Sorry to hear of the death of former energy minister Malcolm Wicks. As a new reporter in Croydon, I was introduced to him, then a Labour hopeful, by a union official and councillor who I regularly pestered for yarns, one Peter Spalding.
They would give me their party spiel for my paper and then we would relax in the Labour club and put the world to rights – even though they knew I was closer to the LibDems. I wish more politicians were unconditionally friendly.
Peter became a good pal. After I said my goodbyes and left Croydon, Malcolm was elected for Croydon North West and Peter went on to become mayor.
Years later, I bumped into Malcolm again in the unlikeliest place – on Cromwell Street in Stornoway. He was here on some visit with our then MP, Calum Macdonald. I think he remembered.
R.I.P. Malcolm
Sorry to hear Iain.
I am almost sure I was with Malcolm on Cromwell Street that day, before heading out to the College.
Iain,
I was very pleased to see you pay tribute to Malcolm Wicks. He was a hugely decent as well as able man and his consistent 50% plus share of the vote in Croydon North shows the regard in which he was held.
I’m prompted to drop you a note because I remember very clearly your encounter with Malcolm Wicks in Cromwell Street. It would have been in 1995 or thereabouts, a couple of years after his first election and shortly after he had successfully steered through the Commons his private members bill on carer assessment and recognition, no mean feat in itself.
He came to Stornoway at Calum Macdonald’s invitation to address a small conference we had organised at the Comhairle on carers’ needs, sponsored by Community Care magazine. It was an absolutely stunning summer’s day (and the weather remained so for the rest of the weekend which was spent in Harris); Malcolm and his wife Margaret had got up at about 4am to catch the flight from London to Glasgow, and then on to Stornoway on the first flight of the day.
We stopped off in the old An Lanntair for a coffee and then went for a wee wander along Cromwell Street. Amidst the general chit-chat of the day, Malcolm commented on how they had had an early start to the day, and with the weather in Stornoway, he felt as if he had travelled half-way round the world to another country in a different climate zone.
At that point we were outside Murdo Maclean’s shop. On cue, this hand tapped him on the shoulder and a voice said, “Good Morning Mr Wicks, Iain Maciver from the Croydon Guardian!”
Malcolm Smith