Emmanuel Amevor

Dear Sarah, Michael et al,

I received the news of John's admission to the ancestral clan with much sorrow. A giant among humanity has moved on to join the ancestors who will be enriched while our community will be poorer. I am sure you loved John very much, but if it is any consolation to you, there is someone who loves him more than you do and he is surely resting in the arms of the Almighty.

Damifra due (May he rest in peace). From all at Centerprise and on my on behalf please accept our heartfelt condolences.

© Emmanuel Amevor 4/3/06

Director, Centerprise Trust Ltd, 136/8 Kingsland High St, London E8 2NS, Tel. 020 7254 9632, Fax 020 7923 1951

 

Anjali

Dear All,

I am sorry to bring to you the very sad news that John La Rose has died this morning. I have found these texts below to remind us all of his achievements. Words cannot express how much we have lost with his passing.

The political, literary and cultural contributions made by John La Rose have all been of the highest order. He is one of the outstanding individuals of his generation ...The international struggle for social, economic and political transformation of neo-colonial society and for the creation of workers and peoples power throughout the world will be eternally indebted to this fine human being.

MOTION - The Movement for Social Transformation, Trinidad and Tobago

With deep sadness - Anjali

28.2.2006

© Anjali

 

Brendan Barber

Congress House, Great Russell Street, London, WC1B 3LS

Date: 10 March 2006

Ms Sarah White, c/o George Padmore Institute, 76 Stroud Green Road, LONDON N4 3EN

 

Dear Sarah

CONDOLENCES

I am writing on behalf of the TUC to offer our condolences to you and the La Rose family on John’s death.

John made an immense contribution to the trade union movement both in the Caribbean and among Britain’s black community. In particular he worked with TUC colleagues and the international trade union movement over the years as the Rep for the Oilfield Workers' Trade Union of Trinidad and Executive Member of the Federated Workers Trade Union, later the National Union of Government and Federated Workers.

He was an inspiration to many of the current generation of black trade unionists, including our Congress President Gloria Mills. They are dedicated to continuing his work and I am sure that they will make a special point of remembering him at our black workers conference, which takes place next month.

Yours sincerely

BRENDAN BARBER

General Secretary

© Brendan Barber

 

Stephen Bulgin

This is a heart-rending moment during which I offer my condolences to Sarah and family on the death of my friend John, a valiant soldier who dedicated his whole life to the universal cause of enlightenment and justice.

When first I met and heard him speak to a group of parents on the black child in the education system in George Campbell's front room in New Cross on a cold winter's evening in 1968, he revealed his credentials as a fearless being of deep commitment to the cause under discussion in that room on that cold December night.

John took a principled stand against compromise. He had no fear of any material loss that might result from his refusal to acquiesce in the social going rate offered to, and accepted by, the once vociferous, now silent, gatekeepers of our time but stayed the course and made his thoughts accessible to all.

Again I offer my condolences to Sarah, his widow and an equally principled partner during his life, and Michael, Keith and Wole of whom I see very little, but of whom by their heritage I think I know a lot.

12.3.06

© Stephen Bulgin

 

Pedro Burgess

To be, or not to be!!!

The real weapons

The passing of John La Rose went unnoticed in the Carnival afterglow. Poet and publisher, essayist, film maker. Enough, surely, to warrant more than an honourable mention in the newspapers. I dare not eulogise a man I only knew third-hand, save a few chance encounters when I was far too intimidated by a brightness “not just light but intelligence” in his eyes to dare say more than hello.

These things John La Rose has given us, left us by accident or some greater design to leave some legacy to an apparently empty and undoubtedly hungry generation are yet to penetrate the national psyche.

We must be surrounded with so much greatness that we have no trouble letting the minds the country has given to the world wander free, homeless, unclaimed. Or perhaps it is as much John La Rose’s fault for disappearing into the relative safety of life in London.

Because for all the racism and the cold and grey sterility, I gather from wise elders that, in some ways, Babylon-don is a far less cruel place than home. Where even in the freeze of non-radiated bed-sits our region’s finest authors formed literary gems.

