November 2004, written at University for a mens' magazine
‘THEY PLAYED WITH SUCH PASSION THAT THEY JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF MOLLYS’
Since the days of playing in a small Los Angeles bar, Flogging Molly have seen members leave, missed their children growing up and endured long American and European tours. Now, after eight years, they feel they’re closing on in fame.
“This is like deja-vu. I just answered this question two minutes ago”, bassist Nathan Maxwell jokes, as I repeat my opening questions having finally realised my microphone was off. Nathan, Dennis Casey, Matt Hensley, and Rob Schmidt and I burst into a chorus of laughter. As we restart the interview, it’s not just the opening questions that have a distinct echo of the past. Colchester Arts Centre, the venue for tonight’s gig, feels to the seven much like Molly Malone’s, the bar where it all began. “It’s cool to come and touch base with here. Colchester’s a pretty old-school town and we’ll rock old-school tonight”, Maxwell continues. “We’ve never played here before and it feels fucking great to be here!”, Hensley says, as he shuts a laptop perched on his lap.
Most of the eight hundred or so here for tonight’s gig are from the Sixth Form College, a towering building that you can’t fail to notice. The Roman walls, now in scattered pieces like a lost treasure, are still standing, the college sat just behind them. For tonight, the generals in town are the Californians. “I didn’t know the college was right by here”, lead guitarist Casey says, “maybe we can make some Molly’s army converts!” Most of the college kids admit they’re here because of the support, The Streetdogs. Before the gig, the band tell me Kings’ outfit “will take over the Bosstones’ punk crown, no doubt”.
Having been greeted by their tour manager Joe, the Los Angeles seven are slumped backstage on a large, but rather worn, red couch in a makeshift kitchen. A small fruit bowl sits on the counter at the back of a room. It’s still largely untouched except for an apple which Hensley now sits eating. As I look around for signs of the customary cans of Guinness associated with the band, they’re nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re replaced with a few crates of water. “Taking a break from the hard stuff, Dave?” I somehow manage to yell amongst the deafening noise of drums and guitars. “They’re on the corner of the stage, I drink them during our sets. Gives you that extra bit of energy”, he replies.
Within a mile of home? Right now, it feels more like an eternity probably. A long American tour, finished less than a week ago, is only now beginning to wear off. “We’re pretty jetlagged, and I didn’t even unpack my stuff until the night before leaving for England” Maxwell says. Most of the band have young children, and Casey proudly announces to me that “I found out a few days ago I’m going to be a dad!” Perhaps for now, home feels like an eternity away. “I really wanted to take my daughter trick or treating”, Schmidt says, “but we left on Halloween, it sucked”.
Drummer George Schwindt though reminds them of the harsh reality they face. “Not to sound arrogant”, he says, “but we’re one of the hardest working bands out there. We can be on the road for four and five months, with a few weeks to recover. It’s tough going but if we want to make it, you have to make sacrifices”.
The band’s very name makes you think of a brutal lashing dished not only to their fans, but themselves. Maxwell merely reiterates the thought when he explains “when the band formed in 1996, it was just a few local guys trying to make some money that a few hundred like myself would go and see. But they played with such passion that they just beat the shit out of Mollys’. By the end of the shows, everyone was buzzing, so Flogging Molly was a pretty appropriate choice”.
The tour will last well into December, visiting Britain, Sweden and Germany. It’s a hectic three-week schedule with no days off, as they’ve quickly learnt. “We’re off to Folkestone straight away to go to Holland after tonight’s gig”, Schmidt says, “so I’ll probably read”. After visiting Holland for a few days, the band returns for a five-show tour of England. And when you’re in England, Hensley says, there’s only one thing you can do: eat a mass of curry. “We come back here for six days straight, and I can guarantee Nath and I will eat six days of curry”. With that, the conversation turns to yet more mentions of food. Or rather, a random series of cravings. “English fish and chips- you can’t go wrong there!” Casey laughs, as Schmidt pleads to me to take the band to an old place for “haddock and a mountain of mushy peas!”
English exports are more than fish and chips though. With King being born and raised a Dubliner and even with the others, they admit Britain was a huge influence on them. “The two-tone era of ska, and bands like The Beatles, The Stones, The Clash…I admire them a lot. A lot of Californians saw it as something totally new and radical, and I guess that’s what we’re trying to do- take elements of the old, and take it apart”.
It might have sold more than one hundred and fifty thousand copies on its first day of release, but ‘Within a Mile of Home’ hasn’t been without its critics. While most praised the band for giving a more rounded and traditional sound, one review called it “too big an attempt to visit its roots. Schwindt says the criticism is noted. “We play in Dublin a lot, but it’s the only place in Ireland we’re followed. I guess some people think Irish music should be left in its old form”. Maxwell though remains upbeat. “At the end of the day”, he says “we just want to play music. Wherever there’s a microphone, we’ll play”.
The line-up’s changed considerably over the years. Maxwell didn’t join the band until 2003. Only King, Bridget Regan and Schwindt have survived over the eight years. Now though, King feels he’s got the winning formula. “We’ve had a few changes over the years, but it happens. We don’t see much of our families, and some people find that too tough”. When you ask Maxwell, you can tell it’s hard going. “We all have young kids, and we’re missing a big part of their lives. But if you want to be successful, you’ve got to put your feelings aside”. Hensley nods in agreement. “But it helps that we’re all so close. The support we give each other’s a huge strength of the band”.
Just as the family of Flogging Molly has grown in strength, their following continues to gain in number. Maxwells’ eyes light up when he remembers the recent show in Seattle. “It’s great to see the cross-generations at shows. Mums are raising their kids on Flogging Molly, and passing it on to their sons and daughters. At the show there was an old lady, must have been about sixty. She got straight in the pit and was getting battered, but just kept getting up. She lasted like, five songs, and was loving every minute of it!” Judging by the number of people at America’s Warped Tour shows, held every August by skating giants Vans, she’s not the only one. “We had about fifty thousand at those shows”, Schmidt says. “I’d say we had a good ten or so thousand at least of that come see us on our stage”.
A far cry from tonight, then. The Arts Centre, an old church, has its stained glass windows still there, shining through and giving a charismatic blue glow over the stage. The place is so small that there’s barely room for the bar, which serves only a handful of drinks, mainly local ales. The barrier’s so thin it almost hugs the stage, and it’s largely down to the three bouncers to control any signs of trouble. During the support, a few manage to stage-dive, collapsing in a drunken heap somewhere between the mass and a spilt beer. Maybe too close for some? “Well, we all have our preferences on who we play to”, says Maxwell. “I want to play to as many as possible, so our open-air shows are great”. Hensley puts down the apple he’s been sat eating and shakes his head. “Nah, you’ve got to have the intimacy of a tight crowd. It’s great to play to big crowds, but we’re a pub band and I like to have the crowd right in my face. Up on a festival stage, it’s harder to project your energy across”.
Schwindt, the mellow drummer reminds the band that, despite their success, the tours haven’t all been memorable. “We played at Gaelic Fest in Boston with Dropkick Murphys. It’s a nice atmosphere and all, but hardly anyone showed up. It was a huge disappointment”.
Touring with one of the biggest punk bands in America though can’t be too bad, right? “The Murphys are cool guys”, Maxwell says “Very easy-going and hilarious to hang out with”. Comparisons have been made between the two, with both having a heavy rock influence with traditional Irish thrown in. But would Flogging Molly rather be known for originality? “I think our stuff is unique, but if we’re getting compared to them”, Maxwell says, “I’m not going to complain. They’ve set the standards of Irish punk for years, so if we can get anywhere near their recognition, I’ll be happy”. There’s one line they certainly won’t be going down. “What the fuck’s going on with European stuff right now?” Casey asks. “It’s appalling”, Hensley says, “what the hell are the Cheeky Girls about?”
Any doubts of what Flogging Molly is ‘about’ now are soon removed through a blistering opening night. The 2-hour set, a mixture of old classics like ‘selfish man’ are combined with helpings from ‘Within a Mile of Home’. Towards the end, there’s chaos in the moshpit, as more people fall victim to too much drinking and a soaking sweat-stained floor. It seems the jet-lagged crew aren’t the first to fall flat on the decks tonight.
Saturday, 22 August 2009
Flogging Molly interview
November 2004
‘THEY PLAYED WITH SUCH PASSION THAT THEY JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF MOLLYS’
Since the days of playing in a small Los Angeles bar, Flogging Molly have seen members leave, missed their children growing up and endured long American and European tours. Now, after eight years, they feel they’re closing on in fame.
“This is like deja-vu. I just answered this question two minutes ago”, bassist Nathan Maxwell jokes, as I repeat my opening questions having finally realised my microphone was off. Nathan, Dennis Casey, Matt Hensley, and Rob Schmidt and I burst into a chorus of laughter. As we restart the interview, it’s not just the opening questions that have a distinct echo of the past. Colchester Arts Centre, the venue for tonight’s gig, feels to the seven much like Molly Malone’s, the bar where it all began. “It’s cool to come and touch base with here. Colchester’s a pretty old-school town and we’ll rock old-school tonight”, Maxwell continues. “We’ve never played here before and it feels fucking great to be here!”, Hensley says, as he shuts a laptop perched on his lap.
Most of the eight hundred or so here for tonight’s gig are from the Sixth Form College, a towering building that you can’t fail to notice. The Roman walls, now in scattered pieces like a lost treasure, are still standing, the college sat just behind them. For tonight, the generals in town are the Californians. “I didn’t know the college was right by here”, lead guitarist Casey says, “maybe we can make some Molly’s army converts!” Most of the college kids admit they’re here because of the support, The Streetdogs. Before the gig, the band tell me Kings’ outfit “will take over the Bosstones’ punk crown, no doubt”.
Having been greeted by their tour manager Joe, the Los Angeles seven are slumped backstage on a large, but rather worn, red couch in a makeshift kitchen. A small fruit bowl sits on the counter at the back of a room. It’s still largely untouched except for an apple which Hensley now sits eating. As I look around for signs of the customary cans of Guinness associated with the band, they’re nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re replaced with a few crates of water. “Taking a break from the hard stuff, Dave?” I somehow manage to yell amongst the deafening noise of drums and guitars. “They’re on the corner of the stage, I drink them during our sets. Gives you that extra bit of energy”, he replies.
