My friend Ray Rowden, who has died of pancreatitis aged 62, was one of the most influential and colourful characters in nursing, as the profession found its voice at the end of the last century.
Ray left school with no qualifications and worked as a painter and decorator in his home town of Whitstable, Kent. In 1970, he began training as a mental health nurse at St Augustine’s hospital, Canterbury, where he helped expose scandalously inadequate care, and prompted an inquiry.
He continued to challenge the establishment, even after he had risen in its ranks. In 1989 he became the first chief executive of the West Lambeth Community Care NHS trust (now part of the South London and Maudsley NHS trust), and was one of the first openly gay NHS leaders.
A great innovator, Ray put his boundless energy at the service of vulnerable, minority groups and people in trouble. He developed culturally aware programmes for black mental health service users, brought ballet and other dance forms into the lives of hospital patients and gained a reputation for providing mentorship and a helping hand to nurses and managers facing difficulties.
In his spare time he would round up a team of friends to take wheelchair users to Covent Garden for the opera and ballet. He even persuaded the Croydon Advertiser newspaper to appoint him its ballet correspondent so that he could get hold of tickets more easily.
Ray’s advocacy skills and enterprise were spotted by the Institute of Health Services Management, which appointed him director in 1993. This was followed by two years at the Department of Health, as director of commissioning for high-security psychiatric services, before he set forth on a successful consultancy career. At heart, though, Ray was always a nurse. One of his proudest moments came when, in 2013, he was made a fellow of the Royal College of Nursing.
By this time he had moved to Spain with his partner, Tom, to run a popular restaurant in the mountain town of Cómpeta, Andalucía. He continued ad hoc consultancy work while throwing himself into the local community, introducing pantomime to bemused Spaniards and raising funds for local charities. Ray lived life to the full. He was never far from a glass of champagne and knew how to party.
He is survived by Tom, and by his daughters, Helen and Elizabeth, from a previous relationship.
