DETACHMENT

Circa 1930, Harold Renaud became domiciled in Cape Town. A diminutive man (five feet and two inches in height), he was nevertheless a well built, robust young man full of a zest for life. Having recently married a delightfully talented musician, Cape Town became for the couple a splendid cultural centre in which opportunity beckoned both for Harold and Isolde, the wife, who identified it as an ideal city in which they could live out their dreams. He was embarking on a career in the field of finance and focused on gaining experience with a view to climbing the corporate ladder, she was concentrating on building on a licentiate in pianoforte performance and grasping all opportunities as a concert pianist that the fair city, hub of culture in the recently established Union of South Africa, could offer. Both fledgling careers held much promise for the two astute and talented young folk with incisive minds. 

Satisfied with the rich and beautiful surroundings, the magnificent Table Mountain enfolding them, they settled into a small apartment adjacent to one of the majestic houses that exuded opulence in upper Kloof Street. Their own accommodation was sparse, intellectuals and impresarios not given to the worship of material things, but extracting every ounce of joy from entertaining audiences with perfect renditions of eloquent compositions, and in Harold’s case, putting his superior business acumen to exquisite use as a mastermind behind successful banking and investment decisions in the interests of a growing economy. He became a highly valued employee of Barclays Bank (DCO – Dominion, Colonial and Overseas as it was registered in those days). Their own Spartan existence in accommodation alongside the steep road leading to Table Mountain’s recently built cableway, belied the contribution these two gregarious folk were making, happily leading their academically and culturally rich lives. For Isolde it was sufficient to have a baby grand piano in the flat on which she could while away any time she had to hone her incredible skills, her slender manicured fingers flitting across the keys with dexterity. Harold, meanwhile, reclined in a deep armchair, surrounded by books, articles and other papers of interest to him – reading and acquiring knowledge offering much joy. 

Early each morning, Harold would rise, consume a light breakfast and trundle into the central business district of Cape Town. His first port of call would be a Jujitsu Dojo where he would put his small frame to work honing the technical skills of a martial art brought to South Africa in 1928 by Yusei Teppi and Dr H Johnson, who had established a teaching dojo in the city bowl (Thomson, 2016). The hour and a half spent there would set the tone for the day – reinvigorating the body with exercise, a cold shower and readiness for the mind to dictate the rest of the working day, and make a meaningful contribution to an economy coming to terms with the new reality of the Great Depression that was licking at South Africa’s shores. The martial art appealed to Harold particularly, because it was so heavily reliant on technique, skill and the sharpness of the mind, and not dependent on the size of one’s physical frame. Jujitsu is an art form that demands the mastery of space and overpowering an opponent by exploiting misuse of his centre of gravity and over emphasis on physical power. It is the ideal skill for one with a lesser frame, but sharp mental capacity combined with agility.

Well-liked at the recently constructed corporate headquarters of Barclays (DCO) in Adderley Street, Harold would make his way up the elevator to his office in the elegant building designed by Sir Herbert Baker as one of his last South African majestic edifices. There he would readily engage with staff in small talk, much banter and then turn to the serious issues of the day. In the corporate meetings he would present ideas, grapple with the opinions that others brought to the table and make a well received contribution to the wellbeing of the banking business. A strength of his management style was to surround himself with people who disagreed with him. “Yes men” were a bane of his career, as they failed to challenge the intellect and were loathe to point out mistakes which could in the long run cost a manager and company dearly. Disagreements were regular occurrences, but respect and politeness were over-arching and no offence was taken. A strong corporate philosophy was followed which placed a premium on independent thought and lateral, out-of-the-box type engagement with issues.

Lunch-time would be sacrosanct in Harold’s office. He insisted that not only he, but all his staff leave their desks and the building for the full duration of the break. His firmly held belief was that a rested mind was far more productive than that of a worker plodding away endlessly without a change of perspective. For his part he would trundle to the Civil Service Club (founded in 1858) in a gorgeous building near the Company Gardens and Law Courts in the city. He would enjoy a scrumptious lunch in the ornate and elegant dining room. Always sartorially well-appointed in a three piece suit with matching shirt and tie and exquisitely buffed shoes, he was the perfect fit in the environs of a “gentlemen’s club” of such style and panache. After lunch it was customary for him to repose in a fine leather armchair in the cigar lounge where he would puff on a Cuban cigar rolled in Havana and imported to South Africa for the well heeled connoisseurs of fine tobacco. 

