out loud once again, the twinkle creating the laughter lines that distinguish this extraordinary man of the people.

And then he was serious: “I simply put together a business plan and presented it to Dr Kevin Moore, who was the medical director at the time, and so began a 14-year love affair.”

The running costs of the hospice are £4,000 a day — “so every £1, or £5 or £50 adds up. People can’t always give the same or raise the same but every pound, every penny, counts.”

He added: “The fact is that the people of Oldham are simply fantastic. I know people who have given me their last penny, businesses too have been incredibly supportive.”

Brian was also full of praise for the Oldham mayoralty pointing out that in his 14 years in post, 11 Oldham mayors have nominated Dr Kershaw’s as one of their chosen charities for financial support.

One of his early projects was to raise £15,000 to fund a desperately-needed new ambulance and conservatory extension.

Brian, being Brian, persuaded a local windows company to sponsor the extension and that resulted in a significant saving for the project.

Of all the memories of all the events, the dinners, the parties, the cheque presentation evenings that Brian will take into retirement, the people he met — the patients, the staff and volunteers and the fundraisers — will remain at the forefront of his recall.

“During my time at the hospice I have met some fabulous people, some real characters. The patients really help you get a perspective on life.

“Vera Smith was a rum one — she really brought the place to life. She used to have the children’s roundabout in Oldham town centre, and everyone knew Vera. What a lady, what a character.”

His voice trailed off, but he wasn’t sad, he wasn’t wallowing in melancholy. “Remember, not everyone who came into the hospice died, not everyone went out in a box, you know,” he told in that mild, self-effacing manner that has charmed money out of more people that you can shake a yellow box at...

All that money has been put to exceptional use. There are now 12 beds plus guest rooms where family can stay over and there are more lounges and extended day-care facilities. There is also a hair salon, an aromatherapy suite and the residents can enjoy a range of arts and crafts, be this painting or pottery.

Running costs for the hospice are now topping £1.7 million annually for with each capital programme success there comes the annual overhead.

There are 46 full-time staff and a further 280 volunteers who give up an average of three hours a week each to keep the hospice on an even keel. And I got the distinct impression that each was a personal friend, that they all share Brian’s belief in the hospice and all that it stands for and provides.

The volunteers are people who either spend time at the hospice, drive the ambulance or other forms of transport or maybe work in the four charity shops introduced by Brian, two in Shaw and the others in Royton and Lees. “These shops make a significant contribution as does the lottery, which has contributed around £1 million since being established.

“I can join myself now,” he joyously told me, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. “I couldn’t be in before for obvious reason, but I can join now.”

He may have retired but Dr Kershaw’s will forever remain a part of Brian’s life.




Martyn Meets resumes in September.