London, foreign, exile is safe in a way that the familiar isn’t. You can dare to recreate yourself. To rethink old ideas, take on new ones.

The passing of John La Rose left me with not just sadness but also a little regret. He was born in Arima in 1927. He co-authored the first and definitive book on calypso with Raymond Quevedo (Atilla the Hun), Atilla’s Kaiso.

He was a trade union man and when he moved to the UK he, alongside Barbadian Kamau Brathwaite, Jamaican Andrew Salkey and Guyanese Aubrey Williams, formed the Caribbean Artists Movement. If nothing else he will be remembered for a goldmine. I remember one particularly bleak Babylon-don Saturday taking a fare-dodgers’ ride on the old Number 19 bus up to Finsbury Park. I’d just been to see Uncle Horace Ove’s Dream to Change the World, a documentary about John La Rose’s life, and had been struck by how little I knew about the influence of Trinidad thinkers on the black British civil rights movement.

So I found myself on Stroud Green Road, spending an hour or more marvelling at books. So many books to read. So much knowledge to absorb. So much information to make sense of. Wondering when I would ever find the time to read even a quarter of the books in that New Beacon bookstore.

And finding there one last hardcover version of Martin Carter’s Poems of Succession. Sarah White, La Rose’s wife, ally and business partner, tells me it’s the last one.

They haven’t printed that book in ages, she says. It’s a must, I say, for I remember endless evenings of my mother quoting Carter.

And I head back home down Stroud Green Road with my Martin Carter in my bag, so relieved that he existed. And now that he’s gone I’m also glad that John La Rose was there once and that he saw the need for such a bookstore and such a publishing company.

But I also regret that I never found time during my Babylon-don days to seek him out and absorb as much information from him for my own mind’s archives. That I didn’t get to ask him why they really discontinued the Black Book Fair or where have all our leaders and thinkers and dreamers gone.

And I’m not sure if this is just further evidence of our non-interest in a generation of people that helped shape who we are or a lesson to me that the past is passed and we should leave well enough alone. Should we forget John La Rose and Andrew Salkey and Sam Selvon? Who was Claudia Jones? Let alone for Beverly Jones. Hardly anyone knows their names and no one cares about their politics.

They are dying and we can’t stop it. But when the Americans killed Che he was reported to have said, “Shoot, you are only killing a man.” And in truth his image has stayed burned into the consciousness of every young person that ever wanted better or more.

And Bob too, his voice stays with us, defiant. Refusing to die. It doesn’t compute that we should let the voices of all those others perish. Even if only to remind us not to repeat their mistakes.

The lesson from Bob and Walter and Che and CLR is that in this new revolution for the minds of an empty-headed generation it is books that are the real weapons. Words to arm us, words to steel us for the battle, words to inform us, our own words to defend us against the propaganda.

The old ones are going, because they have to. Let us not let their words die with them.

6 March 2006

© Pedro Burgess

 

Bob Catterall

Dear Sarah and family,

In meeting John again, after a long gap, at the celebration last year of the International Book Fair of Radical Black and Third World Books I was amazed at his ability to pick up on a shared train of thought as though their had been no interruption and at his continuing and much-needed spirit of youthful and visionary optimism. I deeply regret that I cannot be with you today. But I can assure you that John has been – and is and will continue to be – an inspiration for work undertaken in our journal CITY in charting oppression and movements beyond it towards liberation and justice.

Solidarity,

© Bob Catterall 13/3/06

Bob Catterall is editor of CITY: analysis of urban trends, culture, theory, policy, action

 

Jeremy Corbyn and Other MPs

House of Commons

Early Day Motion 1737

01.03.2006

 

JOHN LA ROSE

Moved by: Corbyn, Jeremy

That this House expresses its deep sadness at the death of John La Rose; recalls his poetry and expression of the rich and diverse culture of the Caribbean and his enormous contribution to the cause of West Indian people in the UK; notes that he founded the New Beacon bookshop in Finsbury Park and later became Chairman of the Institute of Race Relations; further notes that he campaigned for proper educational opportunities for West Indian children and founded the George Padmore Supplementary School; and offers its condolences to his family and community.

