27/03/2026
D-tox was started by my Dad, Roy, back in 1993.
At the time I was finishing university and had my sights set on becoming an airline pilot. It sounded like a glamorous life back then.
My dad had spent his whole career in the steel trade running his own businesses. Like most businesses there had been plenty of ups and downs, and he had decided it was time to retire.
The problem was he got bored.
While chatting to an old friend in the crane hire business in Telford he heard about something new they had started renting… portable toilets.
It was a growth industry at the time. Portable toilets had only really started appearing in the UK in the late 1980s, so by the early 90s there was still plenty of opportunity.
So Dad decided to start D-tox.
While I was finishing my final year at university he began trying to raise some funds to get going.
For my 21st birthday he had bought me a car. A black Toyota MR2, the Mark 2 for those who are interested. I absolutely loved it.
But when I saw him selling things to raise money for the business, I gave the car back.
He didn’t want to take it. It was a 21st birthday present.
But I told him the truth. There was no pleasure in driving that car knowing he needed the money to get started.
So the car was sold and he told me I was now a partner in the business. Not that being a partner meant much to a twenty one year old.
Around the same time the British Airways pilot training application I had been pursuing reached its conclusion.
I had made it to the final interview stage. From around 40,000 applicants down to roughly the final 600.
And then I got rejected.
Looking back it wasn’t as bad a rejection as it felt at the time.
I went home planning to spend the summer doing very little after three years at university.
My dad had other ideas.
He made me go out with him servicing toilets.
I honestly can’t remember how many we had at the time. Maybe around 60 units. But they kept us busy.
And we argued constantly.
About everything.
How to clean the toilets.
Which order to do the jobs.
How to load the van.
And once we had a full blown argument because I bought a black bucket when he insisted it should have been red because they were the company colours.
We were very different.
Sometimes he was right.
Sometimes I was right.
For example I pushed hard for us to build a website very early on. He thought it was a complete waste of money.
I think we know who won that one.
But he was right about an awful lot of things too.
He taught me that hard work and persistence matter more than clever ideas.
And he cared deeply about what we were doing, even if it was just cleaning portable toilets.
I still remember he used to polish the toilet seats with Pledge.
I never really saw the point of it, and if I’m honest I still don’t. That caused a few arguments as well.
But eventually I understood what he was really doing.
He was setting standards.
We could never expect employed drivers to care about the business as much as we did. But we could show them the level we expected.
We worked together for 25 years.
There were plenty of ups and downs, and I would be lying if I said it never affected our relationship.
I loved him, but he could push my buttons faster than anyone else on the planet.
Looking back, I think part of that was me wanting him to be proud of what we had built.
The thing was, his personality would never let him be fully satisfied.
Now I find myself working with my own kids.
And I often wonder how I avoid making the same mistakes.
It’s not easy. I can already see that I judge them harder than other people.
But I also know that’s because I care about them more.
Family businesses are complicated.
But if someone offered me the chance to go back and spend the last 25 years working for British Airways instead…
And not have spent those years working alongside my dad…
And having all those arguments…
I probably wouldn’t change a thing.
Except maybe the way we looked twenty years ago....
