The fire, the bridge and the war zone; Remembering the New Cross Fire – Part 2

BY MKUU AMANI

Against a backdrop of growing, racial tension suspicion surrounded the cause of the house fire that claimed lives in New Cross in January 1981. The ‘Black People’s Day of Action’ was organized as a protest against the government’s response to what became known by many as the ‘New Cross Massacre.’ Mkuu Amani reflects.

According to some estimates, up to twenty thousand people took part in the Black People’s Day of Action on Monday, March 2^nd, 1981.

I was one of them – drawn – like thousands of others, to London, the nation’s capital. We arrived in coachloads from all corners of the UK. Manchester, Bristol, Liverpool, Birmingham – people came from everywhere.

The victims of the New Cross Fire were many. Worst still, fourteen of them died at, within a few days of, or – in twenty-year-old Anthony Berbeck’s case – within a few years of the terrible blaze.

Humphrey Geoffrey Brown (15), Peter Campbell (18), Steve Collins (17), Patrick Cummings (16), Gerry Paul Francis (17), Andrew Gooding (14), Lloyd Hall (20), Rosaline Henry (16), Patricia Johnson (15), Glenton Powell (16), Paul Ruddock (22), Yvonne Ruddock (16) and Owen Thompson (16) – were the others killed.

By joining the march, you knew that you were making a huge statement, politically and socially. And not just because of how many people had turned up.

The heartfelt chants, the huge banners and placards, the trucks loaded with people, the music, the demonstration of unity – everything spoke volumes that day.

What you couldn’t know then was that you were part of a protest that would last beyond the miles that you would walk that day. Who could have foreseen that the march and our protestation would continue into the here and now? And with that, that people from across the African-Caribbean diaspora would continue to add their voices to the cause?

Filmmakers, journalists, authors, poets and musicians have been and remain amongst the contributors. Family members too.

In tribute, ‘New Cross Fire Page One,’ a reggae album produced and compiled by the late Charles Collins, otherwise known as ‘Sir Collins,’ was released late in 1981.

Sir Collin’s son, Steve Collins, at just 17 years old, was one of the victims that died.

As news about the fire in New Cross spread throughout and beyond the UK, the Jamaican diaspora responded.

So also, by late 1981 songs like ‘13 Dead (Nothing Said)‘ by the ‘Dancehall Godfather,’ Jamaica’s Johnny Osbourne, and ‘New Cross Fire‘ by Raymond Naptali and Roy Rankin, were just some of the compelling tracks released.

By 1982, Barbados born filmmaker Menelik Shabazz had completed his short documentary, ‘Blood Ah Go Run.’ Although initially envisaged as a production for underground community circulation, he soon realized that this wasn’t its destiny. It’s since become available on DVD and via the British Film Institute.

And by 1983, dub poet Linton Kwesi Johnson’s ‘New Craas Massahkah‘ was the seventh track on his ‘Making History’ album released on Island Records.

Meanwhile, another poet – Birmingham born Benjamin Zephaniah – was also active in 1983, releasing his first album ‘Rasta,‘ which included the poem ’13 Dead.’

And though the years pass, there is no indication yet that the memory of the tragedy in New Cross will be washed away by the sands of time.

Playwright Rex Obano’s audio play ‘Lover’s Rock,’ a fictional drama based in part upon the tragic event, was broadcast by BBC Radio 3 in 2012.

In the previous year, 2011, prominent and renowned journalist Darcus Howe (who has since, sadly deceased) wrote the powerful, ‘New Cross: The blaze we cannot forget,’ for The Guardian. His concluding statement reads, ‘We shall not forget.’

But all this was still to come and furthest from our minds when we took to the cold, wet streets of London, in March 1981.

The march took us from south London across the River Thames into the City of London. We followed a route that began in New Cross, snaked through Peckham and Camberwell then headed north, through Elephant and Castle and Southwark before crossing Blackfriars Bridge.

Once over the bridge, we would head west through Temple, Covent Garden and Soho brushing past Westminster as we made our way to Mayfair and finally, Hyde Park.

Before arriving at Blackfriars Bridge, there was a six-and-a-half-mile journey to complete. And with the challenge of the miserable conditions and the hostile environment and almost overwhelming police presence in mind, no one could take for granted that we’d reach the River Thames without incident.

Police officers lined the route, pacing alongside the marchers. Many of them walked poker-faced and eyes front. It was clear that most of them knew that it wasn’t a good time to converse.

“Blood ah go run, if justice no come.”

“Freedom. Freedom. Freedom”

“Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder.”

“Black people, united, will never be defeated.”

Raised voices of youths and adults, male and female, cut through the air to saturate the heavy skies above, where they merged with the beating sounds of the conga drumming and ambience of the horns.

With this spirit, the marchers would cross the River Thames and march through major industrial centres and tourist locations like Fleet Street and Piccadilly Circus. A delegation made up of the parents of the victims and organizers would deliver a statement to the House of Commons. The powerful but peaceful day of protest would then finally culminate in a rally at Hyde Park.

We arrived at Blackfriars Bridge to find that the police had other ideas.