Signatories (20):

Corbyn, Jeremy

Abbott, Diane

Cryer, Ann

Bottomley, Peter

Dismore, Andrew

Vis, Rudi

Caton, Martin

Pope, Greg

Purchase, Ken

Simpson, Alan

Skinner, Dennis

Hopkins, Kelvin

Hancock, Mike

Devine, Jim

Jenkins, Brian

Clapham, Michael

Gerrard, Neil

Anderson, David

Galloway, George

Hemming, John

© Jeremy Corbyn

 

Carol Dixon

Dear Sarah,

I am so sorry to hear about John's death. Thank you for letting me know. I read Linton's obituary in the Guardian on Saturday and was very moved by his words, and amazed at the depth of John's commitment to so many aspects of community life — particularly as regards his contribution to political and heritage education both here and throughout the wider Caribbean diaspora. John will be dearly missed, but his work goes on through New Beacon and the GPI. I am sure that he would be proud of the current work that you Sarah, Brian and all the other Trustees are doing in partnership with us, for the benefit of young learners and their families, and think that we should consider commemorating John via the Exploring Archives publication in some way.

My sincerest condolences to everyone at the GPI.

Thinking of you ...

6/3/06

© Carol Dixon

 

Gloria Emeagwali

I met John La Rose in the 70s and was also inspired by him in many ways. His battle cry reached numerous receptive ears. May His Soul Rest in Peace.

© Gloria Emeagwali

 

Ron Farquhar (letter to Guardian)

Dear Sirs,

I should like to add a grace note to Linton Kwesi Johnson's tribute to the late John La Rose (4 March).

The list of John's activities and organisations is impressive but might give the impression that he was a dour activist, while in fact he was a most agreeable man. I once asked him how, as a red-hot revolutionary, he managed to be so pleasant, and he replied: 'My motto has been "suaviter in modo, fortiter in re".' The 'suaviter' was always to the fore in personal relations and social gatherings; the 'fortiter' must have been formidable, given his achievements.

Yours faithfully

Ron Farquhar

8.3.06

© Ron Farquhar

Liz Gerschel

Dear Sarah, Michael, Janice and all the family,

I was much saddened to hear from Milverton of John's death; you have all been on my mind all week. I think of John with great affection and respect. Thirty years ago, as a young teacher, back from Jamaica, naive and impassioned about teaching Caribbean literature, I was grateful for the personal interest John and Sarah took in the search for good teaching material. John's warmth and kindness never failed and his geniality and tolerance belied the depth of his shrewdness, courage and wisdom. I am very glad to have seen him relatively recently, at the December party, and proud to have known him and you for so many years.

You must all miss him enormously.

I will be working out of London on Monday and will therefore, to my great regret, be unable to be at the funeral. I know that it will be a celebration of John's life and a tribute to a man whose work has made such a significant impact on race equality in this society. I will be glad to make a donation to the George Padmore Institute in John's name.

13/3/06

© Liz Gerschel

 

Joan Harris

Dear Margaret,

How sad, indeed, to have lost the invaluable John La Rose. I think it was you who introduced me to him so many years ago. Thank you for the articles about him and by him … So many giants leaving us.

To say it is an end of an era does not quite say enough. It is, of course, that, but … makes us realize we must do something to find their strength in the face of these changing times, treacherous to so many things and people … treacherous to making art …

XXX Joan

© Joan Harris

 

Stephen Hayward

Sad news, but it sounds as though he died swiftly and painlessly — possibly good for him, but more of a shock for those he loved.

Stephen

© Stephen Hayward

 

Robert A. Hill

Dear Margaret:

Thanks for sharing the sad news of John's passing. I had received word yesterday from a number of sources. John was such a pillar of the life of the black community. His death leaves a huge hole that will take a long time to fill. Please convey my condolences to his family and relatives.

