9 September

ALFRED. 9 Sept 2005.

I awoke very early, and it was darkish outside, and I could not write the diary until there was a lot more light. I thought about things, and said my prayers, and meditated. Then I wrote up the day before's happenings in my notebook.
The day started in the same way as yesterday. But an Officer and the store man prisoner offered and brought me some prison clothes: a tired maroon tracksuit trousers and a sweatshirt of the same colour, a light blue T-shirt, and grey socks. I handed over own shirt and socks, and something else, I cannot remember what, maybe my underpants. They must have given me a pair of boxer shorts. I could have had some prison pyjamas, but I did not know this. Later I had a feeling it was considered one was a pansy if you wore pyjamas.
Anyway, I was told, that if one wanted visits one has to fill in an application form specifying whom you would allow to visit you. I only put down Una's name, without a date, and handed it in. So I would have to speak to Una on the phone. Very luckily, I was reminded by an officer, that I had not had my one free call, and so rang up Una. She said she would make visit arrangements direct with the visitor’s dept. And I asked her to have some more of my own clothes to be handed in at reception.
Then I was told to report to a particular room for Induction. This was run by 2 officers who did not seem to know who was in charge of it. About a dozen of us were there, including 2 young Romanians, a couple of African British and some Indians or Pakistanis and a young chap who seemed ill. Induction is all about what one can do and cannot do, mostly cannot do. Firstly there are three categories of prisoner. Basic, usually for badly behaved ones. Standard, which I was. And because I was not a criminal but a civil prisoner, I was allowed to have a visitor every day, and I could continue to wear my own clothes. Then there is an enhanced status of prisoner, who was allowed more privileges, including longer visiting times. This status was earned by being useful, helpful and attending education, or by taking a course in catering and serving the meals. We were paid £2.50 a week, but £1.00 was deducted for the hire of the TV in the cell. By becoming a cleaner or store man, or working in the block laundry one could earn some more. There is a canteen at which one could buy things, like tobacco, matches, cigarette papers, stamps, telephone time, and about 70 other items. But you only buy things if you had an account, which was made up with money brought in, sent in, or earned. One handed in the shopping list on Sunday, and delivery to the block or wing, as it was sometimes known. Induction went on for an hour or so. The young man, apparently unwell, was sent to his cell, halfway through the session, as the officers were fed up with his play-acting. I think he was play acting and not ill. We also were told we have to go to the education induction, or we could lose status. This was for us, tomorrow morning.
Lunch was ready, and while collecting it I was told to report to the gate at "main" movement, to go to the medical centre. So about 1.45 p.m. I joined all those going somewhere, gym, education, or those who had visitors. We were touch searched, with hands out, and lifting up our shoes, and then let out through the bars into the area to wait for the steel doors to be opened. When they were open we all streamed to the central pathway, and were joined by all the others leaving their wings and going to the activities already mentioned. As we went along there were officers with dogs standing about, at the high fence with the gate there were other officers, keeping an eye on us, and we were led to wherever we were going. I was taken to the medical centre, touch searched again and shut in a waiting room. Later I was fetched to a youngish lady who explained that the centre wanted to have their own record of what I had been given when I had arrived, so we went through it again. Not a long wait this time and I was led out to the gate in the steel fence and back to H5. Back in the cell, I found that John had been moved for the last three weeks of his sentence. After tea or supper at 6.0pm, I was joined by Tony, which was fortunate for me, as I had run out of matches for my pipe, and he gave me some. Tony was on recall, i.e. he had been let out on licence, and something had happened (a nice way of saying he had done something, and he licence had been withdrawn) He expected to be a prisoner until Sept 2007. I enjoyed his company, and he took over the top bunk, and I moved down to the lower one. He taught me how to make a long wick. He took the toilet paper, several 6 foot lengths twisted them into a rope, and lit one end, and, hanging the smouldering end out the window, which kept alight for as long as one wanted. I was learning new tricks.
When I went to hand in my visitors list in the office on "ones", I saw an officer reading the post. They had to censor all mail coming in and going out. He said the pile in front of him was all for me. Later he delivered it to me, all 30 letters and cards. It took me two hours to read them all, so he must have spent about the same time to look through them. It was very encouraging to have so much support, my spirits were lifted. Many agreed that I had done the right thing, and some wished they could do the same thing, and many did not understand that H.M.P.Woodhill was my "local" prison as well as being a Category A Prison, and were outraged that I had been sent here.





