Alan Matthews, Group MD, MPH
Sep 20 2010 by Chris Knox, The Journal
MOST people would agree that losing their sight would be one of the worst things that could happen to them, which makes it all the more surprising to hear that Alan Matthews considers himself a “very lucky man”.
Matthews, who lives with his wife Dee in Durham, heads Gateshead firm MPH, which employs 80 staff and helps companies reach people with disabilities through business-to-business training, guidance and communication.
It is his quite personal understanding of the needs of disability that is the heart of the business.
He had a happy childhood growing up in Jarrow in South Tyneside. But one day something happened which changed his life and effectively went on to end his childhood.
At the age of 12 he was shot in the side of the head with an air rifle. The dart destroyed his right eye and then penetrated his nose to cause considerable damage to his left eye.
“I always was a bit of a tinker and used to knock about in a gang, not like the gangs you get these days, but just a group of opposing lads and lasses,” he smiles, as he begins to recall the devastating incident.
“I wasn’t a thief or anything, but if there was mischief to be had, I would usually take the opportunity. I guess I was just unlucky that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. In fact, I still don’t believe that the person that shot me knew that the rifle was loaded.”
The resulting operation involved replacing his right eye with an artificial eye and breaking his cheekbone in order to locate the dart and repair the damage done to his left eye.
Although the incident proved understandably traumatic for Matthews, he found returning to school a much greater challenge.
“During my hospital treatment at the RVI, I was kept in a mens’ ward as there were no children’s facilities that handled my condition,” he says.
“I’d always associated with adults at a formative age and, with what happened to me and being surrounded by adults for such long time, I came out of hospital a changed person and it was really difficult to fit back into school.
“Also, kids by their nature can be cruel, which made coming to terms with my new disability even more of a challenge.”
It would be a while before Matthews got used to his condition, with much of his training involving a skill that most of us take for granted, pouring a glass of water.
“It just took me ages to get used to pouring the water as I was either too far to the right or over-compensating and pouring the water over to the left,” he says.
“However, I still didn’t see my condition as a tragic thing and just got on with things. Key moments in your life, the ones that change everything, can be things like getting married or having kids. It just so happens that my earliest was being shot.”
Problems at school led Matthews to run away from his parents at the age of 14, a decision that he admits could have been disastrous and one he still feels guilty about at the age of 57.
“I did that awful thing that some kids do to their families and I ran away from home,” he says.
“I went down to London and was involved in loads of jobs, including a lot of dishwashing and even a bit of busking as I had picked up the guitar during my time in hospital. I was having problems at school and I just didn’t know what I wanted to be.
“It may seem a bit early to be having these thoughts but like I say I had already been through a lot and I wanted to get on with my life.
“One thing I knew I didn’t want to do was get involved with the family plumbing business, so I ran off to London to find what was out there.”
He would soon fall on his feet after finding work in the dispatch department of department store Peter Robinson on the Strand, and it was during this time that he met some of his more colourful friends.
He says: “While I was living in London for three years I was living in a flat-share on Caledonian Road in Islington. During this time I was living with a frighteningly good-looking girl, who lived in the room above me and told me that she taught French lessons.
“I must have been far more naive than I gave myself credit for as I didn’t even take the hint when she told me that she advertised in phone boxes. I used to make tea for her ‘clients’ when they arrived in order to make a bit of money on the side. It still took someone else to tell me what she was up to.”
He would also become good friends with one of this country’s comic legends during his time at the store.
“Spike Milligan came into the store one day and we got chatting. Next thing I know, I’m invited to one of his parties,” Matthews says with a grin. “I was a bit cheeky back then and I think his devious side must have picked up on that. However, the party didn’t go as well as I had hoped after Spike turned around to me and told me to get lost. I don’t know what I said to him but it must have been something bad. But that was Spike all over. You never knew what kind of mood he would turn up in.
“Despite the knockback, I didn’t give up and would pester him all the time until he began writing to me through his agent Norma Farnes, who became a big sister to me. Spike would address me as “the boy” and ask her to check how “the boy” was doing.”