In the spring of 1983, I started an open university course called social
psychology. It was a third level course, and I had had no previous
experience in the study of psychology, so it was rather ambitious for me.
But I enjoyed doing it, much more than the half-level in Crime and Society,
which I had taken in 1982, when I had felt too ill to do very much. In 1983
my health was improving. One of the exercises was an observation on
people engaged in work activity, and I chose to observe a group of young
men repairing cars in the road where I lived. This was fun and the young
men were not aware of what I was doing.
In 1983 I noticed an advertisement on the back page of the "Catholic
Herald." A society called Catholic Peace Action were planning to hold a
prayer service combined with a protest against the Trident Nuclear Weapon
and similar weapons of war outside the Ministry of Defence building in
Whitehall.
I answered this advertisement and a group of people visited my house in the
spring of 1983. They planned to hold a demonstration with prayer on the
steps of the Ministry of Defence in October. They showed a leaflet giving
photographs of people previously involved on Ash Wednesday that year. Four
people had chained themselves together and had blocked the entrance. These
were Sarah Hipperson, Pat Gaffney, Ray Towey and a young student called
Patrick. They had also written signs in charcoal on the steps and pillars
of the main entrance. The words written were "Repent," "Peace" and "Choose
Life". They were demonstrating against nuclear weapons as a Christian
group, with prayers being said before and during the action.
The two people who visited me were Pat Gaffney and Ray Towey. Ray Towey
was a consultant anaesthetist working at Guy's Hospital. Pat was a full-
time worker in overseas charitable aid. The next action was planned for
October 1983. They asked me if I would like to join it. I thought about it
carefully. I pointed out that I had breathing problems from time to time.
After much thought the symbolism of using chains did not appeal to me and I
said that for this reason I could not join the action. I was also afraid of
becoming ill suddenly which often happened to me during the cold weather in
the winter of 1982/1983. Then I would have to leave the scene suddenly.
This would not be possible if I was chained to other people. The way this
action was set up disturbed me, and I said regretfully that I could not
take part.
In October that year I was not present even as an observer. This was due
to the cold weather, which aggravated the bronchitis which had plagued me
most of the year. However I was keen to support and offered £140 as
a donation from "my father and myself" though I do not think Dad would have
wholly approved. He was against spending money on Trident Nuclear Weapons,
but was more politically than religiously opposed to them. I do not think
he would have considered an unofficial Catholic group the right way to go
about protesting against nuclear weapons.
I thought that these weapons were entirely immoral and would have been glad
if the Catholic Church and other Christian churches had totally opposed
their manufacture. So I was very pleased that a Catholic group had been set
up to oppose nuclear weapons. At the same time I wanted also to oppose
these weapons through the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. I thought that
wholly secular groups opposing the weapons for moral reasons equally valid
and supported all such groups if I could summon the energy to do so.
In 1983 my energy reserves were low. I was often out of breath while
walking but continued to take sandwiches and walk along the river bank very
often in an effort to improve my health.
In the summer of 1983, my father asked me to spend two weeks at Gordona as
he intended to enter hospital to have an operation for a rupture. Until
that time he been satisfactorily wearing a truss and continuing to do some
gardening. That year he bought a "Fly-Mo" electric motor for cutting the
lawns and was delighted with it. It was like a new toy. When I visited him
I used it to cut the grass at the back of the house.
After two or three days spent with Dad cutting the grass, the ambulance
arrived to take him to the hospital in Colchester. He declared that he
would face this operation in the same way as he had faced going to the
trenches int the First World War. I thought this was a very dramatic way of
putting things.
I spent two weeks alone in the house at Gordona; I was worried about
signing on unemployed in Hackney and was glad to return to London after Dad
arrived home. He had meals on wheels and regular visits from a nurse.
By then my chest was playing up. I decided to have a week or two in
Eastbourne and went to the Melody Hotel, a bed and breakfast place I had
visited in 1982. It was pleasant. I visited Marjorie and met her uncle,
aged about 97, and her two friends Teresa, a nurse and Hope who lived
opposite Marjorie and used to travel on the train with her when they had
both commuted to london. I took Marjorie some cakes which I had bought in
Eastbourne. She gave me a chicken dinner that day, and we sat on the
verandah in the garden in the afternoon. Marjorie told me that looking
after her uncle was a full-time occupation.
After I returned from Eastbourne it was time to go to York University. I
saw the geese again and enjoyed walking along the covered paths to the
various laboratories and meeting rooms for tutorials. There was one older
woman doing the course. I did badly with the practical work.
By Christmas 1983 I was feeling better and was able to visit my father in
Manningtree. This was the last Christmas when his health remained fairly
good and he insisted on cooking the complete Christmas dinner. I went to
church at 5 pm on Christmas Day. I think I had to walk a mile there but
was given a lift home by someone with a car. The Mass was held in the
Church of England Church at Mistley. For the rest of the time my father and
I settled down to play some long games of chess. This was his favourite
pastime.