I must admit, the end of the Basildon lockout was a bit of an anti-climax. I had discovered more about the camaraderie of socialism and the true meaning of the brotherhood of the union (be fair, there were not many women in the trade union at that time) in those couple of weeks with theContinue reading “Union bonds do not last forever, but I still had all the world as my stage”
Category Archives: My life
One man and his dog – but it’s the dog in charge of the show
When I was a trainee reporter – over 50 years ago – most of the stories I reported on were straightforward. A story could be a report on a court case; reports from a council meeting; sports reports; a theatre review; or one of many other events. In all these cases I went to court,Continue reading “One man and his dog – but it’s the dog in charge of the show”
One in the eye for the bosses when picketers produce a Royal edition
The weekend came and the weekend went. The journalists in Basildon were still locked out by the Westminster Press Group management. The printworkers were still refusing to return to work unless the lockout was ended and the journalists also allowed to return. On that Monday morning in November, with the wedding of Princess Anne andContinue reading “One in the eye for the bosses when picketers produce a Royal edition”
Natural suspicion takes a back seat when it comes to bosses v workers
In my early days as a journalist, especially when I worked at Holywell and used to go to the head office printing works with Peter Leaney, one particular point was always drummed into me: “Don’t upset the printworkers.” Once the stories for the newspaper had been sourced, written and subbed the journalists passed over controlContinue reading “Natural suspicion takes a back seat when it comes to bosses v workers”
Normal services interrupted as chapel members take a walk
Despite my search for real socialism and my fascination with the story of the labour movement, as opposed to the Labour Party, I did not find myself involved in any serious union activity until I moved down South. As I have said I joined the National Union of Journalists while working in North Wales. OtherContinue reading “Normal services interrupted as chapel members take a walk”
All roads don’t lead to Rome – most of them end up at the seaside
Do you have a special place you love which is not real? I don’t mean like Billy Liar with his imaginary country of Ambrosia where he is the benevolent, but brave, leader, guiding both his country’s development and armed forces. I mean the sort of place Peter Pan would call a “happy place” where youContinue reading “All roads don’t lead to Rome – most of them end up at the seaside”
Lucifer and his little devils take a load off the editor’s shoulders
In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was spelt E-D-I-T-O-R. Since the news sheets of the 17th century metamorphosed into the newspapers of the 19th and 20th centuries the editor, who might once have been reporter, typesetter and even printer all in one, grew to become the final arbiter regarding what appeared inContinue reading “Lucifer and his little devils take a load off the editor’s shoulders”
Springtime carries you forward – and promises a glorious summer
The Spring of 1973 was a glorious time. As far as I was concerned the sun shone every day; I was raking in the stories for the Standard Recorder; my circle of socialist-minded friends was widening; my social circle was a round of fun, parties and theatre; and I was getting to spend more andContinue reading “Springtime carries you forward – and promises a glorious summer”
Seaside resort – not the best place when you seek political answers
Growing up in a middle class household during the 1950s and 60s in a seaside resort in NE Wales is not totally conducive to getting an insight into national politics in general and local politics in particular. For a start nobody really talked about politics to children and when I first started to take aContinue reading “Seaside resort – not the best place when you seek political answers”
Market meeting was a real bonus
Meeting my Muse at the market in March 1973 was a bonus as I thought it would be two weeks after the party before I saw her again. That half an hour with her made all the difference. If you are thinking of a long-term relationship then you should base it on each of youContinue reading “Market meeting was a real bonus”
Robin's Nest 