I forget to mention yesterday what exactly happened when I went to the library.  In case you are thinking that I went to ‘spectate’, well I didn’t.  Last week I ordered some math’s books for my daughter.  The school said that it wanted the children to look over some work during the summer break, in preparation for the AS Level work at school. I received a letter telling me that the books had arrived from another library.  I went alone to the library (Marcus Garvey Library) and was surprised to see the Japanese TV crew (I know they were Japanese as one of the librarians told me so), smiling away but nervous to approach anyone to interview; the French TV crew were interviewing an elderly West Indian man, and I could hear him in full swing talking about the early sixties.  Somewhere in the car park, another TV crew was interviewing two black girls.

The crew was sitting at the back of their huge van, and extended from the top of it was a huge massive aerial.  After talking with the librarian, I collected the books and left.  I decided to walk into the High Road to see what was happening. Yes, at this point, I was curious.  There was tape along the road, directing pedestrians off the High road to the back roads which run along with the car parks.  It was interesting to see a number of people around and the police interacting with the public. My ‘walk’took me to the far end of Bruce Grove. There was absolutely no where I could access the High Road as it had been sealed off by tape. Eventually, I came out onto the road, and saw part of the 1930s (Carpet showroom) building which had been there well before I was born.  Such a shame that the building should be seen as ‘iconic’ now that it has died a death.  I read somewhere in one of the papers that how buildings are important to a community; especially if it has history, it should be revered and respected. Now that it has gone, whichever architect is hired, this  building cannot  be replaced .

I cross over the High Road to Pembury Road, and there are groups of people, just sitting, talking.  And each group I pass, there seems to be nothing else to discuss other than the riots.  There is a car, totally burnt.  People stop, remove their camera phones and take photos.  Yet another TV crew are at the end of the road, arguing between themselves about where they should go.  I wonder if I should volunteer and talk to them but I say no, as the area has a bad rep as it is.  I don’t want to say something that becomes misconstrued and distorted; something that I might have to give lengthy explanations to people.