Them personally no , but a few Rom and how some of them live (not just here but abroad as well ) , yes their hardly saints but they all different .... and most of them hate pikies ;) .
A good friend of mine his dad for many many years was a liaison between local council and the Rom who came down to hockley and few other local places and they never had any major issues . Mind you GHG are you old enough to remember teh first wave of closing their sites etc in teh 60's and 70's ??
No, I'm old but not quite that old but I can speak from experience. My fathers best friend was a chap called Albert Stone, a bear of a man who crossed the river Rhine with his rifle above his head during the rescue mission of Arnhem in WW11. He reminded me of Harry Worth but was a fearsome fighter and was not to be messed with. His wife was once ganged up on by several of the women in the street so when he come home from work he visited everyone of the husbands to sort it out and left the lot spreadeagled on their front gardens. Albert was a gypsy, english to the core but with a romany background. I reckon his heritage had skipped a generation or two because he hadn't the dark skinned looks rather a fair skinned ginger haired complection and suffered terribly from sun burn. Those old enough to remember will know that Eastwood was basicly fields back in the late 50's and 60's and had quite a large gypsy community, note this now, gypsy community, not traveller.
Alberts mum and dad had a small holding over that way, nothing special, just a caravan parked in a field with a couple of horses grazing and some chickens which were fenced off. They had been there for years and were no bother to anybody, the council left them be and the locals did likewise. The place was tidy and everyone was happy with the arrangement. One day, three caravans turned up and set up camp at the bottom of his field. It turned out that they were Irish Travellers. Alberts parents weren't bothered as they were well away from them so didn't cause a commotion. A couple of days later he noticed his chicken population was somewhat deplited and putting two and two together and went to have a word with the new arrivals. He was threatened and told his fortune so he phoned his son. Albert duly turned up and went to have a quite word and for his trouble was surrounded and told in no uncertain terms that if he didn't depart post haste then he was looking at a serious good hiding and to make funeral arrangements for his parents. Albert backed off, then returned in the early hours and petrol bombed all caravans and laid out two of them when they came out dazed and chocking with a pickaxe handle. They weren't there the following morning.
Albert brought his kids up right. He taught them right from wrong and God help them if they crossed the line. I was babysat by two of them Sharon and David, they were trustworthy and respectful. David was a grafter. He would work all day every day and turn his hand to anything given half the chance but he was a little sensitive. He would take things to heart to easily which put off potential employers. He had been out off work for a while and was desperate to get back into the swing of things. He kept badgering a local builder for a start, his name escapes me but I do remember my dad telling me he was nasty piece of work who would take advantage of a bloke down on his luck at the drop of a hat. David kept on at him for a start in The Woodmans Pub in Thundersley one night but the nasty git scuppered him then told him to F off. David lost his rag and told him he was off to get a gun and shoot him. Said builder told him to do his worse and just to add injury to insult slagged off his family as well. David retired to the other bar, stewed on what was said and got himself rotton drunk, then he went home and got the shotgun. They found the body in the street and the head in a garden in Queensmere the next day.
David went on the run but after a phone call home to his dad he handed his self in and got 14 years. He escaped twice and was recaptured and had time added. He escaped a third time and has never been caught. Rumours abound as to where he is but I'm hardly going to mention that. My point is these where decent people and apart from a tragic drunken moment from one of them I would trust my kids lifes to these people.
Fast forward to my days at Johnson Controls in Progress Road. I worked with a Steve Bibby, Bibby being a huge gypsy family who have settled in Leigh, lovely bloke and a season ticket holder at Southend. Also I worked with a lad called Danny Griesley who married into the Buckey family, another massive gypsy clan. Danny told me a great story about the day he asked for old man Buckeys daughters hand in marriage. Old man Buckey stood up and asked Danny to follow him. He took him upstairs to the bathroom where he kept his gun cabinet.
'Pick out a gun you really like the look of' said the father of the future bride.
'That's a nice one' says Danny pointing at a purdy side be side.
'Thats the one I'll shoot you with if you ever upset my daughter' smiles the future father of the bride.'Wellcome to the family'
And in Dannys own words ' I have been happly married ever since'
And now we fast track to the present but 10 years in the past. My first experience of Dale Farm was collecting a 3 month old BMW 7 Series with contaminated fuel. I drove onto the site and was instantly surrounded by swarms of kids who were straight into my lockers after anything they could have. Lucky for me the owner of the vehicle ****ed them off so I could load the motor in peace and take it to the dealership. I get to the dealership and a fitter straight away dips the tank and reveals that the motor is running on Kerosine. That's one down from rocket fuel, burns out the injectors and generally hands out a £5'000 bill before you start. Not surprisingly, most dealers wont touch it and muggings here has to take it back to the owner and explain why. They dont tend to call the dogs off when you return the vehicle in the same **** state you collected in.
I got promoted!! Surprised? Not as much as me but be as that may I was put in charge of Parking & Storage. And then I had full on close and personal with the likes of the Sheridens and Mc Carthys of Dale Farm. Dont get me wrong, I had to deal with plenty of the home grown ratbags of Basildon and Southend but the Dale Farm, Meadow Lane and Homefields Avenue lot were in a leauge of their own. I was, deep breath, threatened with death, broken arms, legs, neck, back, spleen and fingers. I was going to have my liver punched and kicked out as was my bollocks, lungs, guts, spine, kidneys and shins, my family was threatened, my house was going to be burnt down my neighbours houses were going to burnt down and, in their words, I couldn't do a thing about it'.
Redgrave and her Revolunity Workers Party bollocks doesn't know squat about living in and around these traveller sites and if as she has quoted that she is prepared tp live amongted them then crack on but just make sure she is there with the cameras rolling when they set light to the barracades or the cabbage and potatoes lose their appeal. Hampstead might well be calling her home by then.
