.... pleased that my first book 'Gutter Feeling' is about to be republished.
Friends John and Richard are helping me to get it up on Lulu dot com.
That means that anyone in the world will be able to order it hey hey ........
At Easter I plan to write a new add-on first chapter/preamble, 2007 update, to the book AND also an additional last chapter to bring the book up to date. Soon after that is will be available.
One problem - I will need to use that last chapter to cover the 24 years since the book was first published!
Maybe this will be the catalyst for me to write a 'Gutter Feelings' part two which give the full story.
'Gutter Feelings' covered the first part of my life ........ the rest of my books are mainly Games and Group Work Tools books.
I am posting here an out-take from the book.
In fact this is how the whole book starts.
It is ugly for me as it recalls really some real ugly hours and days .........
:: :: :: :: :: :: ::
A fight had started in the club and I had known it was coming.
The atmosphere had been tense all evening.
Included among the 200 teenagers present we had a large group of older teenage boys who were out to prove themselves. They stood in a large group in a dominant area overlooking the disco and social area. Their only form of communication was foul language and a kick for anyone who was passing. There was bound to be trouble sooner or later.
You can’t just ‘police’ in a hostile environment like this. Your emotions are stretched, you try to keep your eyes everywhere and yet you need to seem relaxed and active. This was my position when the fight broke out. An Asian looking boy had come into the club with two white girls. Asians normally never enter the club, but due to the extensive publicity with the smart new club opening, one or two had started coming and we had been pleased to welcome them. Normally they didn’t stay long because of the racist abuse and harassment that we were unable to manage.
Alan, Doug and Geoff (my full-time colleagues) and myself were into the melee instantly and it stopped briefly before more violent kicks and punches were thrown at the badly bleeding and shaken visitor. He was taken down to my office by Doug while the other workers tried to deal with the violent and bitter racist atmosphere. ‘We were only pulling other off him,’ said the four regular club members, grinning sickly. We had got to know these boys over the previous five years, loved them, prayed for them and yet they were still violent, aggressive teenagers.
In the office I tried desperately to relate to a young man who was highly agitated, insulted, bitter, humiliated and covered in blood. Doug was bandaging him; he was bleeding badly from a head wound caused by a pool ball. I tried to apologise, explain, express our hurt, before he was driven away to hospital in a quickly borrowed minibus. The bitter racist atmosphere was still evident in the club. There were laughs from both sexes. ‘Did you see him bleed? his blood was black!’ ‘The next best thing to a dead dog is a dead Paki!’ It is impossible to express the immensity of hurt and hate evident that evening.
During his journey to the hospital Doug found out that the young man’s nationality was South American! It didn’t matter to the attackers - He looked like a Paki!
The club continued but we knew quite well that we would have to stand with this young visitor against our members. Justice meant our standing against any racist attack and this justice was instantly offered to the visitor.
The next day was even worse. There was two probation officers in my office when the four boys were concerned with the attack came round, having heard that the police were after them, and realising our obvious involvement as witnesses. Threats were directed at me with such ferocity that it shook me to the core. Inside I was shaking. I am certain that if the probation officer hadn’t been there the attack would have been physical, and I felt protected by their presence. ‘We are coming to smash the place up Sunday,’ were their parting words.
All this resulted in some horrible days. The members concerned were known to be going through a very violent time of their lives. It affected me deeply. I was unable to sleep for two nights; I was afraid to walk the streets; I was scared for our kids. Joan, my wife was waking up in the middle of the night and retching in the toilet. The tension for my family was so great – yet it was second-had tension all being passed on from me...............................
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