Within a mile of home? Right now, it feels more like an eternity probably. A long American tour, finished less than a week ago, is only now beginning to wear off. “We’re pretty jetlagged, and I didn’t even unpack my stuff until the night before leaving for England” Maxwell says. Most of the band have young children, and Casey proudly announces to me that “I found out a few days ago I’m going to be a dad!” Perhaps for now, home feels like an eternity away. “I really wanted to take my daughter trick or treating”, Schmidt says, “but we left on Halloween, it sucked”.
Drummer George Schwindt though reminds them of the harsh reality they face. “Not to sound arrogant”, he says, “but we’re one of the hardest working bands out there. We can be on the road for four and five months, with a few weeks to recover. It’s tough going but if we want to make it, you have to make sacrifices”.
The band’s very name makes you think of a brutal lashing dished not only to their fans, but themselves. Maxwell merely reiterates the thought when he explains “when the band formed in 1996, it was just a few local guys trying to make some money that a few hundred like myself would go and see. But they played with such passion that they just beat the shit out of Mollys’. By the end of the shows, everyone was buzzing, so Flogging Molly was a pretty appropriate choice”.
The tour will last well into December, visiting Britain, Sweden and Germany. It’s a hectic three-week schedule with no days off, as they’ve quickly learnt. “We’re off to Folkestone straight away to go to Holland after tonight’s gig”, Schmidt says, “so I’ll probably read”. After visiting Holland for a few days, the band returns for a five-show tour of England. And when you’re in England, Hensley says, there’s only one thing you can do: eat a mass of curry. “We come back here for six days straight, and I can guarantee Nath and I will eat six days of curry”. With that, the conversation turns to yet more mentions of food. Or rather, a random series of cravings. “English fish and chips- you can’t go wrong there!” Casey laughs, as Schmidt pleads to me to take the band to an old place for “haddock and a mountain of mushy peas!”
English exports are more than fish and chips though. With King being born and raised a Dubliner and even with the others, they admit Britain was a huge influence on them. “The two-tone era of ska, and bands like The Beatles, The Stones, The Clash…I admire them a lot. A lot of Californians saw it as something totally new and radical, and I guess that’s what we’re trying to do- take elements of the old, and take it apart”.
It might have sold more than one hundred and fifty thousand copies on its first day of release, but ‘Within a Mile of Home’ hasn’t been without its critics. While most praised the band for giving a more rounded and traditional sound, one review called it “too big an attempt to visit its roots. Schwindt says the criticism is noted. “We play in Dublin a lot, but it’s the only place in Ireland we’re followed. I guess some people think Irish music should be left in its old form”. Maxwell though remains upbeat. “At the end of the day”, he says “we just want to play music. Wherever there’s a microphone, we’ll play”.
The line-up’s changed considerably over the years. Maxwell didn’t join the band until 2003. Only King, Bridget Regan and Schwindt have survived over the eight years. Now though, King feels he’s got the winning formula. “We’ve had a few changes over the years, but it happens. We don’t see much of our families, and some people find that too tough”. When you ask Maxwell, you can tell it’s hard going. “We all have young kids, and we’re missing a big part of their lives. But if you want to be successful, you’ve got to put your feelings aside”. Hensley nods in agreement. “But it helps that we’re all so close. The support we give each other’s a huge strength of the band”.
Just as the family of Flogging Molly has grown in strength, their following continues to gain in number. Maxwells’ eyes light up when he remembers the recent show in Seattle. “It’s great to see the cross-generations at shows. Mums are raising their kids on Flogging Molly, and passing it on to their sons and daughters. At the show there was an old lady, must have been about sixty. She got straight in the pit and was getting battered, but just kept getting up. She lasted like, five songs, and was loving every minute of it!” Judging by the number of people at America’s Warped Tour shows, held every August by skating giants Vans, she’s not the only one. “We had about fifty thousand at those shows”, Schmidt says. “I’d say we had a good ten or so thousand at least of that come see us on our stage”.
A far cry from tonight, then. The Arts Centre, an old church, has its stained glass windows still there, shining through and giving a charismatic blue glow over the stage. The place is so small that there’s barely room for the bar, which serves only a handful of drinks, mainly local ales. The barrier’s so thin it almost hugs the stage, and it’s largely down to the three bouncers to control any signs of trouble. During the support, a few manage to stage-dive, collapsing in a drunken heap somewhere between the mass and a spilt beer. Maybe too close for some? “Well, we all have our preferences on who we play to”, says Maxwell. “I want to play to as many as possible, so our open-air shows are great”. Hensley puts down the apple he’s been sat eating and shakes his head. “Nah, you’ve got to have the intimacy of a tight crowd. It’s great to play to big crowds, but we’re a pub band and I like to have the crowd right in my face. Up on a festival stage, it’s harder to project your energy across”.
Schwindt, the mellow drummer reminds the band that, despite their success, the tours haven’t all been memorable. “We played at Gaelic Fest in Boston with Dropkick Murphys. It’s a nice atmosphere and all, but hardly anyone showed up. It was a huge disappointment”.
Touring with one of the biggest punk bands in America though can’t be too bad, right? “The Murphys are cool guys”, Maxwell says “Very easy-going and hilarious to hang out with”. Comparisons have been made between the two, with both having a heavy rock influence with traditional Irish thrown in. But would Flogging Molly rather be known for originality? “I think our stuff is unique, but if we’re getting compared to them”, Maxwell says, “I’m not going to complain. They’ve set the standards of Irish punk for years, so if we can get anywhere near their recognition, I’ll be happy”. There’s one line they certainly won’t be going down. “What the fuck’s going on with European stuff right now?” Casey asks. “It’s appalling”, Hensley says, “what the hell are the Cheeky Girls about?”
Any doubts of what Flogging Molly is ‘about’ now are soon removed through a blistering opening night. The 2-hour set, a mixture of old classics like ‘selfish man’ are combined with helpings from ‘Within a Mile of Home’. Towards the end, there’s chaos in the moshpit, as more people fall victim to too much drinking and a soaking sweat-stained floor. It seems the jet-lagged crew aren’t the first to fall flat on the decks tonight.
‘THEY PLAYED WITH SUCH PASSION THAT THEY JUST BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF MOLLYS’
Since the days of playing in a small Los Angeles bar, Flogging Molly have seen members leave, missed their children growing up and endured long American and European tours. Now, after eight years, they feel they’re closing on in fame.
“This is like deja-vu. I just answered this question two minutes ago”, bassist Nathan Maxwell jokes, as I repeat my opening questions having finally realised my microphone was off. Nathan, Dennis Casey, Matt Hensley, and Rob Schmidt and I burst into a chorus of laughter. As we restart the interview, it’s not just the opening questions that have a distinct echo of the past. Colchester Arts Centre, the venue for tonight’s gig, feels to the seven much like Molly Malone’s, the bar where it all began. “It’s cool to come and touch base with here. Colchester’s a pretty old-school town and we’ll rock old-school tonight”, Maxwell continues. “We’ve never played here before and it feels fucking great to be here!”, Hensley says, as he shuts a laptop perched on his lap.
Most of the eight hundred or so here for tonight’s gig are from the Sixth Form College, a towering building that you can’t fail to notice. The Roman walls, now in scattered pieces like a lost treasure, are still standing, the college sat just behind them. For tonight, the generals in town are the Californians. “I didn’t know the college was right by here”, lead guitarist Casey says, “maybe we can make some Molly’s army converts!” Most of the college kids admit they’re here because of the support, The Streetdogs. Before the gig, the band tell me Kings’ outfit “will take over the Bosstones’ punk crown, no doubt”.
Having been greeted by their tour manager Joe, the Los Angeles seven are slumped backstage on a large, but rather worn, red couch in a makeshift kitchen. A small fruit bowl sits on the counter at the back of a room. It’s still largely untouched except for an apple which Hensley now sits eating. As I look around for signs of the customary cans of Guinness associated with the band, they’re nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re replaced with a few crates of water. “Taking a break from the hard stuff, Dave?” I somehow manage to yell amongst the deafening noise of drums and guitars. “They’re on the corner of the stage, I drink them during our sets. Gives you that extra bit of energy”, he replies.
Within a mile of home? Right now, it feels more like an eternity probably. A long American tour, finished less than a week ago, is only now beginning to wear off. “We’re pretty jetlagged, and I didn’t even unpack my stuff until the night before leaving for England” Maxwell says. Most of the band have young children, and Casey proudly announces to me that “I found out a few days ago I’m going to be a dad!” Perhaps for now, home feels like an eternity away. “I really wanted to take my daughter trick or treating”, Schmidt says, “but we left on Halloween, it sucked”.
Drummer George Schwindt though reminds them of the harsh reality they face. “Not to sound arrogant”, he says, “but we’re one of the hardest working bands out there. We can be on the road for four and five months, with a few weeks to recover. It’s tough going but if we want to make it, you have to make sacrifices”.
The band’s very name makes you think of a brutal lashing dished not only to their fans, but themselves. Maxwell merely reiterates the thought when he explains “when the band formed in 1996, it was just a few local guys trying to make some money that a few hundred like myself would go and see. But they played with such passion that they just beat the shit out of Mollys’. By the end of the shows, everyone was buzzing, so Flogging Molly was a pretty appropriate choice”.
The tour will last well into December, visiting Britain, Sweden and Germany. It’s a hectic three-week schedule with no days off, as they’ve quickly learnt. “We’re off to Folkestone straight away to go to Holland after tonight’s gig”, Schmidt says, “so I’ll probably read”. After visiting Holland for a few days, the band returns for a five-show tour of England. And when you’re in England, Hensley says, there’s only one thing you can do: eat a mass of curry. “We come back here for six days straight, and I can guarantee Nath and I will eat six days of curry”. With that, the conversation turns to yet more mentions of food. Or rather, a random series of cravings. “English fish and chips- you can’t go wrong there!” Casey laughs, as Schmidt pleads to me to take the band to an old place for “haddock and a mountain of mushy peas!”