Much love, Bobby

© Robert A. Hill

 

Rosemarie Hudson

A great loss to all of us.

Rosemarie

© Rosemarie Hudson

 

Selma James

George Rawick, scholar on the history of slavery, was a sociologist and held seminars with many peoples. He often talked of a variety of ways of looking at the world which he had learnt from these seminars with people from Indigenous nations, especially but not only from within the United States. One man from a tribe/nation in Africa which lived by hunting told of how long it took to hunt an animal like a giraffe. The giraffe would be wounded and the hunter would follow it for many days until it died. The reason he gave for hunting in this slow way was that the giraffe was a large animal and the world had to get used to its departure.

When I heard of John’s death, this story rose from my memory. Each of us is large, and even an unfeeling world has to get used to each departure. But some of us touch and help shape many lives, and John was one of those.

I first met John and Irma in 1958 in Venezuela, when C.L.R. and I were guests of Ralph Ghent, a beautiful person, an old student of his and a friend of the La Roses. I remember that John gave us a running description of the revolution that overthrew the dictator Perez as he witnessed it from his window. When he and Irma came to London in the sixties, we renewed the friendship (Irma has remained my intimate friend though we seldom meet). I especially got to know the boys, and Michael’s really beautiful crayon still life has hung on my wall since the sixties.

C.L.R. was quietly but extremely pleased that The Beacon, a literary magazine he had helped found in Trinidad in the twenties became John’s New Beacon Books; and pleased again that John republished his novel Minty Alley and then gave him a chance to write the introduction to Froudacity, J.J. Thomas’s 1889 intellectual slaughter of a racist English academic.

I’ll miss John’s sunny temperament, his understanding of Marx (which was not displayed in recent years, but I had seen in the sixties), and lines like ‘Drop the car keys, boy,’ which perfectly conveyed that there were more important things than the sleek cars which some young people thought we or at least they could live by.

The few obituaries so far omit how important the very modest Sarah was to all that New

Beacon and John accomplished. Not uncommonly, the wife is not (yet) credited with her hard work. John would not have allowed that.

© Selma James

Naseem Khan

I hadn't heard about John La Rose - thank you, but yes how very sad, and how impossible to imagine things without him… Naseem

© Naseem Khan

 

Nana Yaa Mensah

Not unexpected, but it still leaves you feeling as if there's now a huge hole in the cultural life of all of us in Britain.

Nana Yaa

© Nana Yaa Mensah

 

Carlos Moore

Oh, Margaret, that´s sad. John was indeed a fine brother, a great fighter. We will all miss him. Someone once told me that, "One knows that one is getting old when friends start to die." That´s the process. We must take care of one another even more every day.

Love.

Carlos

© Carlos Moore

 

Alastair Niven

I admired John hugely. He was always so pleased to see one, so enthusiastic, so firm and interesting in his views, and so encouraging. He had a kind of grace and magnanimity which was infectious. Someone like me, based first in a university when I met him and then at the Arts Council (as your father’s successor but one) could easily have been the subject of his derision, but he enfolded one. His qualities were not just personal but intellectual, as everyone has acknowledged since his death. He energized the literary and publishing scene in Caribbean Britain like no one else and we are all indebted to him, even people who don’t know they are because he did so much to improve our society overall. He was in his way an historic figure as well as a lovely man. I am sure you miss him dreadfully. But you can be very proud too.

10.06.06

© Alastair Niven

 

Tony Phillips

A very great loss indeed.... Tony x

© Tony Phillips

 

Ron Ramdin

John's death is a sad loss and I remember him fondly. Thanks very much for passing on the additonal info.

With Warmest Regards, Ron

© Ron Ramdin

 

George Shire

After the 13th March 2006.

I would like to add my name in thanking John La Rose's family and friends for organising such a memorable funeral for John and for all of us to share with them their sorrow at his passing.

