Party Conference Time

This used to be my favourite time of the year. I would have to go to a health farm (don't laugh) for a few days before the marathon. I would begin at TUC conference, which was my favourite.....over about 10 years I got to know all the union leaders, and became great friends with...don't faint.. Arthur Scargill. I knew he had a reputation for hating the press...but I went to sit next to him, introduced myself, and said I'd be watching him with massive lens, and was that OK? he was so surprised I'd asked him first that for years we were friends. Until my newspaper went to Wapping, and then even lovely Neil Kinnock wouldn't see me anymore. But back to the season I miss so much. Then the Liberals, apart from Jo Grimond (remember??)...very boring..but it was always terrific to meet up with all the radio and TV commentators, and a terrific bunch of political editors and commentators. We were all very friendly, but I think I was the only one of the photographers who was really interested in what was going on. I was certainly the only woman photographer at that time, also there was little security, which was all changed when the Brighton bomb went off. Then it was the Labour Party, it was brilliant, there were always rows..and I knew exactly what was going on so my pictures tried to tell a story. Which was appreciated by my Editor the very great and wonderful Harry Evans. I was present when David Owen, Shirley Williams and Co....were having little huddles, I photo'd that. ...... and this was the begining of the SDP. So the following year there was another conference to cover. The SDP. Then the Tory Party....BRILLIANT...there they all were, me with my new Nikon 300mm lens, first in UK, brilliant resolution, being teased by all the other photographers, saying I was mad. It was unbearably heavy, and I always wore high heels (I'm paying for that idiocy now) Apart from pouncing on all the cabinet all in front of me, I was photo'ing Margaret Thatcher. My newspaper had "put" their only woman photographer with her, the future Prime Minister...and the of course the PM.....so all these funny, sarcastic photographs would be spread out Sunday after Sunday.....Harry Evans killing himself laughing. It was such a great time, the cameraderie.....ghastly hotels.....total exhaustion. It all ended for me when the bomb went off in Brighton. I'll write about that one day. Everything changed....high security....many more photographers jostling for the best seat...which I always bagged as I was always first inside conference halls....I had to be, they were all huge tall men who used to push me around.......of course very quickly they all had that wonderful huge lens they had teased be about. One day at the Picture Desk, I got out this lens and was checking it out when I held it to focus ... ...and shock..sadness..horror....I couldn't hold it anymore. So I never went to another conference. The last time I saw Thatcher was when I went to see her at Downing St. a few days before she was disposed of. Someone had sent 5000 roses...five thousand. It was very sad actually, I'd followed her to various summits....seen how brave she was after the bomb at Brighton....she knew me quite well, but never knew my name. I sold my beautiful lens.