Throughout my life, I have had the privilege of living in a household with both my parents and grandparents.

During this period, I have been fortunate to hear my grandparents recount stories from their childhoods. Both my grandmother and grandfather, whom I affectionately refer to as my nan and bampa, grew up both before and after the establishment of the National Health Service (NHS). I wish to share some of these anecdotes with you today.

My nan was born on November 5th, 1935, in Briton Ferry, South Wales. As one of four daughters, she had a father who dedicated his entire career to engineering, while her mother remained at home to care for the children. She was attended to hand and foot by an adoring mother, and her father ensured that there was always food on the table and a gift for each daughter at Christmas.

At the age of four, she began to develop a back issue that necessitated her mother taking her to “the clinic.” This clinic was a group of physicians who provided free, on-demand medical care to the local community, often operating from their own residences and offering walk-in appointments throughout the day.

What struck me profoundly was the existence of a prototype of the NHS prior to its official inception. Doctors went above and beyond to offer care to the community at no charge. My nan recalls that one doctor would give the children a sixpence each time they visited the clinic. I could not help but feel a sense of pride in how, even during the peak of World War II, the Welsh spirit of community remained alive and well, as it continues to do today. It is rather fitting that it was Nye Bevan, a fellow Welshman, who would be the one to bring Beveridge’s writings to fruition.

My bampa was born on February 22nd, 1936, also in Briton Ferry, South Wales. As the youngest of three boys, until his youngest brother arrived twelve years later, he had a father who also worked as an engineer. His mother, my beloved great-grandmother, with whom I had the privilege of residing until her passing at the age of ninety-nine, remained at home to care for my bampa and his brothers.

If my nan’s life represented the stereotypical childhood for anyone fortunate enough to live “well-off,” my bampa’s experience was entirely the opposite. At the age of four, he could often be found climbing trees to pick apples. If he succeeded, he would obtain a sweet treat; if he did not, he would go without food for the day.

During one of his fruit heists, my bampa fell from a branch suspended eight feet in the air. Landing directly on his back, he found himself unable to move. His older brothers had to carry him, a difficult task as his second-oldest brother was born with the use of only one arm. My great-grandmother wrapped him in a shawl and took him to the aforementioned “clinic.”

My bampa was treated by one of the local doctors, who applied what can only be described as wallpaper paste to his back to maintain his posture. He would then go home, live with his paste-covered back for a week, only to return to have it removed, whereby the process would begin anew. This continued for an additional twelve months.

All of this, of course, was free at the point of use.

Hearing both grandparents discuss their experiences with a pre-NHS healthcare system, it became evident to me that while the NHS would not be established for another six years, the spirit that guided its creation was indeed alive and well in the South Wales valleys.

As Bevan was once quoted as having said: “No society can legitimately call itself civilised if a sick person is denied medical aid because of a lack of means.”

* Jack Meredith is a member of the Welsh Liberal Democrats and an active campaigner and canvasser with Swansea and Gower Liberal Democrats. His writing focuses on democratic reform, social justice, trade unionism, economic democracy, and the institutional foundations of effective government. He has written for the Fabians, Lib Dem Voice, Liberator, Nation Cymru, Bylines Cymru, and Centre Think Tank.