English exports are more than fish and chips though. With King being born and raised a Dubliner and even with the others, they admit Britain was a huge influence on them. “The two-tone era of ska, and bands like The Beatles, The Stones, The Clash…I admire them a lot. A lot of Californians saw it as something totally new and radical, and I guess that’s what we’re trying to do- take elements of the old, and take it apart”.
It might have sold more than one hundred and fifty thousand copies on its first day of release, but ‘Within a Mile of Home’ hasn’t been without its critics. While most praised the band for giving a more rounded and traditional sound, one review called it “too big an attempt to visit its roots. Schwindt says the criticism is noted. “We play in Dublin a lot, but it’s the only place in Ireland we’re followed. I guess some people think Irish music should be left in its old form”. Maxwell though remains upbeat. “At the end of the day”, he says “we just want to play music. Wherever there’s a microphone, we’ll play”.
The line-up’s changed considerably over the years. Maxwell didn’t join the band until 2003. Only King, Bridget Regan and Schwindt have survived over the eight years. Now though, King feels he’s got the winning formula. “We’ve had a few changes over the years, but it happens. We don’t see much of our families, and some people find that too tough”. When you ask Maxwell, you can tell it’s hard going. “We all have young kids, and we’re missing a big part of their lives. But if you want to be successful, you’ve got to put your feelings aside”. Hensley nods in agreement. “But it helps that we’re all so close. The support we give each other’s a huge strength of the band”.
Just as the family of Flogging Molly has grown in strength, their following continues to gain in number. Maxwells’ eyes light up when he remembers the recent show in Seattle. “It’s great to see the cross-generations at shows. Mums are raising their kids on Flogging Molly, and passing it on to their sons and daughters. At the show there was an old lady, must have been about sixty. She got straight in the pit and was getting battered, but just kept getting up. She lasted like, five songs, and was loving every minute of it!” Judging by the number of people at America’s Warped Tour shows, held every August by skating giants Vans, she’s not the only one. “We had about fifty thousand at those shows”, Schmidt says. “I’d say we had a good ten or so thousand at least of that come see us on our stage”.
A far cry from tonight, then. The Arts Centre, an old church, has its stained glass windows still there, shining through and giving a charismatic blue glow over the stage. The place is so small that there’s barely room for the bar, which serves only a handful of drinks, mainly local ales. The barrier’s so thin it almost hugs the stage, and it’s largely down to the three bouncers to control any signs of trouble. During the support, a few manage to stage-dive, collapsing in a drunken heap somewhere between the mass and a spilt beer. Maybe too close for some? “Well, we all have our preferences on who we play to”, says Maxwell. “I want to play to as many as possible, so our open-air shows are great”. Hensley puts down the apple he’s been sat eating and shakes his head. “Nah, you’ve got to have the intimacy of a tight crowd. It’s great to play to big crowds, but we’re a pub band and I like to have the crowd right in my face. Up on a festival stage, it’s harder to project your energy across”.
Schwindt, the mellow drummer reminds the band that, despite their success, the tours haven’t all been memorable. “We played at Gaelic Fest in Boston with Dropkick Murphys. It’s a nice atmosphere and all, but hardly anyone showed up. It was a huge disappointment”.
Touring with one of the biggest punk bands in America though can’t be too bad, right? “The Murphys are cool guys”, Maxwell says “Very easy-going and hilarious to hang out with”. Comparisons have been made between the two, with both having a heavy rock influence with traditional Irish thrown in. But would Flogging Molly rather be known for originality? “I think our stuff is unique, but if we’re getting compared to them”, Maxwell says, “I’m not going to complain. They’ve set the standards of Irish punk for years, so if we can get anywhere near their recognition, I’ll be happy”. There’s one line they certainly won’t be going down. “What the fuck’s going on with European stuff right now?” Casey asks. “It’s appalling”, Hensley says, “what the hell are the Cheeky Girls about?”
Any doubts of what Flogging Molly is ‘about’ now are soon removed through a blistering opening night. The 2-hour set, a mixture of old classics like ‘selfish man’ are combined with helpings from ‘Within a Mile of Home’. Towards the end, there’s chaos in the moshpit, as more people fall victim to too much drinking and a soaking sweat-stained floor. It seems the jet-lagged crew aren’t the first to fall flat on the decks tonight.
Sports Journalism piece
I wrote this in my final year of my sports journalism unit
GUIDING THROUGH TROUBLED WATERS?
Scholes double puts West Brom nearer to the drop- but Shepherd claims United’s problems have been long-evident
In the world of English football, it seems the playground’s still scattered with its own characters. There are those who happily tag along quietly in mid-table and those who battle against their own (or teams’) mistakes. Amongst them, you can be sure, lie a few who have to make themselves heard, even at the expense of others.
Yesterday’s comments by Newcastle chairman Freddy Shepherd in the wake of a comfortable 3-0 win for Manchester United will send a series of raging reminders from the sandy surroundings of Dubai to Lancashire. Reminders that not only are Sir Alex’s class nine points behind Chelsea, they still face an uncertain future. Saturday’s game, to start with, would echo that.At first, West Brom, the newcomers to the top-flight school had adjusted well. But first-half injuries to Darren Moore and Cosmin Contra proved costly for Bryan Robson’s side however and the bullies from Old Trafford came out in force.
Paul Scholes sent a reminder to an old mentor that, when his confidence is high, he needs no re-education in finishing, scoring from a fiercely driven shot after 53 minutes. The remaining 37 were a detention for the hosts, confined to their own half. That said, the treatment given out was not even close to the bruised beatings that United are suffering. As the Chief from Newcastle pointed out, it’s been written on the chalkboard for months. The theatre has to stop acting to its audience and wake up to the reality.
Why would Shepherd, a man currently locked in a dispute with Sir Bobby Robson, and whose club experiences regular player unrest call his northern neighbours “a ship without a sail”? The answer lies not so much in Manchester United’s present, but the mistakes of their past. Not convinced? Two words: Arjen Robben. United could have bought him months before Chelsea, yet dismissed him. His early form for the Londoners suggests it could be the biggest missed opportunity since spurning a young Thierry Henry for being “too raw”.
That “lack of stardust”, as Shepherd calls it, isn’t the only ghost haunting United. The public tantrums between Sir Alex Ferguson and Magnier over the rights to Rock of Gibraltar threatened to chain the club to the demands of the tycoon. A shake-up of its agents and the removal of agent and boss’ son Darren Ferguson at least, and those outside Salford’s walls were laughing. Uniteds’ their form slumped and the grip on the league was lost. The belief this year is now there, as shown by Ferguson’s “judge us in January” comment last week. With Roy Carroll currently choosing not to extend his contract and John O’Shea’s future in doubt, I wonder if the judgement will be from another failed season.
Am I being over-pessimistic? Whatever your thoughts, the priority now for Chairman David Gill and the remainder of Manchester United may be Wednesday’s Carling Cup game, but long-term, at least to Shepherd, the focus needs to be less on financial gain and more on the fans. Will the board offer the apple out to anyone with the funds and more on resolving the confusion that chains the club? Shepherd, a “fan through and through”, surely would hope not. He may be outspoken, but he has a point, don’t you think?
GUIDING THROUGH TROUBLED WATERS?
Scholes double puts West Brom nearer to the drop- but Shepherd claims United’s problems have been long-evident
In the world of English football, it seems the playground’s still scattered with its own characters. There are those who happily tag along quietly in mid-table and those who battle against their own (or teams’) mistakes. Amongst them, you can be sure, lie a few who have to make themselves heard, even at the expense of others.
Yesterday’s comments by Newcastle chairman Freddy Shepherd in the wake of a comfortable 3-0 win for Manchester United will send a series of raging reminders from the sandy surroundings of Dubai to Lancashire. Reminders that not only are Sir Alex’s class nine points behind Chelsea, they still face an uncertain future. Saturday’s game, to start with, would echo that.At first, West Brom, the newcomers to the top-flight school had adjusted well. But first-half injuries to Darren Moore and Cosmin Contra proved costly for Bryan Robson’s side however and the bullies from Old Trafford came out in force.
Paul Scholes sent a reminder to an old mentor that, when his confidence is high, he needs no re-education in finishing, scoring from a fiercely driven shot after 53 minutes. The remaining 37 were a detention for the hosts, confined to their own half. That said, the treatment given out was not even close to the bruised beatings that United are suffering. As the Chief from Newcastle pointed out, it’s been written on the chalkboard for months. The theatre has to stop acting to its audience and wake up to the reality.
Why would Shepherd, a man currently locked in a dispute with Sir Bobby Robson, and whose club experiences regular player unrest call his northern neighbours “a ship without a sail”? The answer lies not so much in Manchester United’s present, but the mistakes of their past. Not convinced? Two words: Arjen Robben. United could have bought him months before Chelsea, yet dismissed him. His early form for the Londoners suggests it could be the biggest missed opportunity since spurning a young Thierry Henry for being “too raw”.
That “lack of stardust”, as Shepherd calls it, isn’t the only ghost haunting United. The public tantrums between Sir Alex Ferguson and Magnier over the rights to Rock of Gibraltar threatened to chain the club to the demands of the tycoon. A shake-up of its agents and the removal of agent and boss’ son Darren Ferguson at least, and those outside Salford’s walls were laughing. Uniteds’ their form slumped and the grip on the league was lost. The belief this year is now there, as shown by Ferguson’s “judge us in January” comment last week. With Roy Carroll currently choosing not to extend his contract and John O’Shea’s future in doubt, I wonder if the judgement will be from another failed season.
Am I being over-pessimistic? Whatever your thoughts, the priority now for Chairman David Gill and the remainder of Manchester United may be Wednesday’s Carling Cup game, but long-term, at least to Shepherd, the focus needs to be less on financial gain and more on the fans. Will the board offer the apple out to anyone with the funds and more on resolving the confusion that chains the club? Shepherd, a “fan through and through”, surely would hope not. He may be outspoken, but he has a point, don’t you think?
Moral reasoning
This was an interesting piece I wrote in 2005 about two well-known politicians who had had an affair. The paper discusses whether the woman (Edwina Currie) was right to publicly discuss this.
