SNN August 2019 online

50 Years on or to Hell
in a Handbasket
Mark Thompson’s Story
My second life began late on
Easter Monday, 7 April 1969 in
a hot water pool at De Brett’s
Hotel, Taupo. I remember that
night as if it were last night.
I had driven by car with two friends,
Russell and Raylene, from Middlemarch
and Dunedin, to Masterton a week or
so before attending another friend’s
wedding to be held the weekend
after Easter. The first night was
spent on the overnight ferry from
Lyttelton and the next at Eketahuna.
On that last fateful day of my first
life, we’d had a few beers, having
left Waipukurau in the morning after
staying at the Tavistock. We travelled
through Hawke’s Bay (I had worked
there for a while so knew my way
around) and on to Taupo. We called
into De Brett’s, as I’d been there the
previous year, and had told Russell
and Raylene about the hot pools.
I recently returned there and found
many changes had been made, with
most done to make the operation
safer and less likely to be the scene of
accidents. But, in 1969, the premises
were fairly basic. I had been in one
pool for quite a while before sliding
over a wall into another one. After
a time, I climbed out and spotted
14
another mate (Bob) who had turned
up and he was in the first pool I had
been in, so I dived in beside him.
Alas, management had decided to
drain the pool for the night. There
was insufficient water remaining to
accommodate the depth of my dive.
As soon as my head touched the
bottom I knew what I had done—I had
had quite a lot to do with a mate from
home who was C5/6 after a car crash
so, for some reason, I immediately
thought of Phil (Phil Read 1948-2018).
Initially I was lying there face-down
happily drowning and Bob thought
I was just fooling around. After a
while, he thought I was taking too
long to come up for air and rolled
me over. Being heard, even when
shouting, after breaking one’s neck is
not easy—no one heard me say “don’t
move me”. Anyway, I was eventually
pushed to the steps at the side of the
pool and lay on the bottom step.
“
My family were very
supportive, once they
realised I wasn’t going
to just give up and go
away…. it does take a little
encouragement during the
adjustment stage of a new
life, starting from scratch.
Mark Thompson
Someone ran and phoned for help.
The good Dr Haldane asked if I was
moving and, when told I was not,
suggested I be brought into town to
his surgery. So I was picked up and
manfully seated upright in the back seat
of a car and driven to town. During this
journey, I passed out for some time,
only to be awakened by pain coming
from the top of my head — not to
worry, it was just the doctor sewing
up the gash there. I was transferred
by ambulance to Rotorua, where I
spent five days before my brother,
Graeme, with the help of Mr Bill Liddell
of 13B Christchurch Hospital Spinal
Ward, secured a flight on a small
plane from Rotorua to Christchurch.
Ironically, in Rotorua, I was admitted
to the bed where a day or two
before, Rob Porter had been for six
months or so and had been totally
mistreated. He was a great guy, who
had been working for the Department
of Agriculture. On a farm one day he
stepped backwards over a one-metre
bank and broke his neck. Sadly - mainly
due to his early treatment at Rotorua
- he did not live many more years.
When I awoke in hospital the following
morning, I felt as though I had been
buried in concrete. If I had been able
to reach the window and jump, I would
have. Strangely and, thankfully, that was
the only time I felt that way. I knew
what I had done and that a wheelchair
would be my lot. I would have to make
the most of it — just get on with it.
When I was discharged in November
The De Brett’s Hot Pool Taupo, 2018