It is with great sadness that I report the death at the age of 63, of Thomas K Hodgson, Dispensing Optician of Rhyl, Denbighshire, after a brief but severe illness. It was my enormous privilege and great pleasure to work alongside Tom for only a few months short of 30 years.
Tom was a scouser by birth, but a proud Welshman by inclination. Although born in Liverpool to a Manx mother and a Cumbrian father, he moved to North Wales with the family when his father, who worked for Pilkington’s as it then was, relocated there to work in their St. Asaph facility.
Having trained as a Dispensing Optician in an independent practice in Rhyl, he worked for some time for Rayner’s in the town, before opening his own practice in May of 1978 at the age of 34.
Being a D.O., he needed an Optometrist, and I was introduced to him as a young practitioner of twenty four, by Derek Cox, a former director of Hamilton Optical Company. He and I hit it off immediately, and I have worked with him part-time since then, initially solely, but later along with Melvyn Hughes, another Optometrist.
Although optically well-matched, visually we made an odd combination, with him an elegant 6ft 2, and me at 5ft 4. When once I told one of his friends who shared our sense of humour that I looked up to Tom, Tom riposted with “well, you don’t have much choice do you?”
Tom was a man of great character (in both senses of that word), and of enormous principle and integrity. He was that very definition of a professional, that is, a man who put the welfare of his patients before the contents of his wallet. He never advertised his services, preferring to rely solely on personal recommendation for quality of goods and service.
He eschewed sales gimmicks and promotions, preferring to work “up to a standard, not down to price”
“Conversion rates” and “Sales per test” had no meaning for him, indeed there would be times when I would suggest to a patient that they might like to renew their spectacles, and, after the handover, Tom would, after consultation with the patient, conclude that it might not be appropriate for them at that point, and send the patient happily on their way.
He believed in the concept of serving his community, and had particular time for the elderly, who became the mainstay of his practice. He also had an interest in Low Vision work. Until the appalling disenfranchisement of Dispensing Opticians that followed deregulation and the reorganisation of the Health Service, Tom was on the Denbighshire Local Optical Committee.
In his younger days he was an active member of Round Table, and later the Forty One club and Rotary, often engaged in charitable work both locally and internationally
He was also very involved in raising funds for the H.M. Stanley, St. Asaph, Laser Fund, and also for Clatterbridge Hospital on the Wirral who got him through a potentially fatal illness in his late twenties/early thirties.
In recent years he became involved in local politics, becoming a Conservative County Councillor. He took this duty very seriously, and was dedicated to change, but found this a frustrating experience as he felt stymied by bureaucracy.
He was very much his own man, and when recent changes in optical legislation meant that, in order to continue as a Qualified Dispensing Optician he could no longer remain in practice as a sole trader, and would have to incorporate, he took the unusual step of deregistering as an act of protest against what he considered to be a restraint of trade.
If Tom’s name seems a little familiar to those of you outside of North Wales, then that will most likely to be due to an example of his principles that was played out on a more public stage:
Some years ago a major Optical retailer took out nationwide local newspaper adverts claiming that its’ prices were lower than its competitors, because said competitors were “hiding charges”.
The advert, disguised as investigative journalism, named individual practitioners that it accused of these practices, of whom Tom was one.
A number of such practitioners around the country considered legal action, but, when they assessed the financial risk, decided against. Tom was made of stronger stuff, and, although risking financial ruin if he lost, took successful action through the High Court.
He wished to make it plain that his actions were motivated not by greed, but by the desire to defend that which he valued the most, namely his good name and reputation, upon which he felt a value could not and should not be placed.
Consequently, although he probably could have named his price in terms of compensation, all he asked for (and got) was his costs and a prominent public retraction and apology both from the company and newspaper concerned.
As an honorary Welshman he was a great supporter of the Welsh National Rugby team, even supporting them through what Max Boyce wryly referred to as their ”indifferent period” of the 90’s. When Wales were beaten by the tiny Pacific community of Western Samoa, he could be heard bemoaning “My God, it wasn’t even the whole of Samoa, just the flippin’ Western bit!”
