Platform 1
PAUL BIGLAND pays a visit to the Platform 1 mental health charity at Huddersfield station
PAUL BIGLAND learns about the sterling work being carried out by the Platform 1 mental health charity at Huddersfield station.
If you’ve ever travelled from Huddersfield to Manchester by train, you may have noticed an old BR coach half-hidden by fencing just as you pull out of the station. Once home to the Association of Community Rail Partnerships (ACoRP, now Community Rail Network), the site has had a new occupant since 2018. It too is about community, but the services it offers are very, very different…
The compound is now the base for Platform 1 - a mental health and crisis charity that specialises in helping men. As the banner over the entrance to the yard proclaims, it’s a place where men can “fix, grow, build or chill”.
As anyone who’s ever had to engage with Mental Health services will know, it’s a ‘cinderella’ arm of the NHS. And men especially can find themselves unable to find the help and support they need - hence the importance of charities such as Platform 1.
Having talked to the charity’s Project Manager Bob Morse on the phone a couple of times, I arranged to visit the yard to see the work that the group is doing, and to talk about how the pandemic and lockdown has affected them and the people they help.
Bob greets me at the entrance to the site, adjacent to the Head of Steam pub. It’s very eerie to see the Grade 1-listed station so quiet nowadays. A station with a footfall of 4.7 million a year is reduced to a virtual ghost town.
Bumping elbows in greeting and wearing facemasks, he gives me a tour of the site, which contains a ramshackle mixture of second-hand portable buildings, a shipping container, raised vegetable beds, and bicycles… lots and lots of bicycles!
Our first stop is at a tiny two-roomed building that’s used for interviews with people who want to be able to talk privately about the problems they’re experiencing.
As access to the site is by appointment only due to COVID-19, it is virtually deserted except for staff and volunteers - as is the old coach where we sit for a (socially distanced) coffee and chat.
It is lined with wooden planking and fitted with a small kitchen, and its walls feature old hubcaps that have been decorated by a local artist who visits the project. The coach is ‘cosy’, but as the Mk 1 is now on its third incarnation it’s seen better days…
Bob explains that pre-pandemic, there might have been 30 men a day using the vehicle as a refuge where they could chat, read, play computer games, drink tea, or just enjoy the company of other people.
“No one who comes here is judged,” he says. “This is neutral ground - they can leave their problems at the gate and be themselves while they’re here. There are no expectations of them. You’d be surprised at the way guys from different backgrounds and educations mix and treat each other.”
I ask how the pandemic has affected the charity. He replies: “The need for our services has exploded as people’s isolation has grown. There’s a ticking time-bomb of mental health issues out there that’s mostly hidden.”
Previously, Bob had mentioned that they had 14 clients on ‘suicide watch’ (where volunteers make regular contact with the men involved).
“There’s 15 right now, and we lost one last week,” he says.
It’s a horrific statistic, but it’s clearly only the tip of the iceberg. As well as providing a safe space, the charity offers counselling and help with what seem like simple things, but to people under pressure they can appear mountainous.
Bob explains: “We help a lot of people make and keep hospital or other appointments. Some clients aren’t computer-literate or don’t have phones. Others can’t understand why they have to wait so long to see someone and that an appointment doesn’t always mean they’ll get the help they need in the time they need it, which means they just give up. How do you explain to a man who can’t see past tomorrow that they’ll have to wait weeks to see someone?”
COVID-19 has magnified the problem. Many ‘contacts’ with social and health services aren’t in person, but by phone, which increases misunderstandings and feelings of isolation.
Because of this, Bob and his team are spending more time reaching out to people who can’t just drop in anymore. This outreach work is a mix of phone calls, ‘Zoom’ and home visits, as well as looking out for the homeless, a phenomenon that’s grown in the austerity years.
The sheer variety of their work causes me to ask if they are seeing different types of people now?
“Yes, we’re counselling more and more people who work in the Health Services, including women. We’re also getting more referrals from primary care networks, not just people coming in off the street.”
The charity is recruiting new volunteers to cope with the demand. And while it does receive donations and assistance from local