The physician with music in his soul

The physician with music in his soul

Many foreigners have chosen to make Thailand their home over the years and some go on to embrace the kingdom in such a manner that their contributions to the country will never be forgotten. One such person was British doctor Patrick (Paddy) Dickson who sadly died last week following a heart attack at the age of 92.

"Paddy" as everyone knew him, loved Thailand since he first set foot in the kingdom back in 1958 and established himself as a popular figure, not just with the British community but also the many Thais he helped through his work at the British Dispensary. He quickly became proficient in the Thai language and his pleasant, relaxed personality made him an ideal family doctor.

He was also never shy to give an impromptu performance on the piano.

Born in 1929, Paddy experienced a remarkable life and there is not enough space to do him justice. In 1940 while in London he narrowly survived a German bombing raid during the Blitz when an adjacent office suffered a direct hit and he had to be dug out from under the stairs by rescue teams.

He later went to Cambridge University where he graduated in medicine from Clare College. A gifted pianist he played at the university's famous Footlights Dramatic Club. He went on to spend two years as a Flying Officer in the Royal Air Force. In 1950 he became a medical student at St Thomas' Hospital.

Paddy met his wife Chalermsri "Poo" in Cambridge back in 1954 and they married two years later. Paddy said the first time he saw her "she was so attractive she took my breath away". They raised two lovely daughters, Fiona and Caroline.

The doctor's doctor

Unlike many British expats, my introduction to Paddy was not through his medical expertise, but his piano skills.

Shortly after arriving in Bangkok I came down with hepatitis and as I didn't know any doctors a friend recommended Dr Einar Ammundsen who worked at the British Dispensary on New Road. The Danish physician looked after me very well and so became my regular doctor rather than Paddy.

A few years ago at a British Club "golden oldies" gathering, I was explaining almost apologetically to Paddy how I became a patient of Dr Ammundsen rather than his good self. Paddy laughed and said "that means we had the same doctor". It turned out that if he felt under the weather Paddy would consult Dr Ammundsen.

Tickling the ivories

I first came across Paddy playing piano in the mid- 1970s at the Napoleon lounge on Patpong which held Dixieland Jazz sessions on Sunday afternoons. One of the band leaders was Paddy's best friend, Australian military attache Lachie Thomson, an accomplished clarinettist. Paddy was often given a solo spot where he would play soulful blues piano with a passion which prompted warm applause. He also performed regularly at the annual Ploenchit Fair at the British embassy.

One wonders if the contentment and inner peace Paddy enjoyed from the piano could well have played a significant role in him becoming such an approachable doctor.

The last time I saw Paddy play was at a function for long-time residents at a Bangkok hotel a few years ago. During a break Paddy discovered a piano and launched into a couple of his favourite blues numbers with the same passion as when I first saw him 40 years earlier.

Musical farewell

At the cremation last Monday, as family and friends gathered in the sala to bid farewell to Paddy, it seemed appropriate that a saxophonist played the beautiful strains of one of Paddy's favourite songs, There Will Never Be Another You.

Paddy's son-in-law Dominic Faulder spoke for everyone in his eulogy when he said "we should celebrate a long and exceptionally well lived life that generated so much happiness and so many genuinely good times." RIP Paddy.

The piano teacher

I have always been envious of anyone accomplished at the piano because it must be so therapeutic. It remains my favourite instrument, especially in a jazz context. I even had lessons as a kid but abandoned them after a year, a decision that I still regret. I just didn't have the patience or skills to master minuets and the like.

I sympathized with my piano teacher, however. Trying to teach me couldn't have been much fun. Just imagine having to sit through all those wrong notes week after week. It must have been absolute torture.

Pet sounds

Being a piano teacher can be a thankless task and they have shared their experiences on the internet. One teacher found herself giving lessons in a house full of pets and had to put up with dogs and cats scrambling over the keyboard in the midst of the lessons. There are assorted tales of kids getting so nervous they piddled in their pants during lessons.

There are probably also piano teachers in Thailand with a few tales to tell.


Contact PostScript via email at oldcrutch@hotmail.com

Roger Crutchley

Bangkok Post columnist

A long time popular Bangkok Post columnist. In 1994 he won the Ayumongkol Literary Award. For many years he was Sports Editor at the Bangkok Post.

Email : oldcrutch@gmail.com

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