Big Lily - The Headscarf Hero
"Over the years, some 6,000 men perished from the Hull fishing fleet, which brought in over 25% of Britain's catch."
These days, the Labour Party has abandoned ordinary working folk. Taken over by left-wing Puritans with Oxbridge educations, it doesn't get its hands dirty. This "right-on" metropolitan elite is too busy labelling people as racists, bigots or other "isms" to deal with real issues. Helping ordinary working people is too hard. Especially when Corbyn and his mates spend all their time policing language in case anyone gets offended.
It's time for ordinary working people to stand up for themselves. Diana Abbott, Corbyn and the rest are too concerned with dictating how you should think and speak. Compelled language is their forte, not addressing genuine social injustice. For example, you are not entitled to seek the best education at public schools - that's Labour Party doctrine. However, it's fine and dandy for the kids of Labour leaders to go there. The stench of hypocrisy hangs over the Labour movement.
If folks are looking for a template for action, they should look no further than Lillian Bilocca. The movement she led might get hijacked by a celebrity or shameless politician seeking publicity these days. Look at Grenville Tower. We had a steady parade of "look at me, I'm angry" types seeking a moment in the media. After polishing their credentials as social justice warriors, they'd hop in their car to disappear.
In 1968, the Hull fishing fleet lost three trawlers in three weeks. Fifty-eight men found a watery grave, while 58 families suffered in silence. I remember sitting in a hushed school assembly as the ships' names were read out. Even at the age of eight, you sensed the community's grief.
Elsewhere in the world, the revolution kicked off with protests and rallies. The streets of Paris were ablaze. The Vietnam War continued to escalate as the American public awoke to that tragedy, and US campuses erupted in violence.
Meanwhile, in the city of Hull, another struggle was kicking off. A group of working-class women decided they'd had enough of lax safety on trawlers. Sweeping forward to lead them came the redoubtable Lillian Bilocca. She worked skinning the fish her husband and son brought back from far icy waters.
She said to her daughter, "Something has to get done. I'm starting a petition to get the gaffers to make them trawlers safer. That could be our Ernie or your Dad out there, God forbid."
She petitioned, wrote to the papers, organised meetings, and mobilised a grassroots campaign. Then, she confronted the trawler bosses. They weren't ready for what hit them.
The trawlers were put to sea undermanned, without safety equipment or a radio operator, and the crews faced terrible risks. The men who worked on the trawlers were zero-hour workers who paid for their protective gear and bedding.
The trawler owners didn't care. They saw risk as part of the business—a comfortable position sitting behind a desk in a warm office. The arctic seas off Iceland proved dangerous for decades, although the owners were willfully blind.
Untrained crews, a lack of signalling equipment for emergencies, and unstable ships added to the risks. Under these circumstances, heavy seas in the winter months proved fatal. Teams needed to continually remove ice to prevent rolling ships from turning turtles.
Over the years, some 6,000 men perished from the Hull fishing fleet, which brought in over 25% of Britain's catch. Saint Andrews Dock was home to 150 deep-sea trawlers, the world's largest fleet. At the time, it was the most dangerous civilian profession on Earth.
The owners reacted with disdain to Lily and her friends's campaign, dismissing the women as hysterical. Their men proved equally critical. In the macho world of the hardy fisherman, having women intervening was a massive loss of face. They didn't like their women-folk being so assertive.
To gain media attention, Lily pulled a brilliant stunt. She told reporters, "I'll be on that dock tomorrow, checking that ships are properly crewed and have radio operators on them. I'll jump aboard myself to stop 'em going out that dock if I have to."
And she did. As a ship passed through the lock towards the open water, she asked if they had a radio operator. If they replied no, she sought to board the boat. Police had to restrain her as she threw herself off the dockside. Images of "Big Lily" and her headscarf heroes flashed across the country. She'd scored a significant victory over the owners.
Lily next threatened to picket the Prime Minister's private residence if her demands were ignored. She achieved a meeting with Prime Minister Wilson, who subsequently granted all of their requests. The result was described as one of the biggest and most successful civil actions of the 20th century. Lily and her ladies made the headlines of national newspapers, pushing the Vietnam War off the front page.
But Lily paid the price. She lost her job, while many in her community turned against her. Her actions had held the fishing fleet in port, and men losing pay didn't take kindly to that. One of her group was assaulted, and death threats came in. The police intervened to protect Lily.
In typical fashion, the spineless London-based tabloids then turned on her. They portrayed her as uncouth and foul-mouthed and questioned her dress sense. The trawler owners fed the media lies in a concerted effort to ruin Lily.
But you can't take away the fact that the changes she forced saved hundreds of men and boys from a terrible death. In contrast, the inertia of the trawler owners will always be their shame.
By 1975, the Hull fishing industry was doomed. Iceland declared a 200-mile limit, cutting off the abundant fishing grounds. From then on, the ships and the life that surrounded them disappeared.
I met women like "Big Lily" when I worked the summer months at the Birds Eye factory in Hull. Lumpy Hessle Road lassies with a sharp tongue and a stern demeanour, all wrapped around a heart of gold. These women frightened me. You'd daren't upset them; otherwise, a belt would come your way. The trawler owners didn't stand a chance.
Memories of Lily and her group faded until recent times. Historians are now recording her achievements as plays and books emerge. Hull's status as a 'City of Culture' spurred that process as people reflected on their real heroes. Lily proved you could make a difference. She died in 1988. Why the women never received an award remains a disgrace. As was said then, "She achieved more in days than the unions, politicians and trawler owners had done in decades."
