14 September

ALFRED - WEDNESDAY 14TH. SEPTEMBER.

After the final 'bang up' last night, Mr. Bell came and told me th1at he had decided to keep me in this wing, H5, for the rest of my sentence. However, he had another problem; the amount of post I was receiving, which was more than all the post received by the prison. He explained the prison was short of staff, and he could not use one officer for maybe 2, 3 or 4 hours to censor my letters and cards. So could I arrange for a coded word to be written on the outside of the envelopes for family letters so that the officer could process those, and all the rest would be saved until I leave Woodhill Prison. I had to agree. Later I fixed it with Anne my daughter, and Joel my son, and with Una that their envelopes would have the word Plessey on the outside, as that was the name of The street on which we lived.
During today I was moved from wing H5 to wing 4A, contrary to Mr Bell's plans. This is a more open, in the sense that instead of cells all round the central hall, it had cells on only two side, and the third side was one huge window, nearly the whole wall side. The hallway had dining chairs and tables, three pool tables, though one was not used, as the store did not have enough balls. There was a full sized table tennis table, and one of those football games. My cell was on the ground floor, and I shared it with another inmate. The reason that the wing only had three sides was because it shared a main entrance with 4B Wing. And it was more open in another way, in that we seemed to have more time out of the cells. This diminished when there was a shortage of staff, as I learned when the weekend arrived. The other inmates were just as friendly. Some I had met in H5, but the rest greeted me with " Hallo Vicar! ", and either shook my hand, or with the black inmates a knuckle to knuckle touch.
Ali was a very strong looking man with a shaved head, but with a wonderful smile, who made me welcome. Ali had been a Turkish weight lifter, but had been in Britain for many years, including a college in Scotland. He had a problem that confided to me. His 14 year old son had taken an overdose, and had been taken to hospital, and had been asking for his father. He told me that he had left a telephone message with the Muslim Chaplain, but as he put it, nothing had happened. Is there anyway that I could help? And I told him that I had been visited briefly by some of the chaplain team, who spoke to me through the closed door. And this is what happened, exactly. During afternoon lock up, a Baptist member of the team had heard that I had been moved and spoke through the door. I asked if the team could do anything about Ali's problem, and he said he would talk with other members of the team, but no promises.
My visitor today was the Revd. Tony Bryer, the Priest in Charge of Towcester Parish. I talked with him about his new parish, and how I was coping with being in prison. I know that this was ' shop talk', but I enjoyed our time together. Then time was up, and he left.
As I was walking across the 'park' on the way back to the wing, I saw the Revd. Mr. Green, who had taken last Sunday's service. I spoke to him even though I got a shout from an officer to" get off the grass", which I acknowledged with a wave of my hand. Anyway, Mr. Green told me that he and two or three Methodist Ministers and their wives met every now and again, and that they had sent a message of support and encouragement and assurance of their prayers.
I had to make my bed up on the upper bunk and my cellmate helped me. This is a good start. Then it was supper time, and I went a table where a prisoner told us what was on the menu for tomorrow. I had to make a choice. To-night, I had to put up with a vegetarian meal. But as I was at the back of the queue, and there was some meat that had probably been chosen by someone who left the wing during the day, I was in luck.
We sat at the tables, six to each one, but wherever we liked or rather where there was a spare seat. And as there had been no association during the afternoon, we had it then. I met many more inmates, and I shall write about them more as I get to know them.
I cannot remember my cellmate's name, but he was young man, who was back again in prison. I think he was on licence, and been arrested again, so he was serving the rest, or his original time, inside. But while he had been outside, he formed a relationship with a lady, who had, I think two young sons, whom he was beginning to think of them as his own.
I warned him that I was a noisy sleeper, and that if I disturbed him, he was to tell me so. He put up with it for a day or two, but asked to move to another cell. I think anyway he was hoping to have a single cell.
Not long after that he disappeared, possibly to another prison, or maybe he was going licence again, a conditional one with a lot of supervision. I had spoken with quite a few inmates today and, 1 as we had only met for short while, I could get a bit mixed up.



