I first met Dr David Picou, Emeritus Professor of Experimental Medicine at UWI and the holder of a Chaconia Gold, in 1978. I had been appointed Lecturer in Child Health at the UWI Eastern Caribbean Medical Scheme, Port-of-Spain General Hospital (PoSGH), and it was suggested I go up to Piarco to transport members of the Faculty of Medical Sciences, Mona, who were overnighting in town on their way back to Jamaica from the annual Caribbean Commonwealth Medical Research Council (CCMRC) meeting, which had been held in Guyana that year.
As the lecturers exited customs, it quickly became apparent who was in charge, for here was this small, slender Chinese guy, clipboard in hand, busily organising everyone, quietly putting people in contact with others and telling people where to go. He was in charge and everyone knew it, not because he was the professor or more assertive or stronger than the others, David was in charge because that was what he did, that was what he was, an organiser, and everyone, professors, lecturers, secretaries, accepted that he was the main man. He was a natural for this.
The next time I saw him was in Barbados at the annual medical research meeting, which took place in a different island each year, another Picou idea. For years, David organised and ran those meetings from the late 1950s to 2002 and, in fact, was the first director of the Caribbean Health Research Council (CHRC) when the CCMRC morphed into this new entity.
Not many people know but he essentially built the Eric Williams Medical Science Complex. Before him, it was meandering along the Trinidad way. It was he and the administrative team he created from scratch who took control in 1980 and got what was an idea in the minds of others, moving. In this, he was quite unlike most Trinidadians, he was a doer, a leader in the quietest way possible, never blowing his trumpet, just getting things done with the minimum of fuss and making friends along the way.
He was incredibly detailed and once told me that before actual construction of the complex began, he had “walked” through the architectural blueprints, following every corridor and opening every door to make sure it opened in the correct direction so as not to interfere with the flow of traffic, wheelchairs, beds, etc. All this years before the buildings were built.
David was also the first Trini paediatrician. He graduated from one of the best-known American paediatric hospitals, the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP), in 1955 and although he never practiced as a paediatrician, he never forgot his beginnings among children and did most of his research for them.
David was born on Charlotte Street, Port-of-Spain, where Renegades panyard is now located and grew up in the days when downtown was the centre of Carnival. Pan and Carnival was in his blood. He and I and our respective wives played together in Poison for many years in the company of his good partner, Prof Max Richards and his wife.
Calypso was also a favourite. Medical exams at the Port-of-Spain Hospital in the 70s and 80s often coincided with the calypso tent season. After a busy day of exams, he often invited all of the examiners to go to Shadow’s tent on Henry Street, around the corner from the hospital.
Another favourite pastime of his was the get-together at his house after exams were completed with his good friend from Barbados Micky Waldron, Professor of Surgery, the man who persuaded me to return home to join UWI, and other lecturers from up the islands. David was the consummate West Indian, understanding the crucial role of UWI in bringing us all together.
The last time I saw him in my office, he was visiting my daughter for a hearing problem. He was in a wheelchair and not very communicative but he had the same huge, beaming, cheerful smile and gentle manner.
The idea that his last moments were not the best because of the attitude of some of the workers on the ward at EWMSC, the complex that he built, is nauseating. David was such a gentle person. Always accommodating and helpful. He did not deserve this.
We always seem to be looking for heroes in T&T. We seem to concentrate on sporting and cultural heroes. Here is another hero, a medical man who put T&T on the medical map and built EWMSC, yet there is nothing to remember him by there, not a ward or a building named after him, not even a picture at the entrance.
I was always against naming the Children’s Hospital after a beauty queen, one who has done nothing for it since then. It’s time we changed its name to the David Picou Children’s Hospital.
