A Death and the Sadness of Hatred
It was 1979. The memory of the three-day week and blackouts was still fresh in my mind as I sat in the Aston University Students Union lounge. On TV was a woman. I was listening to what she was saying because, to me, it made a whole lot of sense. Raised in Hull – a working class town if ever there was one – I rejected the bitter class warfare that passed for socialism and I found myself the butt of snide remarks for it too. Comments like “who the hell does he think he is going to college and all – he should get a bloody job like the rest of us”. Some so called school friends never spoke to me again for going to college and betraying my
Read More »