Unforgivable Memories At St. Mary's, Broadstairs

A Memory of Broadstairs.

Maiden name Sandra Banbury.
As far as I know I was admitted to St Mary’s for convalescence following pneumonia, early fifties, and 4- 5 yrs old. Dr Fuller paid £4.4 s weekly, no idea for how long. He held a special place in his heart for me as I gather from the few times it was mentioned (within earshot) he saved my life.
My Mother and our neighbour took me there by coach. I was escorted to a communal bath area where I was brutally scrubbed, and recall my Mother peering through a window, tears cascading down her face, and then she was gone. Presents were sent which I was allowed to observe from a distance and told because of misbehaviour they would be taken away never to be seen again. An experience so traumatic was when I couldn’t swallow the fat, not meat, and vomited into the plate which was snatched away after a slap round my face and returned, vomit removed and force fed. Another defining experience occurred during the night when I needed to empty my bowels, I was dragged back to my bed (I wasn’t to disturb the privileged children) consequently not being able to control the urge a messy bed was inevitable. For this I was severely punished being denied a bucket and spade on the terrifying journey to the beach. Dr Fuller managed a couple of visits but wasn’t allowed past reception, I was to meet him there. I couldn’t get to him fast enough leaping into his safe arms thinking I was going home. He would have taken me if he knew the extent of the abuse. That day I was punished for running and denied bread and jam for tea. I believe without doubt that the defining
soul destroying cruelty left me with low self esteem and a fear of authority’s figures. However it gave me the ability to judge who to trust in an instant.
I still have in my possession an annual report 1952 consisting of 8 pages, writing of the generous donations from the parents of the privileged who were treated with respect and kindness (I WONDER WHY) on the back page is a form of bequest earnestly solicited to remember the charity by will.
In a strange way reading the accounts of some of the people unfortunate enough to have suffered like myself has given me a sense of relief as I have lived with the thought of being targeted. However on a daily basis something triggers the insane cruel memories, a crime to need the toilet. I have suffered with a severe bowel problem ever since.
When my father came to take me home the bond had been broken, I trusted no one.

Please do not disregard this account of my time at St Mary’s as it was soul destroying.

Sandra