UNA - SEPTEMBER 9TH 2005

At 5a.m. I put on Alfred's green and red-striped dressing gown for comfort, and went downstairs to look after the flowers delivered yesterday and still standing in water waiting to be arranged. I noticed it was a misty September morning, a promising day.
If yesterday was anything to go by, we needed to be ready for what was ahead of us today.
My thoughts were with Alfred wondering how he copes with his new routine.
I found myself thinking angrily about his extreme act of defiance against the Council Tax system. Perhaps the publicity surrounding Alfred is uniting millions now when once it had been a much smaller number.
When will the Prime Minister settle down to look after his own country properly?

My son insists that I don't drive to Milton Keynes today to see Alfred. He has his own memories of this prison when visiting a friend there some years ago perhaps, or he doesn't trust my driving today.
Trying to get a perspective I understand that Alfred is there by choice and not for years.
After washing the kitchen floor, one of those ordinary things to do, I found a Bourguignon meal in the deep freeze that would make a meal for today.


The postman delivered another heavy load of cards and letters from well-wishers. The phone calls were shared between Joel and me. Today he was home in order to come to the Prison with me. Christine spoke on the phone about keeping an update on Alfred's progress for those in touch with her through E-mails. This I would certainly try to do.
I was worried that James Wale after last night's interview might go ahead with an idea to raise a Petition for Alfred's release. Joel discovered his number through the 118118 system. James Wale had lost interest in a Petition thankfully.
A Glasgow reporter, Mike Tierny, called to arrange a meeting with Alfred in Prison during the weekend. He wanted to include our story with Sylvia Hardy's whom he was interviewing first.
Another challenge from Christine - can we find people to collect signatures outside Sainsbury's for the Petition idea? Impossible to think of anyone who uses the store at this moment.
Just before we left for Milton Keynes the Church of England Newspaper rang with an idea for a joint article from Christine and myself to provoke a debate from its readers. This was an opportunity worth acting on.

We set off for our first Prison visit at mid-day. We are due to see Alfred at 2.30 p.m. We are anxious to be on time. In the end it was Christian, the Daily Mail reporter, who drove us in his car because he had asked to see Alfred today
It was not a smooth start. Half way out of Towcester I realised that I had left my Passport behind. It was needed to prove entry into the Prison. Back home we went, taking advantage of the opportunity to buy Alfred two packets of his favourite tobacco. We also changed notes into æÃ1 coins to buy Alfred food and drink. Christian had more experience of Prison visits.
On our way at last, Christian kept our spirits steady with entertaining cricket stories. He was looking forward to being at the Test Match the following day at Lord's, whatever the weather might be.
Despite the hold-up we were in the Prison car park by 12.40 p.m.

The Reception area was not unlike a hotel layout. We checked in by quoting Alfred's Prison number and by showing our IDs. We were given numbered tickets and an information pack to share. Or tickets numbered 6,7 and 8.
At 1p.m. we moved from reception to a small room when our numbers were called. We exchanged the tickets for an authorised form which we carried with us all the way to the checkpoint before the visting hall.
First we had our IDs checked by a warder sitting behind a glass window in this small room where two walls were covered by lockers. Most had keys in their doors. After we had our finger prints and a photograph taken, we chose a locker to leave our property inside. We just carried the locker key, form and money to buy food and drink. It was a good idea to remember the locker number for the return journey!