In September 2002, Edwina Currie published her diaries, entitled “A Parliamentary Affair”. In this, she referred to a four year affair with a politician, known anomalously in the diaries as ‘B’, beginning in 1984. Extracts were serialised in The Times and it was revealed that the politician was in fact John Major, then a Conservative whip for Margaret Thatcher. He admitted the affair, but claimed his wife Norma had known of this and had forgiven him. The Times’ revelation was attacked by a number of former MPs including David Mellor, who described the newspaper of “Behaving like a sleazy red-top tabloid” (BBC News 2002).
The paper, the moral agents in this case, claimed that they were entitled to expose the identity without permission on the grounds that (1) it was in the public’s interest to know due to Major’s status and (2) that it exposed hypocrisy and governmental secrecy.
A few years before Currie’s diaries were published, Major had written an autobiography but no mention of her was made. It is claimed by the media that Currie was hurt at this and the revelations were an act of revenge, though she categorically denied this.
This, along with other factors, raises the ethical dilemmas of: (1) Does John Major’s right to privacy outweigh the secrecy of the affair? (2) Do the revelations give further publicity to Currie’s book? (3) Would the revelations have destroyed Major’s career if revealed in the 1980s and is there a possible detrimental effect to the Conservative Party now?
The principles underlining the case are the duty to act responsibly and tell the truth and expose a revelation kept secret during Major’s key time as a Prime Minister. Yet with this comes a moral expectation to act responsibly, respecting an individual’s right to privacy. Plagued by sleaze and ministerial affairs, Major was determined that government misdemeanours, damaging his party’s reputation, would not be exposed. Known for his strong morals and ‘Back to Basics’ campaign, stressing the importance of family, no details of the affair were known during this time.
Currie’s references to Major as ‘B’ suggest that, while making public the details of the affair, her intentions were for the respect of the individual’s right to privacy. Some may suggest this a bound duty rather than a choice. Article 8 of the Convention on Human Rights states “Everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life” (Welsh and Greenwood 2002, Essential Law for journalists, p.388). Although the defence that the paper acted to serve the public interest can be argued either way and it is true that, as an ex Prime Minster, the public are likely to take notice, the extent of this however, is questionable. His election defeat was six years ago and as such the details arguably have less of an impact. Had the story broke during the ‘back to basics’ years, perhaps the hypocrisy of Major’s beliefs may have had a larger consequence upon him. As a more recent materialisation, it has been described as having “an element of prurience” (Andrew Marr 2002, BBC News), yet lacking contemporary relevance.
Currie’s apparent respect for the right to privacy contradicts the claimed revenge motive. If she desired to shame Major, she may have named him in the publication. Furthermore, it would appear that an element of governmental secrecy in the diary remains, as though we can speculate, with no details of the affair known, no evidence would be available to prove Major’s guilt. It could be argued therefore that there is a moral dilemma for The Times of Currie’s apparent wishes and the role of acting for the public interest by “exposing…a serious misdemeanour” (Barendt and Hitchens 2000, Media Law cases and materials, cited Press Complaints Commission Public Interest Defence p, p.405). Indeed, it could be said Major had a duty as a Prime Minister to be honest with society and, through his deception, to his conscience to admit his act. This would conflict with, as Essential law states, the idea that “People in the public eye and their family…do not forfeit their rights to privacy” (Welsh and Greenwood 2002, McNae’s Essential Law for journalists, p.395).
With his rise in politics into an emerging candidate for party leadership at the time the diaries were written, one could suggest that the details, had they been released by the media or Currie at this time, could have caused catastrophic damage to his reputation, perhaps tarnishing his political career altogether. Had they been released at the time he was Prime Minister, the reputation of the Conservative Party could have been seriously damaged. With Major no longer Prime Minister however, the extent of the consequences may be far less severe.
Nevertheless, the timing of the news could still be regarded as being inappropriate. With the Conservative Party Conference taking place at the time details of the affair emerged, further exposure of the story dominated many newspapers, with the discussions in Bournemouth, one may feel, disregarded. Here, The Times could be criticised, since the issues discussed had less publicity than may have been given had the reports not coincided with the conference.
In addition, it can be argued that the newspaper was unethical in exposing Major through the risk of damaging his marriage and has a duty to respect this. Although forgiven, and a seemingly difficult period for the marriage during the 1980s now overlooked, it is possible that bringing the information into public knowledge may have caused distress to the Majors. However, one could just as argue that if this were the case, their marriage may have ceased when he confessed to his wife.
Perhaps the main criticism of The Times’ actions is the breach of confidence. It is unlikely that Major was informed of the decision to name him and therefore if this is the case, no injunction could be sought against “what I have feared would come to light for a long time” (BBC news 2002, cited Major 2002). However, The Times have a defence for the truth and therefore it is unlikely an injunction would have been granted.
Despite this, The Times still have a moral duty to both the public, the law, and, in this case, the individual, to produce reliable and accurate information. As Frost writes:
If the information is known by the journalist to be totally accurate, then there is no problem… But, when the information comes from another source that is not so reliable, the journalist has to make an assessment about whether to pass this information on to the consumer (Frost 2002, Media Ethics and Self-regulation, p.30)
Though Major admitted to the affair, The Times, when naming Major, had only Currie’s word. Therefore, it could be argued a discussion should have been held between the newspaper and him.
The idea of an individual ethically bound to a duty, known as the categorical imperative, results from the deontological theories of studies that place:
An emphasis on acting on principle or according to certain moral duties without regard of their actions (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.59).
In the case of The Times, it could be believed that beneath the possible justification to tell the truth laid the duty to eradicate the mystery behind the duty and avoid speculation that may have falsely accused other individuals. As much as Kant (1724-1804) disregards the consequences, it is this that may justify:
Living up to standards because they are good, not because of the consequences that may result (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.57).
Yet there is conflict in his own argument. He emphasises the need to act to tell the truth, yet believes “One has a duty to tell the truth, even if it might result in harm to others” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.57). As Day suggests:
The reason that the duty to tell the truth is such a fundamental principle is that truth telling produces good consequences for society (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.60). Furthermore, Besley says:
A democratic society…requires freedom of information…and this gives the press its vital role (Belsey and Chadwick 1992, Ethical issues in journalism and the media, p.90).
Therefore, perhaps The Times are justified in naming Major, as it can be thought that drawing attention to government misdemeanour benefits society by ensuring that politicians act responsibly. The idea of ‘serving a greater good’, in addition, as Plato believed, means “An individual would be justified in defying conventional wisdom”(Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.56). The Times then could perhaps defy the wishes of Major and identify him through using these grounds for defence. However, can damaging a good reputation be regarded as ‘good’ ethical conduct?
When revealing Major as Currie’s lover, the teleological theories, concerned with “The consequences of an ethical argument” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.57). Rather than attempting to justify a possibly unethical practice, the utilitarian theorists deem that practices should “Promote the greatest good for the greatest number of people”. This therefore disregards somewhat Major’s view of the diaries if public interest exists, although had the details been published during his Prime Ministerial years, the sole benefit in politics would most likely have been the Labour party, since the Conservatives would most likely have needed to build an already crumbling public image. Yet while public interest in may have existed last September, the consequences for Iain Duncan-Smith were evident. His party were in turmoil, with party loyalties split and public confidence in them low. Therefore, with the publicity that surrounded the revelations, despite Duncan-Smith’s desire for the story not to overshadow the conference, one could suggest this was unfair. The Conservatives of today were not involved in the scandal, so why should negative publicity be stowed upon them? As Day writes:
On balance, the consequences for the public might be greater than the harm to the subject of the story, but the reporter has a moral obligation to inflict only the harm required to put the story into perspective. To do more would only appeal more to the morbid curiosity of the public (Day, Ethics and Communication Studies, p.61).
Maybe one should consider the possible motive of increased media publicity for Currie’s book. The Times even remarked:
The focus on one particularly relevant fact…has naturally distracted attention…These diaries are far from great literature, but they are an accessible part of a life in politics…Readers who have purchased The Times today solely for salacious detail are likely to be disappointed (Guardian 2002, cited The Times).
However, Currie is now a host of a late night radio programme on Five Live. One could argue that this position was as a result of the media attention to the affair, perhaps with the BBC keen to bring a controversial figure in. If this is true, and furthermore, if Currie received additional money for the disclosure, this diverts from the theory of Judeo-Christianity. Under this theory:
All moral decisions should be based on a respect for the dignity of persons as an end in itself rather than merely a means to an end (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.56).
Therefore, if there was a financial incentive for Currie, this could be regarded as being a highly unethical practice by The Times.
The idea of public access to the diary in itself contradicts the confidential nature of a diary. Further to this, there is a strong case that through the increased media attention to her book, this more benefited Currie in terms of book sales than the public, particularly when it has far less relevance today than it would had if it had led to the downfall of Major.
While the theories may disagree in parts, Day believes “They have one thing in common: they are concerned with standards and principles” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.62). Aristotle (384-322 B.C) though in the idea of a golden mean, a negotiated virtue. In the case of The Times, the decision concerns the virtues of truth against privacy, and in Major’s case, hypocrisy versus reputation. So with the issue of his privacy, one could argue such a decision like that of the Times brings with it the danger of further questions being asked of the individual. If this is true, then since Major admitted the affair, the possible unfair media harassment that may follow would perhaps cause negative consequences such as stress to Major. However, Major led the public to believe a policy he seemingly has fully behind, yet did not adhere to himself. The question here is whether, for the sake of his conscience, Major should have owned up and risked prime ministerial ruin or maintained the stability of the nation’s leadership.
Based on the evidence, my decision would be reveal the news, though breaking the revelation after the Conservative Party Conference, allowing it the coverage it morally should be granted, rather than being overshadowed. However, this would bring the relevance into further doubt, since the book will be less recent. All the same, The Times have a public interest and newsworthiness defence that, while not as strong as it would have been during Major’s political career, could still be argued, with the damage caused furthermore less. Major’s act was a misdemeanour, his ‘Back to basics’ policy therefore perhaps insincere. With a high profile individual with an ethical duty to society to perform his task of leading government in an honest fashion, it is therefore necessary for society to be informed.
