1970s PRIVATE LIFE
0215 Molesey Residents Association
Molesey was, in the 1970s, unusual in having a very strong residents association. This was not politically affiliated or even philosophically aligned with any of the parties. Many residents associations, or more commonly ratepayers associations, are closet Conservatives. Ours was not even biased in favour of one-party or another. Not least, I never even knew what the political affiliations were of the other individuals on the committee.
On the other hand, like many similar organisations, it had been started as a result of a local controversy. Also like others the dispute was one concerned with town planning; in essence the NIMBY factor. Thus, a controversial planning decision had been made, affecting the conservation area at the centre of Molesey. This was where a number of the better off, and more influential, citizens lived. Prominent amongst these was Evelyn Attlee and, when I joined, she was chairman. She was also, partly because of her longer membership of the MRA (Molesey Residents Association), a major participant in -- and eventually chairman of - FHANG; the group fighting aircraft noise. This was understandable, since planes taking off from Heathrow flew directly over Molesey, creating a significant amount of noise. This was particularly true of Concorde. You could almost set your watch by the sound of Concorde roaring overhead at 2 o'clock in the afternoon.
There had been a great deal of local dissent, with several local meetings turning into near riots, when the council's ‘war' on the conservation area took place. It was at this stage that some residents got together and formed the residents association.
By the time I joined, however, MRA had spread to the whole of Molesey. More important it had, without becoming political itself, taken on the political process by getting its own councillors elected for the local area. Indeed, by that time it dominated the seats in the local area -- though it was still in a minority on the council, which covered the whole of Elmbridge. MRA maintained its position by very obviously representing the local area. In particular, its position was maintained by a regular newsletter distributed to the whole of Molesey. It was financed by members, though this was never a great problem since the majority of local people supported the principle. When we were canvassing on the doorstep, the typical response was “I vote for you because you're non-political”.
Even when I joined, however, the committee was still dominated by the conservation area group. I was on the committee as the representatives of the Hurst Park Residents Association. ‘Outsiders’, like myself, then rarely got a look in. There was a degree of snobbery in this, in that the rest of Molesey was less wealthy -- and the houses were less spectacular.
Accordingly, I was a one-man ginger group representing the rest of Molesey. Later on I was joined by another councillor, Gwen Barber, who also came from West Molesey and was also very active. But at the start it was just me.
As a member of the committee I was involved in a variety of activities, especially protests (typically about planning problems). But I also got involved in money raising, by jumble sales for example.
Ian Donaldson & myself
As I said, the residents association was relatively unique in running its own group of counsellors. It had half a dozen on the Elmbridge Council, which were backed up by several residents association councillors from nearby Thames Ditton and a couple from Walton on Thames. Even so we still were in the minority. Indeed, even though we had twice the number of councillors that the Labour Party had, they were taken by the Conservatives to be the official opposition.
I got myself onto the council, that time, as the result of a by-election. It was in the Western end of Molesey, which was dominated by the Hurst Park estate. As such, aided by the fact that I was by then the chairman of the Hurst Park Residents Association, I was the obvious choice. In fact, the main criterion in those seeking to be councillors was simply that you were willing to do the job. It is in incredibly difficult in general get people to even stand for committees and help on events. They certainly did not put themselves forward for councillor. Their lack of public spirit is, though justified. If you are dedicated to the role, being a councillor takes most of your evening time; and ruins your family relationships – as it did mine.
At the time of my own by-election, however, we were somewhat nervous, since it had been close run race in the previous general election. Accordingly, we intensively canvassed the area. Canvassing was, for me, an eye-opener. It turned out it was not about explaining the issues, or even chatting up your supporters. When the door opened you launched into a very brief spiel introducing yourself. What you then did depended on the reaction. If it was a clear facing you was a firm supporter of the other party -- the Conservatives in this case -- and it was obvious that you couldn't change their mind, you quickly thanked them for their time and moved on. Surprisingly, if it was obvious that it was your own supporter you did much the same. You were very courteous, but found the earliest opportunity to move on. The fact was that they were going to vote for you anyway and you didn't have time to waste even on them. Some canvassers, unfortunately, made the mistake that these were the people on who most time should be spent. In fact the main targets were the floating voters. These were the ones you might be able to persuade to decide their vote in your favour, and as such were worth spending time with. But, in all cases, the main thing was to get your foot in the door and show them that you were interested in them; and, in particular, interested in representing their views. In essence you needed to show them the courtesy of appreciating them as individuals, before moving on as fast as possible to the next one. Indeed it was not the length of time on the doorstep which counts, but the number of doors opened.
Our canvassing was good, which was reflected on polling day. Incidentally, there is a tradition, on polling day, of the various parties having their tellers sitting outside the polling station. As the voters go in, these tellers rigorously tick of the names against the electoral role. Then they call on their supporters to go out and chase up their putative voters, and bring then to the vote them in cars. I was always dubious whether this helped. Pat's mother always used to get the Conservatives to take her to the polling station, and then voted Labour. We looked as if we were doing the same, but in fact didn't do anything with the information. The main reason for this was that we didn't have the organisational structure to bring the voters in. But we had to keep up the pretence and -- as on the doorstep -- we had to indicate we were interested in the voters’ decision. In any case it didn't cause us any major harm, for I obtained twice the votes of my rival.
The other new excitement for me was, of course, the final count; which took place in the council chamber. It was fascinating to watch the counting taking place, and especially fascinating where my own future was on the line. It was rather like betting on a horse race; where you were also a jockey!
Eventually I was announced as the winner, and we all went roaring and whooping out into the entrance. There we had our photographs taken, on the grand staircase, by local papers. I was rather cynical about the whole process beforehand, but I really did find myself almost euphoric. I'd been elected by popular vote, and that is something you don't normally experience -- especially if you're not a politician. It was a marvellous feeling.
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