As I have had to return to the question of Zimbabwe in recent years, John was always there advising and reminding me that colonialism reconvenes with a vengeance inside the metropolis those problems that had constituted themselves in the colonies.

I shall miss him so much.

Rest in peace comrade until the fire next time.

14/3/06

© George Shire

 

Pete Stern

Sarah,

Horace contacted me last night to tell me about the news of john's passing. my first thoughts were for you. and then my thoughts turned inward and to the inspiration and self-belief that working on the "dream to change the world" documentary has already rewarded me with and how my life is changing as a result. i have spent the last few weeks in cambodia working on a film project and am now in los angeles where the production company is based. i do not yet have my london travel dates organised but i'm supposed to be back in about a week and hopefully by the funeral date, which i imagine will be in london? the film screening of dream to change the world here at the pan african film festival produced a positive response from the audience, who seemed inspired by john, as many people here in the united states feel that their voice is not being heard, if they use their voice at all, and seeing john's s ways of projecting his voice in order to insite change is self-inpowering. horace talked to me also about the dvd manufacturing, which i presumed had already gone into production. i then contacted kaz ove in londo, today, who has all the relevent material to send to 24/7 dvd manufactures with which to make the dvds, and i believe he will do this tomorrow, friday 3rd of march. they need on average a 7 day turn around to deliever the job. horace mentioned that you would like copies to be available by john's funeral, which i think he said is 10 days away. i asked kaz to mention this to 24/7 and will know tomorrow what the delievery date is. i am contactable out here in california on my london mobile phone and you only need to dial 07956 239 550 as if i'm in england.

thinking of you and john ...

3.3.07

© Pete Stern

 

Jean Stubbs

It was with great sadness that we learnt that John had passed away. He holds a special place in all our hearts for his writing, his mentoring of scholars, and his activism on behalf of the Caribbean community in Britain as well as in the Caribbean. He and all of you have been stalwarts in supporting Caribbean Studies at our former Polytechnic and then University of North London, before the merged London Metropolitan University. He will be greatly missed, but we take solace in the knowledge that you, we and others are committed to continue along the path he and his contemporaries forged.

On Thursday, 2 March, Professor Norman Girvan gave a lecture on the Caribbean Single Market and Economy, under the auspices of our Caribbean Studies Centre. He began by projecting a photo of a youthful John, Sam Selvon and Andrew Salkey and asking for a minute's silence in John's memory. It was a moving moment for all. He also made the excellent suggestion that we host a Memorial Lecture in John's honour. This we would very much like to do at an appropriate future date.

Our sincerest condolences to you all. May John's memory live on through New Beacon Books and the George Padmore Institute he inspired. Please count on our support in that endeavour.

3.3.06

© Professor Jean Stubbs

Professor Jean Stubbs is Director of the Caribbean Studies Centre, London Metropolitan University, North Campus,166-220 Holloway Road, London N7 8DB, United Kingdom

 

Devon Thomas

A funeral on a sunny day in north London

Well folks, we all gathered in the far north (for those of us from the far south) on this bright, crisp Monday morning to put away our friend and comrade and sing praises in his name. We, in truth, came from all points of the compass, and those from furthest seemed to find the church easier than the Londoners!

My little posse coalesced at Wood Green station and said hopefully to each other, “How are you, I haven't seen you in a long time, do you know the way to the church?” None of us did, so we embarked on an extended tour by bus and foot, being directed north, south, east and west by a succession of cunning north Londoners determined to teach us geography!

Finally after turning down behind the petrol station, walking down the alley, over the footbridge and down this long road that seemed to be full of Cypriot barber shops of a certain 1950s vintage, there stood this handsome Victorian edifice framed by the end of the street. None of us really believed it to be the right location because we had all been overcome with mirth as the jokes had flowed the longer we had walked! John was definitely with us because we were going to a celebration.

What was this? Chris Le Maitre was the usher at the door, looking slightly frail but dapper in his usual way and he bade us, “enter”, with a sly smile. Did he know something we didn't?