Where the justification for exposing Major is questionable though is where Major’s admission is concerned. Whilst it prevented a possible media frenzy of speculation, it instead resulted in an amount of coverage that was perhaps unnecessary. Belsey (Ethical issues in journalism and the media 1992, p.90) however perhaps makes the strongest defence for the newspaper:
The British Press is already too restricted by the laws of official secrets, libel and contempt of court. To add privacy to that list would be to invite further misuse of the law by public figures with something to hide.
In September 2002, Edwina Currie published her diaries, entitled “A Parliamentary Affair”. In this, she referred to a four year affair with a politician, known anomalously in the diaries as ‘B’, beginning in 1984. Extracts were serialised in The Times and it was revealed that the politician was in fact John Major, then a Conservative whip for Margaret Thatcher. He admitted the affair, but claimed his wife Norma had known of this and had forgiven him. The Times’ revelation was attacked by a number of former MPs including David Mellor, who described the newspaper of “Behaving like a sleazy red-top tabloid” (BBC News 2002).
The paper, the moral agents in this case, claimed that they were entitled to expose the identity without permission on the grounds that (1) it was in the public’s interest to know due to Major’s status and (2) that it exposed hypocrisy and governmental secrecy.
A few years before Currie’s diaries were published, Major had written an autobiography but no mention of her was made. It is claimed by the media that Currie was hurt at this and the revelations were an act of revenge, though she categorically denied this.
This, along with other factors, raises the ethical dilemmas of: (1) Does John Major’s right to privacy outweigh the secrecy of the affair? (2) Do the revelations give further publicity to Currie’s book? (3) Would the revelations have destroyed Major’s career if revealed in the 1980s and is there a possible detrimental effect to the Conservative Party now?
The principles underlining the case are the duty to act responsibly and tell the truth and expose a revelation kept secret during Major’s key time as a Prime Minister. Yet with this comes a moral expectation to act responsibly, respecting an individual’s right to privacy. Plagued by sleaze and ministerial affairs, Major was determined that government misdemeanours, damaging his party’s reputation, would not be exposed. Known for his strong morals and ‘Back to Basics’ campaign, stressing the importance of family, no details of the affair were known during this time.
Currie’s references to Major as ‘B’ suggest that, while making public the details of the affair, her intentions were for the respect of the individual’s right to privacy. Some may suggest this a bound duty rather than a choice. Article 8 of the Convention on Human Rights states “Everyone has the right to respect for his private and family life” (Welsh and Greenwood 2002, Essential Law for journalists, p.388). Although the defence that the paper acted to serve the public interest can be argued either way and it is true that, as an ex Prime Minster, the public are likely to take notice, the extent of this however, is questionable. His election defeat was six years ago and as such the details arguably have less of an impact. Had the story broke during the ‘back to basics’ years, perhaps the hypocrisy of Major’s beliefs may have had a larger consequence upon him. As a more recent materialisation, it has been described as having “an element of prurience” (Andrew Marr 2002, BBC News), yet lacking contemporary relevance.
Currie’s apparent respect for the right to privacy contradicts the claimed revenge motive. If she desired to shame Major, she may have named him in the publication. Furthermore, it would appear that an element of governmental secrecy in the diary remains, as though we can speculate, with no details of the affair known, no evidence would be available to prove Major’s guilt. It could be argued therefore that there is a moral dilemma for The Times of Currie’s apparent wishes and the role of acting for the public interest by “exposing…a serious misdemeanour” (Barendt and Hitchens 2000, Media Law cases and materials, cited Press Complaints Commission Public Interest Defence p, p.405). Indeed, it could be said Major had a duty as a Prime Minister to be honest with society and, through his deception, to his conscience to admit his act. This would conflict with, as Essential law states, the idea that “People in the public eye and their family…do not forfeit their rights to privacy” (Welsh and Greenwood 2002, McNae’s Essential Law for journalists, p.395).
With his rise in politics into an emerging candidate for party leadership at the time the diaries were written, one could suggest that the details, had they been released by the media or Currie at this time, could have caused catastrophic damage to his reputation, perhaps tarnishing his political career altogether. Had they been released at the time he was Prime Minister, the reputation of the Conservative Party could have been seriously damaged. With Major no longer Prime Minister however, the extent of the consequences may be far less severe.
Nevertheless, the timing of the news could still be regarded as being inappropriate. With the Conservative Party Conference taking place at the time details of the affair emerged, further exposure of the story dominated many newspapers, with the discussions in Bournemouth, one may feel, disregarded. Here, The Times could be criticised, since the issues discussed had less publicity than may have been given had the reports not coincided with the conference.
In addition, it can be argued that the newspaper was unethical in exposing Major through the risk of damaging his marriage and has a duty to respect this. Although forgiven, and a seemingly difficult period for the marriage during the 1980s now overlooked, it is possible that bringing the information into public knowledge may have caused distress to the Majors. However, one could just as argue that if this were the case, their marriage may have ceased when he confessed to his wife.
Perhaps the main criticism of The Times’ actions is the breach of confidence. It is unlikely that Major was informed of the decision to name him and therefore if this is the case, no injunction could be sought against “what I have feared would come to light for a long time” (BBC news 2002, cited Major 2002). However, The Times have a defence for the truth and therefore it is unlikely an injunction would have been granted.
Despite this, The Times still have a moral duty to both the public, the law, and, in this case, the individual, to produce reliable and accurate information. As Frost writes:
If the information is known by the journalist to be totally accurate, then there is no problem… But, when the information comes from another source that is not so reliable, the journalist has to make an assessment about whether to pass this information on to the consumer (Frost 2002, Media Ethics and Self-regulation, p.30)
Though Major admitted to the affair, The Times, when naming Major, had only Currie’s word. Therefore, it could be argued a discussion should have been held between the newspaper and him.
The idea of an individual ethically bound to a duty, known as the categorical imperative, results from the deontological theories of studies that place:
An emphasis on acting on principle or according to certain moral duties without regard of their actions (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.59).
In the case of The Times, it could be believed that beneath the possible justification to tell the truth laid the duty to eradicate the mystery behind the duty and avoid speculation that may have falsely accused other individuals. As much as Kant (1724-1804) disregards the consequences, it is this that may justify:
Living up to standards because they are good, not because of the consequences that may result (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.57).
Yet there is conflict in his own argument. He emphasises the need to act to tell the truth, yet believes “One has a duty to tell the truth, even if it might result in harm to others” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.57). As Day suggests:
The reason that the duty to tell the truth is such a fundamental principle is that truth telling produces good consequences for society (Day, Ethics and Mass Communication Studies, p.60). Furthermore, Besley says:
A democratic society…requires freedom of information…and this gives the press its vital role (Belsey and Chadwick 1992, Ethical issues in journalism and the media, p.90).
Therefore, perhaps The Times are justified in naming Major, as it can be thought that drawing attention to government misdemeanour benefits society by ensuring that politicians act responsibly. The idea of ‘serving a greater good’, in addition, as Plato believed, means “An individual would be justified in defying conventional wisdom”(Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.56). The Times then could perhaps defy the wishes of Major and identify him through using these grounds for defence. However, can damaging a good reputation be regarded as ‘good’ ethical conduct?
When revealing Major as Currie’s lover, the teleological theories, concerned with “The consequences of an ethical argument” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.57). Rather than attempting to justify a possibly unethical practice, the utilitarian theorists deem that practices should “Promote the greatest good for the greatest number of people”. This therefore disregards somewhat Major’s view of the diaries if public interest exists, although had the details been published during his Prime Ministerial years, the sole benefit in politics would most likely have been the Labour party, since the Conservatives would most likely have needed to build an already crumbling public image. Yet while public interest in may have existed last September, the consequences for Iain Duncan-Smith were evident. His party were in turmoil, with party loyalties split and public confidence in them low. Therefore, with the publicity that surrounded the revelations, despite Duncan-Smith’s desire for the story not to overshadow the conference, one could suggest this was unfair. The Conservatives of today were not involved in the scandal, so why should negative publicity be stowed upon them? As Day writes:
On balance, the consequences for the public might be greater than the harm to the subject of the story, but the reporter has a moral obligation to inflict only the harm required to put the story into perspective. To do more would only appeal more to the morbid curiosity of the public (Day, Ethics and Communication Studies, p.61).
Maybe one should consider the possible motive of increased media publicity for Currie’s book. The Times even remarked:
The focus on one particularly relevant fact…has naturally distracted attention…These diaries are far from great literature, but they are an accessible part of a life in politics…Readers who have purchased The Times today solely for salacious detail are likely to be disappointed (Guardian 2002, cited The Times).
However, Currie is now a host of a late night radio programme on Five Live. One could argue that this position was as a result of the media attention to the affair, perhaps with the BBC keen to bring a controversial figure in. If this is true, and furthermore, if Currie received additional money for the disclosure, this diverts from the theory of Judeo-Christianity. Under this theory:
All moral decisions should be based on a respect for the dignity of persons as an end in itself rather than merely a means to an end (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.56).
Therefore, if there was a financial incentive for Currie, this could be regarded as being a highly unethical practice by The Times.
The idea of public access to the diary in itself contradicts the confidential nature of a diary. Further to this, there is a strong case that through the increased media attention to her book, this more benefited Currie in terms of book sales than the public, particularly when it has far less relevance today than it would had if it had led to the downfall of Major.
While the theories may disagree in parts, Day believes “They have one thing in common: they are concerned with standards and principles” (Day, Ethics and Mass Communications Studies, p.62). Aristotle (384-322 B.C) though in the idea of a golden mean, a negotiated virtue. In the case of The Times, the decision concerns the virtues of truth against privacy, and in Major’s case, hypocrisy versus reputation. So with the issue of his privacy, one could argue such a decision like that of the Times brings with it the danger of further questions being asked of the individual. If this is true, then since Major admitted the affair, the possible unfair media harassment that may follow would perhaps cause negative consequences such as stress to Major. However, Major led the public to believe a policy he seemingly has fully behind, yet did not adhere to himself. The question here is whether, for the sake of his conscience, Major should have owned up and risked prime ministerial ruin or maintained the stability of the nation’s leadership.