Back in the office for the afternoon, Harold was in fine form – calling the shots in the field of investment banking. The trip home he used to conjure up thoughts of profitable undertakings in various stages of planning in his agile mind. At home, he and Isolde would ready themselves for evenings in the theatres and music venues where she would enthrall one and all with her renditions of masterpieces of old. The couple would mingle with like-minded cultural buffs of their ilk. 

Their lives held much promise and were fulfilling in every way. Walks along the Woodstock beach promenade and a visit to the Woodstock Pier on weekends was standard relaxation over weekends for the couple. Cape Town had a leisurely air about it in those days. It offered much in the line of culture as well as enterprise, but lacked the frenetic pace of the industrial heartland of Johannesburg. The balance suited the Renaud’s.

1935 brought an unexpected twist and a set of problems which were to upend the blissful existence of an increasingly popular concert pianist and a Banking genius ascending the corporate ladder apace.

Harold began to experience “floaters” in his field of vision – tiny specks drifting past inexplicably and irritatingly. These were later to be accompanied by flashes of light, occasional blurred vision and shadows over the visual field.  At first he put it down to robust activity at the Jujitsu dojo and, perhaps, too much intense reading – especially the reports containing vast numbers of statistical figures and calculations. An odd experience. Ever more alarming as his expectation that the phenomenon would dissipate over time, were soon dispelled.

Etched in Harold’s memory would be the Christmas Day Fire on Devil’s Peak in 1935. It was after Boxing day that year that his world would begin to crumble on the first day back at the office. He was, once again, reading through his official documents when his vision blurred altogether and all he could make out on the page was a jumble of imperceptibly blurred images. Looking up from his papers, the office was entirely enveloped in visual fog. In the corridors his colleagues and staff resembled ghostly apparitions floating past as unrecognisable forms.

Harold had suffered a retinal detachment in both eyes. That Christmas in 1935 was the last he would view the world as others do. The ability to correct this particular visual aberration was not yet available in South Africa. Reattachment of the retinal membrane was still in the research and development stage in some of the advanced quarters of medical science, and even those leading specialists could not guarantee much success. Occasionally they were able to restore a modicum of sight. Harold’s vision had been reduced to ten percent of normal at best. He was functionally blind just as he was beginning to succeed exponentially in the world of banking. 

Harold’s intellect was intact and he could continue to play a useful role at his institution. However, in the 1930’s few businesses were geared for dealing with disability of any sort. The retinal detachment sadly began social detachment and alienation in the field of employment. He mercifully continued to be employed by Barclays (DCO), but would rise no further up the ranks and was stunted in the contribution he could make as a genius in financial management. Somehow, a disability in a single aspect of his life caused the beginning of his disconnection from the world of movers and shakers. It would take many decades before disability began to be accommodated as society grappled with the need to promote fulfilling lives, and benefit from the enormous contribution the disabled could make to society. If given a fair shot at it and if minor adjustments were made to their working and social environment, they have much to offer.

As a husband he was a phenomenal supporter of his concert pianist wife. Isolde, who lived close to a brilliant intellect that she could appreciate and notice, made extensive use of his fine insight and sharp and acute mind, and both were mercifully able to continue to extract joy from that which was in their purview. 

The day that the world discovers that it is vital for the richness of existence to play to people’s strengths, rather than unfairly punish disability, society will advance by leaps and bounds. Detachment from the woof and warp of the tapestry of life should not be the destiny of those with niche abilities. Ease of integration and access to that which is taken for granted by the bulk of humanity, is a noble destination that has been neglected far too long.

 

                                                                                                                            (Mayo Clinic, 2020)

References:

Mayo Clinic. (2020, August 28). Mayoclinic.org. Retrieved from Diseases-conditions: https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/retinal-detachment/symptoms-causes/syc-20351344

Thomson, T. (2016, January 23). Gojukan Dojo. Retrieved from Gojukandojo.com: www.gojukandojo.com/article/6/history-of-jujitsu-in-south-africa

©Paul M Haupt