Milk Snatcher

I have very mixed feelings about the demise of Mrs Thatcher.

On the one hand I admire her for having the guts to take on the ruling classes of this country and giving them a good run for our money.

This is particularly laudable taking into account her reasonably humble origins and the fact that the only other good thing to come out of her home town Grantham is the A52 Trunk Road.

However, set against any warm feelings I may have about a shopkeepers daughter made good are the experiences of her period in office that coincided with my late teen and early 20's. I was, at that age politically naïve. It is usually the case that first time voters follow their family loyalties and affiliations. I was no different and so in my first ever coming of age vote I actually contributed to, at the time of exercising my democratic rights, keeping the Conservatives in power for their second term of office under Maggie.

My parents who have been my role models, and remain firmly so ,supported the fundamental doctrine of the Tories but in a human, philanthropic and benevolent way which was as far detached as could be possible from the actual way that the policies were forced and bullied into legislation often to the detriment of those less able to put up a spirited  and justifiable defence. 

In all of the nostalgic reminiscences of recent days about the woman and her contribution to this country we have tended to forget particular events over which we, as individuals may have been affected and profoundly so.

It was a tumultuous period in history although not fully appreciated until seen with the luxury of hindsight. 

As a young adult I experienced some of these events first hand or as an anxious onlooker. I have never forgotten how I felt at the time of these historic events and these emotions have resurfaced as a perfect counter to the media frenzy and analysis of the life and times of Mrs T.

In my own way I will be elsewhere on the day of the State Funeral, physically, mentally and in spirit.

In 1981 the Nottingham inner city area of Hyson Green joined in as part of the summer of civil unrest that was taking place in many large UK cities following similar in Brixton, Chapeltown and Toxteth. I was a first year student in Nottingham arriving in the autumn of 1981 and the scars of the rioting were very visible and deeply set in the community. The tension in and around the local area was very much evident even to me whose home grown experiences in Hull were based on a small newspaper column reporting that a group of youths had run through the bus station making a bit of noise. A comparatively sheltered upbringing meant that I was not at all prepared to take in the undercurrent of racial and social problems which had surfaced barely a month or two before.

The Falklands War in 1982 was one of the most televisual to date and the broadcasting was unceasing from live pictures and accounts of attacks , victorious and otherwise to the deadpan statements of the Ministry of Defence spokesman, Ian McDonald.  I was at the end of my first year as a student and although the conflict was far away I was conscious of being of conscriptable age and the thought of having to take up arms really does put some perspective into a young life. Perhaps that selfish feeling was lessened by the war competing with the televised matches of the World Cup at the same time.

As it seems to be the case, Nottingham was at the forefront of the collateral damage inflicted by Thatcherism. Further excitement in my final years as a student came from the Miners Strike. The city was full of Police with white riot vans on standby to be sent to flashpoints through the traditional coal mining areas. Communities were torn apart as the strike became protracted and bitter. I remember seeing the debris and aftermath of confrontations between striking miners and the police in the pit towns between Nottingham and Sheffield and this made quite an impression on me.

There were also the worst excesses of the period but their impact was to a large extent defused by the portrayal of the leading characters and their political beliefs in the foam puppets of Spitting Image or the larger than life depiction of entrepreneurial talent by Harry Enfield. The period also saw the rise of the comedic and political satirists who although still around today are more likely to be delving into controversial recipes and making a nice living out of voice overs for consumer goods and services than expressing revolutionary tendencies.

I certainly woke up to the world in the early 1980's and although swept along in the revival of the standing of Britain through the high profile statesmanship of Mrs Thatcher my outlook on life would never be the same again. It is a big disappointment to me, today, that nothing much has changed in this country and we are poorer citizens for that. I do not even have a day off to look forward to.......