The miners' strike of 1984-85 is the most cataclysmic event in postwar British history. The many legacies of the strike, and of the defeat of the National Union of Mineworkers, still divide Britain to an extent often difficult to comprehend, such is the scale of the changes that the defeat of 1985 has wreaked upon British society.
In August 1984, Artists' Agency in Sunderland asked Keith Pattison to spend a month in the mining village of Easington, in County Durham, photographing the strike. Keith stayed, on and off, until the end of the strike in March 1985. The photographs he took, and which are now collected in his book No Redemption, tell the story of a village under occupation by its own police force, a community under siege from its own government and, photograph after photograph, of the resistance, the resilience and the sacrifice of the men, women and children of Easington during the year of the strike.
I have heard that many of these photographs were an inspiration to playwright Lee Hall when he was writing the film Billy Elliot and they were also an important reference for me when I was writing my novel about the strike, GB84. Therefore, I felt honoured when Keith asked me to write an introduction to the collection.
So, 25 years after the end of the strike, on election day 2010, I went to Easington with Keith to meet three of the people whose faces I had seen in the photographs he had taken: Alan Cummings, who was the NUM lodge secretary for Easington, Jimmy Johnson, a miner who stayed out on strike for the whole year, and his wife, Marilyn, who helped run the kitchen in the colliery club with the support group, Save Easington Area Mines.
That day, Keith and I talked to Alan, Jimmy and Marilyn about the memories – both good and bad – that the photographs brought back of the strike and that year. We also talked about what had happened after the strike, about the closure of the colliery in 1993 and the effect of that closure on the community and the people of Easington. This conversation now forms the introduction to No Redemption. But these photographs really need no introduction, need no words. Because they tell their own story. A true story. A history. A story and a history of resistance, resilience and sacrifice which should be an inspiration, which should never be forgotten.
No Redemption by Keith Pattison and David Peace is published by Flambard Press at £20
VOICES FROM THE COALFIELDS
THE ORGANISER - Alan Cummings was Easington miners' lodge secretary during the strike. Now 63, he has been out of work since the pit closed in 1993 and acts as a voluntary adviser to ex-miners with health problems.
"The strike was about trying to save a way of life, and 25 years on the strikers have been proved right. What we predicted would happen has happened and our worst fears have come true. When they closed the pit they ripped the heart out of the community.
"Since then, we've not had the help we needed. The Labour government ignored us and it looks like this new lot will too. We need investment, we need to begin building starter homes and making mortgages accessible to young people. It's only possible to regenerate an area like this if you spend money on housing and shopping centres. There is work to be had around here, mainly in call centres, but you need to encourage people who are in work to come and live here and spend their money."
THE HELPER - Marilyn Johnson helped run the kitchen in the colliery club during the strike with the support group Save Easington Area Mines. A former sales assistant in an Easington chemist, she is now retired, aged 63, and lives in South Hetton, Co Durham.
"At the height of the strike, we used to feed 500 a day with food provided by local shops and cafes. There was always enough to go round because businesses in the community were so supportive with their donations. Everybody was in the same boat and we all pulled together. I'm proud to say that people respected me and the lasses who worked in the kitchen. I got to know so many new people that year.
"There's very little community in Easington now. The pit was the lifeblood of the place, socially and economically, and things went downhill as soon as it closed. People moved out and houses and shops got boarded up. The benefit culture took hold. Eventually, there were drugs raids and stabbings in our street, so we moved away 11 years ago."
THE MINER - Jimmy Johnson started work at Easington colliery when he was 15. He stayed out for the duration of the miners' strike and was one of the last to leave the pit when it closed in 1993. Now 65, he has not worked since.
"Money was very tight that year, but I never considered going back to work. I couldn't have lived with myself if I had and my wife Marilyn would have broken my legs. When I go down Easington main street now, I can walk with my head held high, knowing that I did everything I could to hold the community together. But it's not Easington any more. The community has disintegrated and it is full of strangers. Everybody knew everybody before."