Based on the evidence, my decision would be reveal the news, though breaking the revelation after the Conservative Party Conference, allowing it the coverage it morally should be granted, rather than being overshadowed. However, this would bring the relevance into further doubt, since the book will be less recent. All the same, The Times have a public interest and newsworthiness defence that, while not as strong as it would have been during Major’s political career, could still be argued, with the damage caused furthermore less. Major’s act was a misdemeanour, his ‘Back to basics’ policy therefore perhaps insincere. With a high profile individual with an ethical duty to society to perform his task of leading government in an honest fashion, it is therefore necessary for society to be informed.
Where the justification for exposing Major is questionable though is where Major’s admission is concerned. Whilst it prevented a possible media frenzy of speculation, it instead resulted in an amount of coverage that was perhaps unnecessary. Belsey (Ethical issues in journalism and the media 1992, p.90) however perhaps makes the strongest defence for the newspaper:
The British Press is already too restricted by the laws of official secrets, libel and contempt of court. To add privacy to that list would be to invite further misuse of the law by public figures with something to hide.
George Best observations
Written September 2005 during my degree studies. Best died not long after this was written.
When the greatest football players of all time are discussed, one name is almost a certainty to be mentioned. But “The thing that gets to George Best is being compared to someone like Paul Gascoigne-yes, both were great players and drink featured, but George achieved so much during such a short time”, says Justin Barnes, former editor of Manchester United magazine.
With a host of domestic and European honours, indisputable talent and playing for a football club recognised worldwide, Best seemed to have everything he could have dreamed of.
But the pressures of this high-profile lifestyle, eventually leading to alcoholism, a failed marriage and a career felt by many cut drastically short, the debate still rages today-Is he the greatest player ever or simply a victim of his own success?
Those closest to him have mixed opinions on this. Barnes, now assisting Best writing his monthly column in United Magazine, admits he “wasn’t sure what to expect”.
“Everybody’s heard the stories of his drinking”, he says. “When I was told the meeting was to be at his old haunting place at The Kings’ Arms near Chelsea, I just thought ‘God, get me out of this!’”.
And he’s not alone. Some groups criticised Best’s treatment for a damaged liver in February 2000, arguing he used his celebrity status to receive immediate treatment. Look deeper however, he argues, and you see a very different picture.
“”I often find footballers to be dull, there’s never much warmth”, he adds. “With George, it’s a totally different story. He’s so refreshing to talk to”.
Many of Best’s closest friends stress his friendliness and willingness to talk openly. Barnes says “He’s very charming, always stopping to have a chat and catch with you. It seems as though whenever you need him, no matter how busy he is, he’ll talk”. If you can latch one sole praise upon Best, it’s without question his honesty. As Michael Parkinson said commenting on Best’s recent autobiography, ‘blessed’, Best’s personality is such now that he will “face his demons”.
Born in Belfast on 22nd May 1946, being amongst an elite seems to run in the family; his father a worker at Harland and Wolff’s ship yard, at the time widely recognised amongst the world and his mother a production worker at a tobacco firm and a gifted hockey player.
“Literally as soon as I could walk”, he says, “I had a ball at my feet…it didn’t really matter to me what sort of ball it was”. He lived-and slept for football, sometimes taking a ball to bed at night.
For his admirers, Best was everything on the pitch, like the ruthless of headmasters, shaming the ‘pupils’ and often receiving a bruising for his efforts. Dodging, weaving, and twisting his way past an appearing insurmountable mountain of players with ease. For them, he was their superman, “the most perfectly balanced player I’ve ever seen”, says David Meek, a Manchester Evening News soccer correspondent for forty years. Yet in his early years, Best’s famed feet weren’t so agile.
Starting his playing days at Cregagh Boys Club, his coach Bud McFarlane told him “You might make it”, providing he improved his left foot technique. Practicing for days upon end, determined to prove his worth, Best went on to score twelve left footed goals in their next game, a 21-0 victory.
Continuing to set the standards both domestically and abroad during his time at Manchester United, he finished top scorer in the league for five of his ten seasons at the club. This, claims Barnes, was “all the more incredible when you consider he didn’t even play centre forward as a regular. Much of his games were played on the wing!” But while the honours, including a European Footballer of the Year award, were mounting, so too were his problems-and at an even rapider rate.
For Best was drinking at a self-destructive rate. “I never needed an excuse”, he claimed, “I just drank”. And while he began this path, others around him, including ex Manchester United manager Tommy Docherty, became increasingly alarmed. “He was such a great player that he could get away with almost anything and that was a mistake”. A ticking time bomb inevitably waiting to explode, his wife Angie left him in 1986.
It was just one of the many difficulties Best faced. His 2000 film biography, ‘Best’, described by one film critic as “doomed from start to finish”, took little income from box offices or indeed its small screen release. This could have done little to help his financial situation, declared bankrupt at one stage in the 1980s.
And while his finances were in a downward spiral, his career was faring little better. Leaving Manchester United in the 1970s, he later played in the USA, but retired at the age of 27. His ability though, as former team-mate Paddy Crerand claims, was such that “he could have gone on til he was 35”.
His health was seemingly in a downward spiral shortly afterwards. Barnes admits he was “deeply concerned” at this point. He wasn’t the only one.
Also working as a football analyst on Sky’s ‘Soccer Saturday’, ex-Fulham colleague Rodney Marsh said he was “praying for a swift recovery”. More worryingly, Best, known for his fighting spirit on the pitch, helping United claim an extra-time victory over Benfica in 1968, was more fragile than ever. His weight in hospital had dropped
“at least two stone”, recalls Barnes.
But Best was to return, determined to fight back. Now married again, this time to Alex.. Although in her thirties, and “you could take a cynical view from that”, says Barnes, “they’re deeply in love”. Any doubters may be interested in read her personal webpage.
Tributes have been in their masses. When Maradonna, to some the greatest player ever, describes you as “without doubt the greatest ever”, Best’s problems seem irrelevant when his ability is considered.
Certainly Shoot readers felt so in 1999. Ignoring other contenders including Kenny Dalglish, Kevin Keegan and Eric Cantons, Best was named the greatest player to have played in England. But the world?
“Maybe a little too strong”, feels Barnes, “though I guess it depends on your era-if you saw him during the time you’d probably say yes. Kids today might say Owen, Beckham, Shearer….but George was incredible”.
Although no longer a regular on Soccer Saturday, Best now writes a column for the Mail On Sunday in addition to commentary and, charity work. His compassion beams so warmly. Current Manchester United manager, Sir Alex Ferguson sums up Best in a nutshell-“He had all the attributes. It’s so tragic circumstances led to such a tragic retirement…he’s a nice lad. A genius”.
When the greatest football players of all time are discussed, one name is almost a certainty to be mentioned. But “The thing that gets to George Best is being compared to someone like Paul Gascoigne-yes, both were great players and drink featured, but George achieved so much during such a short time”, says Justin Barnes, former editor of Manchester United magazine.
With a host of domestic and European honours, indisputable talent and playing for a football club recognised worldwide, Best seemed to have everything he could have dreamed of.
But the pressures of this high-profile lifestyle, eventually leading to alcoholism, a failed marriage and a career felt by many cut drastically short, the debate still rages today-Is he the greatest player ever or simply a victim of his own success?
Those closest to him have mixed opinions on this. Barnes, now assisting Best writing his monthly column in United Magazine, admits he “wasn’t sure what to expect”.
“Everybody’s heard the stories of his drinking”, he says. “When I was told the meeting was to be at his old haunting place at The Kings’ Arms near Chelsea, I just thought ‘God, get me out of this!’”.
And he’s not alone. Some groups criticised Best’s treatment for a damaged liver in February 2000, arguing he used his celebrity status to receive immediate treatment. Look deeper however, he argues, and you see a very different picture.
“”I often find footballers to be dull, there’s never much warmth”, he adds. “With George, it’s a totally different story. He’s so refreshing to talk to”.
Many of Best’s closest friends stress his friendliness and willingness to talk openly. Barnes says “He’s very charming, always stopping to have a chat and catch with you. It seems as though whenever you need him, no matter how busy he is, he’ll talk”. If you can latch one sole praise upon Best, it’s without question his honesty. As Michael Parkinson said commenting on Best’s recent autobiography, ‘blessed’, Best’s personality is such now that he will “face his demons”.
Born in Belfast on 22nd May 1946, being amongst an elite seems to run in the family; his father a worker at Harland and Wolff’s ship yard, at the time widely recognised amongst the world and his mother a production worker at a tobacco firm and a gifted hockey player.
“Literally as soon as I could walk”, he says, “I had a ball at my feet…it didn’t really matter to me what sort of ball it was”. He lived-and slept for football, sometimes taking a ball to bed at night.
For his admirers, Best was everything on the pitch, like the ruthless of headmasters, shaming the ‘pupils’ and often receiving a bruising for his efforts. Dodging, weaving, and twisting his way past an appearing insurmountable mountain of players with ease. For them, he was their superman, “the most perfectly balanced player I’ve ever seen”, says David Meek, a Manchester Evening News soccer correspondent for forty years. Yet in his early years, Best’s famed feet weren’t so agile.
Starting his playing days at Cregagh Boys Club, his coach Bud McFarlane told him “You might make it”, providing he improved his left foot technique. Practicing for days upon end, determined to prove his worth, Best went on to score twelve left footed goals in their next game, a 21-0 victory.
Continuing to set the standards both domestically and abroad during his time at Manchester United, he finished top scorer in the league for five of his ten seasons at the club. This, claims Barnes, was “all the more incredible when you consider he didn’t even play centre forward as a regular. Much of his games were played on the wing!” But while the honours, including a European Footballer of the Year award, were mounting, so too were his problems-and at an even rapider rate.
For Best was drinking at a self-destructive rate. “I never needed an excuse”, he claimed, “I just drank”. And while he began this path, others around him, including ex Manchester United manager Tommy Docherty, became increasingly alarmed. “He was such a great player that he could get away with almost anything and that was a mistake”. A ticking time bomb inevitably waiting to explode, his wife Angie left him in 1986.
It was just one of the many difficulties Best faced. His 2000 film biography, ‘Best’, described by one film critic as “doomed from start to finish”, took little income from box offices or indeed its small screen release. This could have done little to help his financial situation, declared bankrupt at one stage in the 1980s.
