When I was growing up I used to spend a lot of time in my dad’s office. It was an intriguing place with mannequins, fabrics, sewing machines and walls covered with pages from fashion magazines, sometimes of celebrities wearing his designs.
There was one wall, however, which was totally out of place. From memory it featured an eclectic mix of items including a postcard speech of Martin Luther King, a yellow ‘Free Nelson Mandela’ badge, an anti-Nazi League leaflet and a newspaper clipping of Bernie Grant.
I recognised ‘Mr Grant’, as the Tottenham Labour party office was only up the road and he was often around the neighbourhood, popping in to say hi. He didn’t seem famous, he didn’t have bodyguards and at the age of seven I could not understand why he was in the newspapers: who was he? Continue reading