Just came across this while clearing out stuff. One of the saddest things I ever came across while working in Transport For London's Passes & Permits, issuing retirement passes. Probably demonstrative of dementia of some kind, but tragic none the less. And all the more so because this was all written to a faceless functionary who has asked for some documentation. As I say, customer service gets to you eventually


14 June 1996
Permits and Passes

Dear Sir,

I am in receipt of your letter...wherein a photograph was requested...
In my case this is not easy to come by I am kept a virtual prisoner by neighbours... thieves, thugs who have me disabled, alone, widowed of course, and in a sorry state battling with the ruling forces, in sussex, that nobody care tuppence about any other person, nor of me...
All our papers, documents taken, years ago, here, and all photographs, family pictures of 70 years, and even subsequent pictures of family, those in Australia and St. Annes Lancashire, Carol in Manchester, were to be taken, and kept years some returned be deceit, how the professionals get into my house I do not know, by hypnosis I presume, it is the only way, I live with terrorism...
I have written to Neil McMillan, family, he took a snap of me, the last, a year ago, I await his reply, I know of no callers who have a camera, my Henry had three, but like our home, and all our goods and chattels, were taken,pinched, I never dreamed that retirement was if jail, persecution, and thieving neighbours, friends...
The ladies in my house, after I came home from hospital, are too on the make, take...
Any ladies contemplating retirement top the country from dear old dirty London...is don't... don't even consider it.

Bear with me sir, I shall do my best,

Your sincerely



We are not free. The loners, abused, used and terrified, tortured, live under Gestapo rules here.. Houses taken, husband, dare I say, and robbed until one almost despairs, but never giving up, I fight for rights, privacy, we live violated and scared.

The other day I ran into a report from a chap at the embassy in [redacted] who'd been to visit a fellow citizen who'd been condemned to death by the local judicial system. Our-man-in said this guy was being kept in a squalid little cell with 30 other guys and had only been allowed this exceptional consular visit with the proviso that he was watched and restrained throughout. Unsurprisingly he was pretty depressed, and just wanted the appeal to be over as soon as possible, whatever the result. The last thing he said before the visit was up was a request to tell his wife and kids that he was doing absolutely fine and there were no problems. Impressive guy.

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I'm not sure that imagining you're being persecuted isn't sadder than really being persecuted.

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Standard disclaimer: the disgusting statements contained in this post are the views of the poster, and unless specified do not represent the views of the moderators or the site's owners.

Given expose's subsequently about the way care home staff treat their residents, it may not have been that far fetched. And whether completely sane or not, it is still a tragic thing to see that desperation, expressed to a stranger.

Yes. The two stories don't cancel each others. They tap into different emotional wells.

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