On tomorrow's day of destiny, I appeal to all fellow Northerners: Keep the Faith!
Vote Labour to keep alive the vision of Denis Healey, Barbara Castle and Harold Wilson for a better society.
Generations of working people in Lancashire, Yorkshire and the North-East fought to sustain that dream and turn it into reality. Equality for women, massive council house building and increased social security.
We supported New Labour, enabling Gordon Brown to pursue the goal, investing hugely in hospitals, schools, pensions and a surer start for kids.
Let’s not abandon that loyalty now, when it’s needed most to save the NHS and alleviate hardship among the working poor, pensioners and children.
Believe me, there are more important things in life than Brexit, when it might happen or even if it might happen. Like, how we live and who we trust to govern the country.
And by those counts, this gang of lying, scheming Tories, the off-scourings of Eton and the City, have no claim on our votes.
Remember (as I do), the Thatcher years when our gas, water and electricity were sold off to speculators, mostly foreign. Remember, the lads throwing themselves off the Tyne Bridge because they couldn’t find work.
Remember the hundreds of thousands of miners, engineers, shipyard workers and utility employees who lost their jobs in the 13 wasted years of Thatcher’s reign.
And the equally huge numbers of teachers, nurses, town hall staff, prison officers, youth and social workers and probation officers made redundant in the nine wasted years of Cameron, May and now Johnson governments.
Tory rule has made Britain an unhappier place to live. Homelessness is on the increase, rough sleeping is out of control. Fewer and fewer people have a secure job, as the so-called “gig economy” booms, while the super-rich hide their wealth in tax havens overseas.
Do you really want this misery to continue – and get worse? Five more years of it? Just because Boris, the Prince of Deceit, promises a rapid Brexit?
He’s been on a premature triumphal tour of the North in recent weeks, smirking at the prospect of winning seats in Labour’s heartlands with his brand of snake-oil salesmanship.
Let’s wipe the grin off his face with a staunch adherence to the party that has delivered for us, and deserves the chance to do so again.
I turned 76 yesterday. Today might be the last time I can do this. Please hear me.