And while his finances were in a downward spiral, his career was faring little better. Leaving Manchester United in the 1970s, he later played in the USA, but retired at the age of 27. His ability though, as former team-mate Paddy Crerand claims, was such that “he could have gone on til he was 35”.
His health was seemingly in a downward spiral shortly afterwards. Barnes admits he was “deeply concerned” at this point. He wasn’t the only one.
Also working as a football analyst on Sky’s ‘Soccer Saturday’, ex-Fulham colleague Rodney Marsh said he was “praying for a swift recovery”. More worryingly, Best, known for his fighting spirit on the pitch, helping United claim an extra-time victory over Benfica in 1968, was more fragile than ever. His weight in hospital had dropped
“at least two stone”, recalls Barnes.
But Best was to return, determined to fight back. Now married again, this time to Alex.. Although in her thirties, and “you could take a cynical view from that”, says Barnes, “they’re deeply in love”. Any doubters may be interested in read her personal webpage.
Tributes have been in their masses. When Maradonna, to some the greatest player ever, describes you as “without doubt the greatest ever”, Best’s problems seem irrelevant when his ability is considered.
Certainly Shoot readers felt so in 1999. Ignoring other contenders including Kenny Dalglish, Kevin Keegan and Eric Cantons, Best was named the greatest player to have played in England. But the world?
“Maybe a little too strong”, feels Barnes, “though I guess it depends on your era-if you saw him during the time you’d probably say yes. Kids today might say Owen, Beckham, Shearer….but George was incredible”.
Although no longer a regular on Soccer Saturday, Best now writes a column for the Mail On Sunday in addition to commentary and, charity work. His compassion beams so warmly. Current Manchester United manager, Sir Alex Ferguson sums up Best in a nutshell-“He had all the attributes. It’s so tragic circumstances led to such a tragic retirement…he’s a nice lad. A genius”.
Retail crime
This was a piece examining the growing problem retailers faced with things like petty theft etc. Written September 2008.
Whilst Credit Crunch stories make headlines daily, there’s a bigger threat to your business. At the same time, you might not realise it. Worse still, many businesses passively ignore it.
Yet when it comes to security, to do so is foolish. Whatprice.co.uk claims “pet theft has overtaken mobile phone robberies as the most rapidly-growing crime in the UK”.
A rising problem
It’s not difficult to see pet theft has risen to such levels. High-value pedigree and exotic animals are increasingly popular. Thieves are recognising this. Consider this stark tale.
In 2004, a Crufts Champion bitch worth £50,000 was stolen from its owner. A high ransom was demanded by the gang.
Even if money does not change hands, many dogs are either bred on the market or used in illegal coursing and fighting.
Think theft’s confined to high-value animals? Think again. The emotional bond between owner and pet is just as attractive to a thief.Graham Abbott, owner of Scales and Tails in Hampshire suffered a heart attack in 2006 after 13 tortoises were stolen from his shop.
The mounting cost of business crime
The government has recognised the upset and financial loss thefts are causing. A more integrated approach to business crime’s mounting costs is being developed as a result.
The National Retail Crime Steering Group, established last year, will meet bi-annually to discuss how it can reduce the mounting cost of retail crime- more than £19 billion a year.
At the same time, you can do more to protect your store. As the Steering Group says, it’s vital that firms “include crime prevention at the heart of all its business policies and practices”.
Don’t fret. Help is at hand from industry experts. Criminals are more sophisticated- but providers are frequently proving smarter.
Smartwater
Proof that the police and businesses are fighting back comes from Smartwater. Its forensic coding kits and anti-intruder spray system are used by clients including Woolworths, Norwich Union and British Airways.
The products produce a unique code that directly links an intruder to a crime. Dave Reynolds says that before Smartwater’s invention, the lack of conclusive proof to a crime scene meant pet thieves knew they had a strong chance of being undetected, and so often reoffended.
Once an intruder triggers the system, they’re covered with a water-based solution. Invisible to the eye, the water shows clearly under police ultra-violet lights months after the event.
“The water stays on clothing and skin for months”, Dave says. “Even if the police don’t catch the criminal at the time of the theft, they’ll have suspects. Criminals know this and are scared rigid of the system. It’s like using psychological warfare. Our aim is to stop incidents occurring in the first place”.
The success is there to see. The system has a 100% conviction rate and has helped to significantly reduce violent burglaries.
CCTV
Some though are increasingly determined to get what they want, even if systems are in place. Not only are they determined, they’re increasingly efficient. A robbery can take literally minutes, even seconds.
Statistics show that pet thefts are more common at night when thieves know premises are usually unattended. For this reason, video evidence provides your store and the police with vital evidence.
Jeremy Davies, of B2B links, says outdoor cameras “are excellent for deterring burglary and theft from premises. The latest night vision infra-red cameras can see in darkness for around 20 to 30 metres where flood lighting’s not chosen”.
It’s thanks to such innovations that CCTV has grown in popularity. “High-Definition CCTV opens up tremendous opportunities in terms of image quality”, says Pauline Norstrom of the British Security Industry Association. “”It looks set to revolutionise how CCTV is used to secure industry sites and identify offenders”.
The technological revolution has produced increasingly smaller and more compatible units. Bulky units requiring monitors, recorders and computers are now replaced by dedicated hard drive systems and Internet-based CCTV.
Videotec-Zoom has made use of both smaller units and the internet and offers a range of packages to suit business needs. These include internet monitored systems, allowing your staff to monitor suspicious activity from a safe distance.
A four-camera package, including a monitor, hard drive and Internet monitoring, starts at around £14.50 a week.
Micro-chipping
A small cost to pay for peace of mind. Yet the National Register for Exotic Pet Thefts report that pet theft is at its worst level for ten years.
The group claims that private collectors are driving the market for exotic pets, with macaws identified as a key target.
Already a legal requirement with any dog or cat and some species of tortoise, both the register and the RSPCA recommend store owners microchip their pets.
Microchipping reptiles and occasionally birds however, is a more difficult proposition than dogs and cats. The RSPCA comment that the process “requires the insertion of a chip via a surgical operation”. Because of the complexity, Andy Robbins advises, “a vet should be consulted first”.
Stock theft prevention
It’s not just the illegal trade that threatens your business, though. Opportunistic internal theft is also on the rise.
The latest figures from the British Retail Consortium’s Retail Crime Survey show that in 2006, detected internal thefts and fraud cost businesses £30 million.
Stephen Burnett, Managing Director of the Retail Data Partnership, says that in some cases, the losses have been staggering. “A convenience store owner contacted us about a year ago”, he says. “The shop was running well, but making no profit. Three months after installing our software, it emerged that his daughter had taken £12,000 out of the business”.
The firm have produced an electronic point-of-sale software solution, ‘ShopMate’.
Designed to “take the work out of the process”, the system processes transactions, adjusts prices and records all transactions. When linked to CCTV, price-switching and fraudulent till-ringing is identifiable, as images of scanned items are imposed.
‘Your first concern’
Whatever aspect of security you look at, “protecting your business at the most basic level should definitely be your first concern”, the British Security Industry Association says.
Combining the technology and broadness of the options available is highly advisable. The Home Office advises businesses “do a few things, don’t just rely on one solution”.
Security’s about identifying your needs and ensuring that these are fully met. “By ensuring that core security functions are in place”, the Association says, “businesses can rest assured that they have a comprehensive first layer of security protecting both their premises and people”.
Whilst Credit Crunch stories make headlines daily, there’s a bigger threat to your business. At the same time, you might not realise it. Worse still, many businesses passively ignore it.
Yet when it comes to security, to do so is foolish. Whatprice.co.uk claims “pet theft has overtaken mobile phone robberies as the most rapidly-growing crime in the UK”.
A rising problem
It’s not difficult to see pet theft has risen to such levels. High-value pedigree and exotic animals are increasingly popular. Thieves are recognising this. Consider this stark tale.
In 2004, a Crufts Champion bitch worth £50,000 was stolen from its owner. A high ransom was demanded by the gang.
Even if money does not change hands, many dogs are either bred on the market or used in illegal coursing and fighting.
Think theft’s confined to high-value animals? Think again. The emotional bond between owner and pet is just as attractive to a thief.Graham Abbott, owner of Scales and Tails in Hampshire suffered a heart attack in 2006 after 13 tortoises were stolen from his shop.
The mounting cost of business crime
The government has recognised the upset and financial loss thefts are causing. A more integrated approach to business crime’s mounting costs is being developed as a result.
The National Retail Crime Steering Group, established last year, will meet bi-annually to discuss how it can reduce the mounting cost of retail crime- more than £19 billion a year.
At the same time, you can do more to protect your store. As the Steering Group says, it’s vital that firms “include crime prevention at the heart of all its business policies and practices”.
Don’t fret. Help is at hand from industry experts. Criminals are more sophisticated- but providers are frequently proving smarter.
Smartwater
Proof that the police and businesses are fighting back comes from Smartwater. Its forensic coding kits and anti-intruder spray system are used by clients including Woolworths, Norwich Union and British Airways.
The products produce a unique code that directly links an intruder to a crime. Dave Reynolds says that before Smartwater’s invention, the lack of conclusive proof to a crime scene meant pet thieves knew they had a strong chance of being undetected, and so often reoffended.
Once an intruder triggers the system, they’re covered with a water-based solution. Invisible to the eye, the water shows clearly under police ultra-violet lights months after the event.
“The water stays on clothing and skin for months”, Dave says. “Even if the police don’t catch the criminal at the time of the theft, they’ll have suspects. Criminals know this and are scared rigid of the system. It’s like using psychological warfare. Our aim is to stop incidents occurring in the first place”.
The success is there to see. The system has a 100% conviction rate and has helped to significantly reduce violent burglaries.
CCTV
Some though are increasingly determined to get what they want, even if systems are in place. Not only are they determined, they’re increasingly efficient. A robbery can take literally minutes, even seconds.
Statistics show that pet thefts are more common at night when thieves know premises are usually unattended. For this reason, video evidence provides your store and the police with vital evidence.
Jeremy Davies, of B2B links, says outdoor cameras “are excellent for deterring burglary and theft from premises. The latest night vision infra-red cameras can see in darkness for around 20 to 30 metres where flood lighting’s not chosen”.