One of his most treasured memories was slipping out of a function room into the empty Stadium of Light in Cardiff, and deciding to check out the acoustics by launching into a solo Welsh Hymn. As the final notes reverberated around the stadium he was amazed to see, all around the stadium, huge TV screens flicker into life with pictures of the Welsh Flag, the Rugby team, and Tom. Peering into the distance, he made out a lone BBC engineer and camera man, thumbs aloft and grinning from ear to ear.
His favourite movie was “Zulu”, (a DVD of which I gave him for his final Christmas present which I hope he found the time to watch), mainly because of the scenes in which the Welsh singer Ivor Emmanuel, along with Michael Caine fends off the Zulu hordes, armed with little more than a rifle and a rousing rendition of “Men of Harlech”.
He was a good and enthusiastic cook, and a lover of good wines. Each Christmas, the present I would look forward to the most was the selection of fine wines he would choose for me. Typically, knowing that this Christmas was to be his last, he surpassed himself with his selection.
He was a keen fisherman, although in recent years found little time to indulge, and a useful gun at the local shoot of which, until recently, he was the captain. Only a few days before his death, although in very ill health, he was present at a shoot.
He was also a bit of an adventurer. In 1993, along with a team of Tablers and Rotarians, he took his own car, a Sierra 4x4, unmodified apart from special tyres and fog-lamps, on a gruelling rally across the Arctic Circle, raising money for charity. A year or two later he was co-driver in a friend’s Beaufort kit car on another rally across mainland Europe into Africa.
Due to previous health issues Tom realised last year that life was short, so last summer he treated himself to the car he’d always wanted, a Jag XK8R which, for a few short months was his pride and joy.
His last adventure, only a few months was ago was to turn up in the Jag, dressed as James Bond in full dinner dress, and abseil down the Sky Tower that dominates the Rhyl skyline to raise money for the local eye hospital’s Laser Fund
He was also an unrepentant smoker. He always knew that this would most likely lead to his demise, but was a great believer in the freedom of the individual to live their lives as they see fit, and very much against the “nanny state” mentality of current government. He knew the risks, and was fully prepared to accept and take responsibility for the consequences.
He had a wicked sense of humour right up to the last, an example of which was related to me on the morning following his passing. Only a few days before, a local trader, unaware of Tom’s condition which by that time was advanced and untreatable, was chatting to Tom in the street, where he had gone for a “fag break”.
At the end of their chat, Tom stubbed out his cigarette with the words, “You know, I really must give these things up. They’ll be the death of me one day”. Apparently this was said with a wry smile, the recipient of this mordant wit only realising that he’d been “had” upon me telling him of Tom’s passing. It’s a truly great and confident humorist who can crack a self-deprecating joke, knowing the punch-line won’t be appreciated until after he’s gone. His speeches in Council meetings were noted for their witty apercus, which were funny and insightful, often puncturing political hypocrisy, but never cruel.
He had a great ability to analyse complex issues and break them down to their bare essentials, and was a great communicator, an essential for successful optical practice.
Tom always knew that the secret of good comedy, and a good life, was timing, and Tom checked out of his as he would have wished, in his armchair, his family with him, savouring a glass of good red wine. In life, as in business quality over quantity was his priority.
I learnt a great deal from Tom for which I’m very grateful, and I am a better person and a better practitioner for having known him. I have lost a good friend, colleague, and mentor, the profession has lost a committed professional, and his family have lost a loving supporter, father and grandfather.
Tom was loved by family, friends and patients alike, and, as Philip Larkin wrote, “At the end, all there is left of us is love.” That is as good an epitaph as I can think of for this very special man.
His wife having died some years ago, Tom is survived by his daughter Gaynor and her husband, his grandchild Rosie, and his life partner and manager Susan.,
David Rushbrooke B.Sc. F.C.Optom
Anyone wishing to mark Tom’s passing is asked to donate to the H.M.Stanley Hospital Laser Fund, or the Clatterbridge Cancer Research Gene Fund.