By Tony Best

It was an extremely difficult phone call to make.

But in the public interest it had to be done. Stated simply it was to find out how the nation’s leader, David Thompson, was coping with the after-effects of chemotherapy, the toll it was taking on his body as he battled the ravages of pancreatic cancer at the New York Presbyterian Hospital/ Weil Medical Center in Manhattan, one of America’s finest medical facilities.

With rumors swirling around that he was dying and that arrangements were being made to fly him back home immediately on a private plane so that he would spend his last days in his homeland, it was important that the public be informed about his true condition.

On previous occasions, perhaps as often as twice weekly, calls would be made to his room and his wife, Mara Thompson, would answer the phone and in a soft-spoken voice, she would indicate that he was either “resting comfortable” or “doing okay.” On one occasion she went beyond that explanation and said that he had walked down the corridor of the floor, an indication that his condition was improving.

So, it came as something of a surprise when the clearly identifiable voice at the other end of the line was that of Thompson, who greeted the caller warmly, asked how he was doing and then settled in to what was to be the last conversation between two people who had known and respected each other since the late 1970s.

Thompson quickly gave an assurance he was feeling much better and was preparing to return to Barbados for a short while, with a plan to come back to the City for more treatment and for what most Barbadians were praying would be life-saving medical care.

The trouble was, he said, he first had to receive the permission of the physicians before he could attempt to undergo the rigors of an extended flight of about four hours to Barbados. Apparently, the green light was given shortly afterwards and he was back in the country in less than 10 hours.

But out of the blue, he made a promise which the caller somehow didn’t expect him to able to keep. No, it wasn’t that he was deliberately misleading anyone. Not at all. Instead, it was that somehow he was putting his faith in God that the prayers of hundreds of thousands of Bajans at home and abroad would lead to a full recovery, or at the very least an acceptable quality of life and therefore, he wanted Bajans to benefit from his personal tragedy. 

But given the gravity of his conditions, the caller didn’t believe he would be able to talk about his illness at a later date.

“This is a promise I had made to you,” Thompson said. “I am going to give you an exclusive interview because I want to talk about this situation. I promise that I will do it either here (New York) or there (Barbados) because I hope that Barbadians may learn something from it. It may be helpful to our health service back home. That’s my hope and I intend to do it.”

The commitment had been made a few weeks earlier and quite frankly had been pushed aside because of the serious nature of Thompson’s illness. Just as important, it was necessary avoid any appearance that such a critical juncture, there was a desire to capitalize on his sickness.

But the conversation didn’t end there. The Prime Minister briefly traced the professional relationship the two had shared over the years, going back to his days as a student at Combermere School where he was head-boy and he seemingly went out of his way to mention Mr. Charlie Pilgrim, a headmaster of the famous school, a person he obviously highly respected and greatly admired. It seemed as if he wanted the caller to know that his mind was in high gear, even if his body was traveling at a different and far slower speed.

“I always told my ministers that they didn’t have to worry about you,” he added. “I told them that you would be fair and accurate in your work and that’s all we could ask.”

He switched the conversation again, this time focusing on his wife.

“I hope you understand that when you called and she answered in the way she did that you recognize the role she is playing,” he went on. “She just wanted to ensure that I get the needed rest. In a way she was the gatekeeper. “

“Yes,” he was told, the “gate-keeper role was appropriate and understandable and she handled it well.”

The brief conversation reflected the nature of the man. There he was gravely ill and his first thoughts were of the way Barbados and its health care system could somehow benefit from his illness.

It told a poignant story about his humanity, which may turn out to be a lasting legacy of his abbreviated tenure as Prime Minister. For if there was one thing most people, supporters and critics alike agree on, it was that his humane character, always thinking about others but