On entry we were surrounded by a warm golden glow of John's spirit enveloping us, as the sun shone through the stained glass window and the warmth started to bring back feeling to our frozen joints. Proceedings were under way but just so, and who was this I see but Mike Phillips looking sombre, so I poke him in the ribs and that perks him up a bit!

Room full, couldn't even catch a teaspoon of smoke and more arriving. There's that sister who used to sit on my board but she moved away, what she name again? But wait, a no Cecil dat, him no email me from Kingston yessiday say 'im caan come? But 'im de yah! A Caudley dat? No, a Henderson, a always get dem mix up because dem did edit de same newspaper! But the words tumble forward as the tributes are offered; Kole from Africa, David from Trinidad, Abdul from America and Linton from Brixton, all hailing their friend and mentor.

The hymns roll around. Some sing with gusto, as we learned them from early, others a little awkwardly thinking, “John in a church? He was a revolutionary”! A slight tear in their eye. The La Roses sat in serried ranks along the front, the distinguished visitors in ordered rows like a theatre circle behind the alter, and then as if in a second we were viewing the body. A moment just to look into his face. A curious ritual of Africa this, necessary but, a no John dis, 'im gone long time.

We mass outside and joyfully greet each other and offer lifts. Having filled up our, or more accurately, Donald's car, we make for the North Circular Road. Someone says, “All these roads, I've only heard of them on early morning traffic reports and they really exist”!

Striving not to end up at the Hanger Lane gyratory system, I, having been designated the navigator say, “Follow de sister dem inna de white car, me kno' se dem sensible and kno' we' dem a go”! Someone else says, “Really, I know someone else who did that and ended up in their driveway as they were on their way home”! They veer off all of a sudden and we feel we are going in the wrong direction again, but never fear, John is with us, him spirit sey, “the other way”, so we do a rapid waza in a supermarket car park and head back the other way and lo and behold, a wa dis but de bone yard!

Now all we have to do is find the grave site. That's no straight forward thing as this is a big dutty graveyard yu kno. Some wander this way and some wander that way but I the Navigator see a little office and the lady therein just print orf a ting with a map road, name and arrow pointing out John's last resting place. We reach, and long time before the sisters inna de white car who had been in front a we!

Brother Gus is already there in full flow, his seminary training being put to good use. The crowd builds up again and we raise our voices to give one last push for the send-off. The coffin is brought forward and lowered. That last fall of sod onto the coffin lid makes a forbidding sound, “Boof”, Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust.

The communal singing causes some controversy. First, two factions singing the same hymn at different tempos. Then a coup d'état, the radicals have got fed up with all this opium of the people and try to lead us into the “Red Flag”. It starts off well but after a few stanzas the sisters from the white car lead us back to the “Rivers of Babylon”.

The shovels arrive and Michael and Keith pick them up and start the final labour for their father. A bottle of rum is thrust forward, a libation is poured and a generous swig is taken until it is exhausted by all in the company.

It's a big hole and a cold day so this labour is welcome. One by one we take our turn shovelling this strangely sandy soil onto our friend and comrade.

Finally we manage to get it full. The flowers are brought up and carefully arranged. Gradually we drift off. “Do you know the way to the hall?” “Yes man, yu jus go back on de North Circular, an …” the directions tail off as you realise John will not be there the next time you visit Albert or Stroud Green Roads but his spirit is everywhere.

Back at the hall the food is good as I haven't eaten since morning and there's so many people to greet. That damn scamp Cecil has escaped and not come on down! Later in the evening the calypsos start extempore. The young people think their rapping and cutting is new, just hear this! John is definitely pleased, and so to home. What's this I hear, Gordon Parks is dead? Another one bites the dust, but it's the good that die young!

A few thoughts on a great day.

Ajomase'

Devon

14 March 2006

© Devon Thomas

 

Sue Woodford-Hollick

Shocking news and yes, a terrible loss..hope you and others will make sure there are some big obituaries in all the papers. Sue

© Sue Woodford-Hollick