It’s thanks to such innovations that CCTV has grown in popularity. “High-Definition CCTV opens up tremendous opportunities in terms of image quality”, says Pauline Norstrom of the British Security Industry Association. “”It looks set to revolutionise how CCTV is used to secure industry sites and identify offenders”.
The technological revolution has produced increasingly smaller and more compatible units. Bulky units requiring monitors, recorders and computers are now replaced by dedicated hard drive systems and Internet-based CCTV.
Videotec-Zoom has made use of both smaller units and the internet and offers a range of packages to suit business needs. These include internet monitored systems, allowing your staff to monitor suspicious activity from a safe distance.
A four-camera package, including a monitor, hard drive and Internet monitoring, starts at around £14.50 a week.
Micro-chipping
A small cost to pay for peace of mind. Yet the National Register for Exotic Pet Thefts report that pet theft is at its worst level for ten years.
The group claims that private collectors are driving the market for exotic pets, with macaws identified as a key target.
Already a legal requirement with any dog or cat and some species of tortoise, both the register and the RSPCA recommend store owners microchip their pets.
Microchipping reptiles and occasionally birds however, is a more difficult proposition than dogs and cats. The RSPCA comment that the process “requires the insertion of a chip via a surgical operation”. Because of the complexity, Andy Robbins advises, “a vet should be consulted first”.
Stock theft prevention
It’s not just the illegal trade that threatens your business, though. Opportunistic internal theft is also on the rise.
The latest figures from the British Retail Consortium’s Retail Crime Survey show that in 2006, detected internal thefts and fraud cost businesses £30 million.
Stephen Burnett, Managing Director of the Retail Data Partnership, says that in some cases, the losses have been staggering. “A convenience store owner contacted us about a year ago”, he says. “The shop was running well, but making no profit. Three months after installing our software, it emerged that his daughter had taken £12,000 out of the business”.
The firm have produced an electronic point-of-sale software solution, ‘ShopMate’.
Designed to “take the work out of the process”, the system processes transactions, adjusts prices and records all transactions. When linked to CCTV, price-switching and fraudulent till-ringing is identifiable, as images of scanned items are imposed.
‘Your first concern’
Whatever aspect of security you look at, “protecting your business at the most basic level should definitely be your first concern”, the British Security Industry Association says.
Combining the technology and broadness of the options available is highly advisable. The Home Office advises businesses “do a few things, don’t just rely on one solution”.
Security’s about identifying your needs and ensuring that these are fully met. “By ensuring that core security functions are in place”, the Association says, “businesses can rest assured that they have a comprehensive first layer of security protecting both their premises and people”.
Frank Capone's Funeral
Written May 2009 as a general entertainment piece for a funeral magazine.
It should be no surprise to you that one of the most flamboyant funerals ever held was that of one of New York’s most notorious and feared sons. After all, the city has been setting trends in the fashion and culture worlds for decades. Yet it was America’s ‘Second City’, Chicago, which was the home of the most unique funeral of the 1920s.
Twenty thousand dollars alone was spent on tributes arranged via racketeer florist Dion O’Banion. At the current American inflation rate, this puts the figure at almost a quarter of a million dollars. Such was the volume of public grief, the decorations packed fifteen of the one hundred cars forming the funeral cortège. More flowers were strewn across the family home’s doors and garden.
Put simply, it was an extravagant funeral to compliment an extravagant persona. Tall and lean with thick wavey hair, he was frequently at the heart of the family’s business dealings. Each time, dressed in a luxurious, high-priced suit. His attention to detail was immaculate.
So when one of the leading figures behind Chicago’s most dangerous criminal network of the time passed away, it came as no surprise that his coffin pulled no punches. Silver-plated in design, its value greatly exceeded that of any of his family. Perhaps this is due to the common belief that had this criminal mastermind survived the events of April 1st 1924, he would have eclipsed the power held by his brother, Al Capone.
Four years older than Al, Frank ‘Salvatore’ Capone was born in 1895. He moved from the harsh surroundings of New York City with his family to begin a new life in Chicago, Illinois. Later residing at 7244 South Prairie Avenue, the address was also to be the venue for Frank’s funeral. His mother later passed away in the same house in 1952.
Although Al was famed for his use of violence to terrorise his victims, Frank Capone was regarded as even more dangerous. He often chose to resort to drawing his gun without hesitation.
Ultimately, Frank’s reluctance to negotiate and extreme methods of intimation proved his downfall. During the Primary election of 1924, Frank and Al’s ‘Chicago Outfit’ gang attempted to influence voting in Cicero, a suburb of the city. Standing at polling booths brandishing submachine guns and sawn-off shotguns, voters were only permitted into booths if they voted for City Manager Joseph Klenha.
Hearing of the threats, the Chicago Police cornered Frank. Believing them to be members of a North Side mob, he drew his gun to open fire. Before he could so, Capone was shot dead. Just weeks later, the same police officers involved attended Frank’s funeral. They stood just yards from Al Capone. The Chicago Tribune described the event as being “fit for a distinguished statesman”.
Amongst Frank’s family there were no doubts as to his status in society. Frank’s family, particularly Al, openly wept at his funeral. As was common at the time amongst crime syndicates, Al Capone attended the funeral unshaven as a mark of respect to his brother.
In fact, Capone was held in such high regard by the local community that every gambling house and red light district in the Cicero area ceased trading for two hours as a mark of respect to the gangster.
Having received protection from the Capones to ensure they traded without intervention from the police, there was an overwhelming sense of loss amongst these businesses. Indeed, the general mood of Frank Capone’s last rites was sombre- perhaps due to being just 28.
Whatever the level of loss, Frank Capone could not escape the reality that he killed, terrorised and corrupted. This may go some way to why his memorial at his original resting place, Mount Olivet Catholic Cemetery in the heart of Chicago is inscribed with the words: “My Jesus, mercy”.
Faced with growing local and tourist interest, both Frank and Al’s remains were moved to the quieter surroundings of Mount Carmel Cemetery, around half an hour from Chicago’s centre. Much larger in size than Mount Olivet, the graves are marked by a small headstone obscured by plants and trees as the city and cemetery aim to remind visitors that there is more to the area than its links with the Capones.
As much as the Capones will be remembered for their cold, heartless disregard for society, one has to look past this for a minute and see that this funeral was a hugely warm and loving financial public display of a family’s undoubted grief. Even in today’s high-spending celebrity society, this funeral will take some beating.
It should be no surprise to you that one of the most flamboyant funerals ever held was that of one of New York’s most notorious and feared sons. After all, the city has been setting trends in the fashion and culture worlds for decades. Yet it was America’s ‘Second City’, Chicago, which was the home of the most unique funeral of the 1920s.
Twenty thousand dollars alone was spent on tributes arranged via racketeer florist Dion O’Banion. At the current American inflation rate, this puts the figure at almost a quarter of a million dollars. Such was the volume of public grief, the decorations packed fifteen of the one hundred cars forming the funeral cortège. More flowers were strewn across the family home’s doors and garden.
Put simply, it was an extravagant funeral to compliment an extravagant persona. Tall and lean with thick wavey hair, he was frequently at the heart of the family’s business dealings. Each time, dressed in a luxurious, high-priced suit. His attention to detail was immaculate.
So when one of the leading figures behind Chicago’s most dangerous criminal network of the time passed away, it came as no surprise that his coffin pulled no punches. Silver-plated in design, its value greatly exceeded that of any of his family. Perhaps this is due to the common belief that had this criminal mastermind survived the events of April 1st 1924, he would have eclipsed the power held by his brother, Al Capone.
Four years older than Al, Frank ‘Salvatore’ Capone was born in 1895. He moved from the harsh surroundings of New York City with his family to begin a new life in Chicago, Illinois. Later residing at 7244 South Prairie Avenue, the address was also to be the venue for Frank’s funeral. His mother later passed away in the same house in 1952.
Although Al was famed for his use of violence to terrorise his victims, Frank Capone was regarded as even more dangerous. He often chose to resort to drawing his gun without hesitation.
Ultimately, Frank’s reluctance to negotiate and extreme methods of intimation proved his downfall. During the Primary election of 1924, Frank and Al’s ‘Chicago Outfit’ gang attempted to influence voting in Cicero, a suburb of the city. Standing at polling booths brandishing submachine guns and sawn-off shotguns, voters were only permitted into booths if they voted for City Manager Joseph Klenha.
Hearing of the threats, the Chicago Police cornered Frank. Believing them to be members of a North Side mob, he drew his gun to open fire. Before he could so, Capone was shot dead. Just weeks later, the same police officers involved attended Frank’s funeral. They stood just yards from Al Capone. The Chicago Tribune described the event as being “fit for a distinguished statesman”.
Amongst Frank’s family there were no doubts as to his status in society. Frank’s family, particularly Al, openly wept at his funeral. As was common at the time amongst crime syndicates, Al Capone attended the funeral unshaven as a mark of respect to his brother.
In fact, Capone was held in such high regard by the local community that every gambling house and red light district in the Cicero area ceased trading for two hours as a mark of respect to the gangster.
Having received protection from the Capones to ensure they traded without intervention from the police, there was an overwhelming sense of loss amongst these businesses. Indeed, the general mood of Frank Capone’s last rites was sombre- perhaps due to being just 28.
Whatever the level of loss, Frank Capone could not escape the reality that he killed, terrorised and corrupted. This may go some way to why his memorial at his original resting place, Mount Olivet Catholic Cemetery in the heart of Chicago is inscribed with the words: “My Jesus, mercy”.
Faced with growing local and tourist interest, both Frank and Al’s remains were moved to the quieter surroundings of Mount Carmel Cemetery, around half an hour from Chicago’s centre. Much larger in size than Mount Olivet, the graves are marked by a small headstone obscured by plants and trees as the city and cemetery aim to remind visitors that there is more to the area than its links with the Capones.
As much as the Capones will be remembered for their cold, heartless disregard for society, one has to look past this for a minute and see that this funeral was a hugely warm and loving financial public display of a family’s undoubted grief. Even in today’s high-spending celebrity society, this funeral will take some beating.
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