Nonetheless, "Big Lily" earned her place as a true local hero.
July 2018
It's time for ordinary working people to stand up for themselves. Diana Abbott, Corbyn and the rest are too concerned with dictating how you should think and speak. Compelled language is their forte, not addressing genuine social injustice. For example, you are not entitled to seek the best education at public schools - that's Labour Party doctrine. However, it's fine and dandy for the kids of Labour leaders to go there. The stench of hypocrisy hangs over the Labour movement.
If folks are looking for a template for action, they should look no further than Lillian Bilocca. The movement she led might get hijacked by a celebrity or shameless politician seeking publicity these days. Look at Grenville Tower. We had a steady parade of "look at me, I'm angry" types seeking a moment in the media. After polishing their credentials as social justice warriors, they'd hop in their car to disappear.
In 1968, the Hull fishing fleet lost three trawlers in three weeks. Fifty-eight men found a watery grave, while 58 families suffered in silence. I remember sitting in a hushed school assembly as the ships' names were read out. Even at the age of eight, you sensed the community's grief.
Elsewhere in the world, the revolution kicked off with protests and rallies. The streets of Paris were ablaze. The Vietnam War continued to escalate as the American public awoke to that tragedy, and US campuses erupted in violence.
Meanwhile, in the city of Hull, another struggle was kicking off. A group of working-class women decided they'd had enough of lax safety on trawlers. Sweeping forward to lead them came the redoubtable Lillian Bilocca. She worked skinning the fish her husband and son brought back from far icy waters.
She said to her daughter, "Something has to get done. I'm starting a petition to get the gaffers to make them trawlers safer. That could be our Ernie or your Dad out there, God forbid."
She petitioned, wrote to the papers, organised meetings, and mobilised a grassroots campaign. Then, she confronted the trawler bosses. They weren't ready for what hit them.
The trawlers were put to sea undermanned, without safety equipment or a radio operator, and the crews faced terrible risks. The men who worked on the trawlers were zero-hour workers who paid for their protective gear and bedding.
The trawler owners didn't care. They saw risk as part of the business—a comfortable position sitting behind a desk in a warm office. The arctic seas off Iceland proved dangerous for decades, although the owners were willfully blind.
Untrained crews, a lack of signalling equipment for emergencies, and unstable ships added to the risks. Under these circumstances, heavy seas in the winter months proved fatal. Teams needed to continually remove ice to prevent rolling ships from turning turtles.
Over the years, some 6,000 men perished from the Hull fishing fleet, which brought in over 25% of Britain's catch. Saint Andrews Dock was home to 150 deep-sea trawlers, the world's largest fleet. At the time, it was the most dangerous civilian profession on Earth.
The owners reacted with disdain to Lily and her friends's campaign, dismissing the women as hysterical. Their men proved equally critical. In the macho world of the hardy fisherman, having women intervening was a massive loss of face. They didn't like their women-folk being so assertive.
To gain media attention, Lily pulled a brilliant stunt. She told reporters, "I'll be on that dock tomorrow, checking that ships are properly crewed and have radio operators on them. I'll jump aboard myself to stop 'em going out that dock if I have to."
And she did. As a ship passed through the lock towards the open water, she asked if they had a radio operator. If they replied no, she sought to board the boat. Police had to restrain her as she threw herself off the dockside. Images of "Big Lily" and her headscarf heroes flashed across the country. She'd scored a significant victory over the owners.
Lily next threatened to picket the Prime Minister's private residence if her demands were ignored. She achieved a meeting with Prime Minister Wilson, who subsequently granted all of their requests. The result was described as one of the biggest and most successful civil actions of the 20th century. Lily and her ladies made the headlines of national newspapers, pushing the Vietnam War off the front page.
But Lily paid the price. She lost her job, while many in her community turned against her. Her actions had held the fishing fleet in port, and men losing pay didn't take kindly to that. One of her group was assaulted, and death threats came in. The police intervened to protect Lily.
In typical fashion, the spineless London-based tabloids then turned on her. They portrayed her as uncouth and foul-mouthed and questioned her dress sense. The trawler owners fed the media lies in a concerted effort to ruin Lily.
But you can't take away the fact that the changes she forced saved hundreds of men and boys from a terrible death. In contrast, the inertia of the trawler owners will always be their shame.
By 1975, the Hull fishing industry was doomed. Iceland declared a 200-mile limit, cutting off the abundant fishing grounds. From then on, the ships and the life that surrounded them disappeared.
I met women like "Big Lily" when I worked the summer months at the Birds Eye factory in Hull. Lumpy Hessle Road lassies with a sharp tongue and a stern demeanour, all wrapped around a heart of gold. These women frightened me. You'd daren't upset them; otherwise, a belt would come your way. The trawler owners didn't stand a chance.
Memories of Lily and her group faded until recent times. Historians are now recording her achievements as plays and books emerge. Hull's status as a 'City of Culture' spurred that process as people reflected on their real heroes. Lily proved you could make a difference. She died in 1988. Why the women never received an award remains a disgrace. As was said then, "She achieved more in days than the unions, politicians and trawler owners had done in decades."
Nonetheless, "Big Lily" earned her place as a true local hero.
July 2018
Copyright © 2015