Haleys Comet

Just a little piece of my family history.

It was Easter, in fact Good Friday, the 8th April 1977.

I was 13 years old at the time living with my parents and four siblings in a quiet Lincolnshire town. Not a lot happened there at all if you discounted in previous years 1) A cataclysmic explosion in a nearby chemical plant 2) the odd murder 3) occasional drownings in one or more of the two watercourses that ran through it.

On the day in question I cannot remember what I got up to, probably attending church, playing out and anticipating a shed-load of chocolate eggs from family and relatives in a couple of days time.

As a new member of that strange stage in everyone's life- a teenager I was probably blushing when being spoken to by girls, squeezing pimples or just coming to terms with a changing body and metabolism.

All of that normal growing up stuff did not however get in the way of my favourite pastimes of just watching television .

The Radio Times listings for that particular Religious holiday promised great things leading up to the usual friday night viewing.

From 1.30pm there was a showing of the Easter Epic directed by George Stevens of "The Greatest Story Ever Told" although at over 3 hours duration I will have lost concentration and wandered off a few times to get an orange squash and a handful of biscuits (but not enough to spoil my tea).

That was followed by more like the usual scheduling on the BBC of "Young Magician of the Year", hosted by Peter Purves and an animated feature entitled The Golden Antelope which was a telling of an Indian fairy tale.

These programmes took up the time until the early evening National and Regional News at 5.30pm which was of no interest whatsover and gave an opportunity for eating with a good helping of beans or spaghetti hoops on toast (even on a moveable feast day).

In a happy, fully fed stupor it was time to be clever and answer at least one or more of the questions on the "Ask the Family"quiz show which, on 8th April 1977 was the Grand Final between The Dawsons and whoever out of The Harvey family or Barker families had won the second semi final a few days before.

I think I only ever watched the show to see its host, Robert Robinson treat the contestants with contempt for their collective stupidity when failing to answer correctly something that even I knew like a) who was manager of Liverpool and b)what sort of animals were the Roobarb and the Custard.

The evening viewing continued with a special "Disney Time" which featured tantalising clips of the classics such as Cinderella, Wind in the Willows and Bambi and newer releases of the previous 12 months including Shaggy DA, Freaky Friday and the little aired Treasure of Matecumbe.

A condition of staying up late imposed by our parents was that we had to be washed and in pyjamas so by 7pm I was clean and snug and ready to see another holiday special of the long running "Superstars" series where sporting personalities ( that word means so much more than the modern phenomena of celebrities) competed against each other to prove that, yes, footballers were pampered wimps compared to the likes of boxer John Conteh, Judoist Brian Jacks and rugby man Gareth Edwards.

This particular broadcast was of "World Superstars" although looking at the participants now I only recognise Rudi Krol , Peter Snell and Bob Seagren.

At 8.15pm it was time for one of the regular thirty minute BBC sit-coms  in the form of "Are you Being Served?" although much of the camp, risque and double entendre laden dialogue was lost on me in my tender years.

The evening was building up to something special and sure enough at a quarter to nine the first episode of a new mini series was broadcast.

It was called Roots, a big budget dramatisation (in 1977 moneys at £3 million) of the family history of Alex Haley covering black slavery in the 1760's through successive generations until the liberation from indentured servitude with the outcome of the American Civil War.

The cruelty and inhumanity of the slave trade as depicted by the forced abduction of the main character, Kunta Kinte from Gambia and the perilous sea-journey to the Southern States was harrowing enough but the story was relentless in its telling of the injustices and deprivation suffered at the hands of the white plantation owners and New World middle class.

The series continued over that Easter period and became compelling viewing in our house awakening a sense of moral outrage at the behaviour of man to his fellows. We were not alone in our fascination for the subject as on its launch in America it had attracted a TV audience equivalent to three fifths of the population.

The authenticity of the drama shocked many on both sides of the Atlantic who had not believed or had simply chosen to ignore the human cost behind the commercial wealth and affluence on which respective Empires had been built.

Roots did have an impact and in the United States in 1977 was seen as a major step in the right direction in race relations which at the best of times were difficult and tense.

This year is the 40th anniversary of the TV series.

I am sorry to say that the optimism and hope expressed at that time has not been carried through but over the last four decades considerable progress has been made in the denunciation of the historic slave trade industry and with a renewed determination to tackle modern forms of forced labour in a supposedly enlightened world. There is still a lot of work to do.