Calm and loyalty in a crisis

In July 1981 I had just graduated and was earning some holiday money running a fast-food van. My employer was a Manchester City Council outfit called ‘Mr Manchester’s Fayre’.

Entrusted with aFord Transit and a twenty-foot long trailer I did the rounds of Heaton Park in Higher Blackley (by the lake), Buile Hill Park in Salford and Alexandra Park in Moss Side. I really quite enjoyed selling hotdogs, hot and cold drinks, ice creams and a selection of sweets.

On one pleasantly sunny afternoon I was trying to drum up trade in Alexandra Park. It had been unusually quiet all morning and throughout lunch. I had decided to initiate a two for one offer on hotdogs to catch attention and was broadcasting that through the speaker on the van, when my boss pulled up. He was a distinguished sort of man, always in a suit and driving an immaculately clean Ford Granada. He was rarely seen away from the depot at Heaton Park, and my first thought was that he’d been told about the two for one offer and had come to put a stop to it. That wasn’t what he wanted.

“David”, he began, “as quickly as you can, I’d like you to secure the tureens, pack up the generator, hitch up the trailer and return to base.” “Is there a problem?” I asked, wondering whether my wages were about to be docked. “No, it’s just that the police have been in touch to say that they are withdrawing from this section of the city, and they can’t guarantee the safety of our staff. So, quick as you can” and, with that, noticing a very large group of guys walking towards us across the park, he got back into his car, drove off at a distinguished pace and left me to it.

This was the beginning of two days of rioting in Moss Side. I decided very quickly that if anybody wanted a hotdog from me now, there was no charge. Fortunately, they could see I’d been dumped on, took pity on me and allowed me to make my exit unscathed.

Later that evening sitting in a peaceful pub and watching the news reports of riots two miles away, the reality of what had just happened sank in. It was my first experience of being thoroughly let down and abandoned by an adult authority figure. It was an important lesson. Since then, I’ve learned to value loyalty in a crisis very highly.

Those of us with a few grey hairs are inevitably adult authority figures for other people. I think maybe the highest calling for those of us who have acquired the years, is to be calm and loyal in a crisis. For younger people looking on, it really counts.

David Knight
Vicar of Fletching, Piltdown and Sheffield Park