We walked from this building across an open space to the Main Prison. Inside we presented our forms to another warder behind a glass panel before being searched similar to Airport procedure. Our shoes had to come off and our mouths, hands and the base of our feet were checked. The Prison staff knew who we were and openly cheered us on!
We left this checkpoint, passing through two electronic doors leading to the waiting room area. We walked along an outside pathway protected by a curved roof. On one side was a very tall wall, with rings of razor wire at the top of it, that stretched away into the distance. On our opposite side we could see Prison vans parked by the main building through a high wire fence. We were checked again before we entered the waiting area which was a large room where we found metal seats arranged in groups. At the far end was a glass protected office where warders checked lists and fingerprints before allowing us to enter the hall where the prisoners waited.
At 2,15 p.m. surnames were called out by a warder. This is where those with single ticket numbers at the reception stage gained a few extra minutes with their prisoner because names were usually called in numerical order.
When our numbers were called, I led the way into the hall. Gazing at the sea of faces in front of me I felt terribly lost until Alfred stood up in the far corner. It was a long way to reach him. His face crumpled as I neared and we had a long hug.
Christian was introduced and disappeared at once to buy sandwiches and drinks from a hole- in- the -wall shop close to the hall entrance. We faced Alfred across a small table with a low wooden barrier over the middle of it.
He told us about his two-bedded bunk in a shabby cell which he shared with one other older man. They had an unsatisfactory TV whose picture was constantly on the move. He felt that the prisoners had accepted him. He had talked to a few. The Methodist Chaplain had visited him on hi first day.
We told him about the volume of post and the many phone calls and how supportive everyone had been. We were looking forward to seeing the results of Justin's filming. We chatted on and on.
Although we had brought clothes for Alfred there was no easy way for him to receive them and it turned out to be several days before they reached him due to the procedure timing. To us he was shaved and wonderfully familiar. But he must have felt at a loss without clothes of his own.
When Christian came back from the shop it was his turn to talk to Alfred. Joel decided to leave soon afterwards grasping his Dad's hands tightly first. Christian left early too. I think he was being tactful.
The warders shouted out when time was up. It was hard walking away but I noticed that Alfred's attention was caught elsewhere which made an easier parting. We followed the same checking procedures in reverse with the unlocking of doors when a group of twelve collected together. I caught up with Joel in the locker room. I had been suffering a mild panic because my locker key seemed to be lost. It was a relief to see Joel waving it at me over the heads of other people struggling to get their belongings out of the lockers. I had forgotten he had taken care of it.
We found Christian waiting by his car. I remembered to collect Alfred's clothes from where we had left them at Reception, not accepted this time because we misunderstood the procedure that had to be followed.
Christian could see cameras and Press at the gates. He was not keen to stop but I persuaded him to give us two or three minutes because they had waited for some time. I forgot that this is part of their job, to wait. It was now 4.15 p.m. and we all needed to be away for different reasons.
When Christian dropped us at home he gave us two bottles of wine before he drove away. At our front door I noticed a parcel by the step. It turned out to be a box of Rocher chocolates from a very caring friend who lived close to us.

It helped Joel to have an offer from a friend who needed help to knock down walls in a building he was renovating. Just right for relieving tension. In a short while our meal had heated up so in the early evening Joel was ready to go.

It was time for me to do something ordinary. Watering the garden fitted the bill. Then I was ready to unload the Answer phone and finish opening the mail.
My cousin, silent for years, had written a terse message of support. I reacted at once to phone him he was willing to join in the Petition exercise. This pleased me very much.
Unusually an Oxford local Councillor from the Vale of White Horse had written a very valuable letter expressing understanding and support: " Some Councils (ours is controlled by the Lib Dems) are spendthrifts. They vote through, by party block voting all opposition, huge and unnecessary increases, and then cover it up with specious talk. It is, to me at least, sickening; especially those who vote these things through are often well-off and appear not to consider those who are not."

Among the phone messages there were two from Heather Nicholson, a journalist working for the Times. She sent greetings to Alfred and reminded us to to "Keep writing the Diaries." It had been her idea for us to do so if Alfred ever reached the Prison stage. Se had interviewed us for a Council Tax article some months before.
Wayne, a local reporter, let me know that the Leader of the Council had embarrassed her Officers by publicly denying their decision to remit or " wipe out " the debt. She said a Cabinet decision would be made in October.
Tomorrow an Observer reporter wants an interview and the Sunday Times is also interested." How about that for interest?
Tim Maybe is fixing a time for Alfred to speak on Eddie Mayer's 5 p.m. programme when he is released.
Reported in the Press I saw an article saying that Help the Aged supported our cause, which is indeed strong support.
Of the three interviews with me reported in the Express, Mail and Telegraph the most accurate and stylish was the article in the Telegraph. I learned from these interviews I needed to make clearer statements.
The family photos in the Express upset Anne big time. One of the reasons for this was that I had not asked for her agreement. Family fallouts really bother me. I could easily understand her point of view. It was a bad mistake. No one enjoys being disregarded. Certainly not by your Mother when you are 35. I apologised and the matter was set aside.

There had been over 50 calls today. Deleting to make room for messages was done several times. The day came to an end at midnight. I had never lived such a jam-packed day! Events seemed to have escalated through out the day but we had survived well.