UNA - SEPTEMBER 14TH 2005

At 7.15 a.m. Joel agreed that the effort to get to the Accident and Emergency Department of our local Hospital was necessary. When we checked in only one other person was waiting to be seen in the vast waiting area. When Joel's name was called he leapt manic steps on one foot to the nurse's office. After a short wait he leapt off again to be examined by the doctor who decided an x-ray would be necessary. A nearby Porter produced a wheelchair for me to wheel Joel down corridors to this department. My wheeling technique scared Joel. I was pushing too hard for the wheels to go straight and we were careering from side to side. He hopped most of the way and I slowed down pushing an empty chair.
After the x-ray we waited again in an almost empty area, except for the rows of beds lined up in the corridor, for the doctor to confirm what damage had been done. The same porter appeared again and explained in his calm quiet voice how the system worked for a major catastrophe, before walking off to find another job to do.
Joel bounced out of the doctor's room on one leg after hearing the verdict that his foot was not broken in any way. With strong bandage support from leg to toe we were free to go home. This time he allowed me to wheel him to the entrance and this I did in perfect style.
We reached home at 10a.m. after a twelve mile drive, in time for the arrival of the Observer courier who collected the photographs of Alfred and me for Neesa Macearlean's article. Mental note to buy the paper.

I managed to contact the Rural Dean before he left home to remind him about bringing his ID for the Prison visit he was making that afternoon. Promptly at 1p.m. he was at the front door ready to take Alfred's clean clothes. These numbered ten items, fulfilling Prison regulations!
It was exactly a week that Alfred had been in Prison. It turned out that the Rural Dean's visit failed to meet Prison procedure in some way. He was not allowed beyond the reception area. But the clothes he took were successfully accepted. Tony Briar, the local Vicar, did manage to see Alfred yesterday. He dressed as an ordinary individual so my picture of three obvious clergy sitting opposite Alfred was way off the mark.

The Citizen's Advice Bureau was able to confirm that the Council Tax Law 1992 was still in place and not changed in any way, even the struggle that Fathers for Justice were going through had not affected it as someone had muted after the last Court Hearing. At the Court Hearing, It was good to be quite certain that the Council Tax Law was unchanged, meaning that once the Prison sentence had been served the money could not be asked for by the local council. No Magistrate or Council would have any power over us at all. In our case, both John Woollett J.P. and South Northants Council had made inaccurate and misleading statements.

Today after 6.30 p.m. I had a phone call from Alfred. This was wonderful. He told me he had received too much mail, over 200 items, for the Prison staff to cope with. He and they agreed that only family mail would be given him and the rest he would receive when he left Prison. To help the Prison staff recognise family post he had chosen a code name to write on our envelopes. He decided on the name Plessey because we lived in Plessey Close, and after all Plessey was the name of a battle and we were certainly fighting in one.
We had an enormous amount of mail here today. All of it was supportive. Three friends known from College days had sent messages: Mary living in Cambridge was one of Whitelands College May Queens, Margaret who had come to live at Yelvetoft to be near her daughter's family, and Sheila who is our College Year's Secretary, all three cheering us on.
One letter made me laugh. Dr. J.R. Jones from Skipton, with an incredible sense of humour, had sent us a copy of his letter to Mrs. Gordon Brown written in 2004:

"Dear Mrs Brown,
My wife tells me that she dreamt last night that you gave her some flowers so I'm writing on her behalf to thank you.
At the same time, would you mind conveying my thanks to Mr Brown for the £100 he says I'll receive as a pensioner? The last time I bought tea out it cost between £0.83p and £1.15p so when the money comes I'll be able to buy my wife and me a cup of tea for a week for a whole year.
I'm very disappointed Mr Brown couldn't afford to give my wife something. She is also a pensioner aged 66. If he had, we could have put our money together to make a useful help in paying Council Tax. This has increased horribly since 1997 and from my voluntary time in the CAB I know that many people have sold their homes to pay Council Tax, only to find that care homes have been closing down. I keep worrying how long our savings will last before we do the same.
I wrote to Mr Raynsford about all this recently but he didn't reply and hasn't capped our Council Tax as he promised. Mr Brown has never replied to my letters either but I know they must be very busy - they probably don't have the time to read what I write.
Again, many thanks,
Yours sincerely,
J R Jones."

Joel’s foot was recovering well. He told me of his plans to drive off to Essex at 11.30 am. tomorrow from Oxford where the firm he chefs for has a function. He felt he could drive to Oxford. One of the team would drive to Essex.

Radio Oxford rang to fix an interview for 5p.m. tomorrow. The Observer and The Sunday Times both phoned for updates. I began to see how the Press worked. Updates meant more coverage which kept our campaign alive. Alfred being a clergyman added to the attraction of our story, a fact I had never imagined, and in turn added to the full-hearted support that was so constant. This was an amazing time.

Christine from Isitfair rang at both ends of the day. Her group is busy arranging a Lobby at the Labour Party Conference in Brighton at 2.15p.m. on September 27th. This provides a great opportunity 1to draw attention to the need for Council Tax Reform. She is hoping someone in the group will volunteer to organise this because she is busy responding to the media interest every day, speaking on local and national radio as well.
Demands and opportunities numbered more than there were hours in a day to cope with them.