I was 20 in 1992. Working as a grunt for the Inland Revenue and facing more and more staff cuts and wanky new rules/procedures/initiatives. I'd done some leaflet-dropping for Labour in the lead-up.
Our local's landlord and landlady were big Labour supporters and had invited a select few - including me and a couple of my mates (who weren't political) to stay behind and watch the results come in with the bar open. Was really looking forward to it.
That afternoon, one our of close group of mates - I'll call him 'W' - who'd been living in Sheffield for a few months, came home. Another mate who was at Uni in Sheffield (who W had initially gone to stay with, but had moved into his own student place with his girlfiend) had warned us in the couple days before that W was acting freaky. The reality was much worse. He'd had a serious mental health breakdown. You can never know the trigger, but he's apparently been doing acid by the ton, and the mental pressures had been amplified by his mum & dad divorcing and splitting up with his own gf.
He appeared in the pub about half-9 and immediately began pissing people off with his antics (going up to random strangers and striking up weird, often paranoid conversations). These days you'd hope there was more understanding for people with mental health issues but back then he was in danger of getting a kicking. The landlord came over to us about half-10 and told us to get him out of the place. I volunteered to take him home as I had my car with me (I was probably a little 'over' the DD limit and was due to leave my car there overnight, but this seemed pressing). He decided he didn't want to go into his mum & dad's house and I couldn't just dump him. I ended up chatting with him till about 1am in the most frustrating series of discussions I've ever had - one minute he'd be relatively lucid, the next going off into his own world and delusions. He finally went into his house and I went home, to be met with the news that the Tories looked like clinging onto power.
Election night 1992 remains one of my most memorably depressing nights ever.
He was sectioned (for the first time) the next afternoon. He did recover to a large extent, despite a few relapses. He moved to China about 20 years ago to work as an English teacher. He kept in touch with a few of us initially, but nobody's heard from him in about 10 years (we know from checking online that he heads up the language school now, though )
Sorry, I went off on one there. It just brings back vivid memories.
I enjoyed reading that post (maybe "enjoyed" is not right!). Thanks Nobby.
'92, though, that was the worst. My mum had gone to the Sheffield rally during the election - the infamous one where Neil Kinnock got a bit hysterical. I remember her phoning me the next day to say that it had been the greatest political meeting she'd ever been to (and she'd been to the victory rally outside Huddersfield Town Hall in '45!). People who were at the Sheffield rally simply couldn't understand what everybody else was saying about Kinnock's diabolical speech. They were just caught up in the hysteria I suppose.
But even so I still remember thinking that we'd have a Kinnock government right up until the first results started coming in. I was in Belsize Park with a group of friends, The Macallan at the ready. What a blow. It wasn't as humiliating as '83 when we barely saw off the SDP to come second, but it was worse somehow because it seemed inconceivable the Tories would get back in again.
Losing the last general election was, of course, the most humiliating blow of all. Not because Labour deserved to win (they didn't) but because after such a stonking defeat there looked to be absolutely no way back to power - and some of the Far Left didn't seem to care. Politics to them was about feeling good, hearing your opinions articulated by political leaders regardless of whether they were translated into action or not. To them, I suppose, the real victory had already been won when Corbyn became the Labour leader.
I'm just grateful that Labour is in the hunt again, under a leadership which is honest, decent, competent and hard-working. It's miraculous really given where we were, as a party, not so long ago. I'm not even thinking about the loss of Scotland any more, and that also says a lot.
Naturally, a Labour victory won't be followed by the kind of nuts and bolts reconstruction of the UK that I believe in, and most people visiting these pages probably believe in too. But I'm a realist. There's no huge public appetite for socialism in Britain. Perhaps in the future there will be. But not right now. Even so I am convinced that millions of lives will improve if Labour forms the next government. That ought to be enough for anyone.