|
|
 |
| |
Marrying 'the boy next door' Douglas Jay at Hampstead Parish Church in September 1930 |
‘Passion was the fuel that ignited success’
PEGGY Jay was a dangerous woman.
My most vivid memory of her was when she drove me to a Corporation of London banquet and got lost in the maze of one-way City streets, the result being that we suddenly headed the wrong way down a one-way road, Peggy groaning: “Why the hell are all those cars flashing at me!”
We survived because nothing daunted her.
But it was an important evening because Hampstead Heath and its future were on the menu, and the guests included the principal players – Virginia Bottomley, then Margaret Thatcher’s environment secretary, and, happily Peggy’s Tory niece, Sir Godfrey Taylor, autocratic chairman of the London Residuary Body, which took over control of the Heath when Mrs Thatcher destroyed the GLC in 1986, and Peter Rigby, astute leader of the City fathers.
There was a delicate tightrope to be walked. And, forever vigilant, Peggy was there, watching every move to ensure that the Heath she loved, saved for London by Hampstead’s visionary forefathers, was not again used as some political pawn.
As chairman, subsequently president, of the Heath and Hampstead Society, she was a formidable opponent who could be a brilliant battleaxe, demolishing any argument hurled against her, and, the next moment, pouring soothing charm and delight over those she had so mercilessly conquered.
It was obvious to me that Peggy was the compelling voice of NW3, someone so powerful you simply couldn’t ignore her, because her passion, right or wrong, was the very fuel that ignited success. She threatened to chain herself to plane trees that were threatened with the axe, persuaded generous benefactors to part with their cash for admired causes, helped to ban McDonald’s from Hampstead Village for a dozen years, and backed campaigns to keep shops local but did not use them herself.
Such were the contradictions of a woman of influence whose Huxley genes provided her with endless energy and enthusiasm, even at times when she was suffering the grief of her own marriage to Douglas Jay, the boy from next door in Well Road, which ended in humiliation.
Yet Peggy Jay was the Phoenix of Hampstead, who could champion and rise above hot alien ashes to win the irresistible campaign of the day, and, moreover, make you feel proud to be on – or at – her side.
GERALD ISAAMAN
Retired editor of the Ham & High |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
