The ongoing momentum of Jo Cox's legacy

So today the anniversary of the shocking murder of Jo Cox coincided with Father’s Day. For me the two are always intertwined. I vividly remember the day of Jo’s murder; I was working for RVS at the time and we had been doing some work with Jo, based upon her passionate commitment to address the issue of social isolation amongst older people. Jo had invited a number of people to her office, sat us down with a coffee and said “I’m going to sit here and listen while you tell me what the real issues are”. Jo was massively keen to help and straightaway began making plans for how she could make a real difference to our work.

That work had only really just got under way by 16th June 2016. On that day I was working from home and had snuck down from my office to have a quick peek at Wales versus England in the European Championship. Whilst I was  peeking my work phone rang. “That’ll be someone checking up that I’m not watching the football” I muttered to my wife. But it wasn’t. It was the manager of our office in Huddersfield ringing up to say “Something’s happened – Jo Cox has been attacked.” A few hours later it was so much worse than that and we were all left numb at the news of Jo’s death.

Jo’s office were bravely carrying on as she would have wanted and by the next day I had a call saying that a memorial fund was being set up in Jo’s memory and RVS were being put forward as one of the beneficiaries so that we could carry on the work she wanted to support us to do. As the other two beneficiaries (Hope not Hate and The White Helmets) were deemed tb political, RVS was asked if we would lead on dealing with the media on enquiries about the fund.

By Saturday I was heading to Birstall to be interviewed by television, staring open mouthed at the mountain of flowers piled up in the square. By Sunday – Father’s Day – I found myself heading up the M1 at 6.00 a.m. for a live interview at St Peter’s Church ahead of a service for Jo. Then back home, opened my Father’s Day presents, and back off to Birstall for more interviews. Over the next week it was humbling to see and hear first hand the massive love and esteem which so many people had for Jo. The message over and over again was “she wasn’t like a politician; she was just Jo and she wanted to help all she could”.

I was asked to host the Batley More in Common event, timed to coincide with the bigger event in London. Powered by the Love Like Jo campaign this event managed to turn a tragic event into a tangible celebration of a community being brought so much closer together in the face of an act planned to rip it apart. On the evening of that event there was more filming in Birstall and as I waited for Look North to start filming a taxi pulled up next to me. “I’m not wanting a taxi mate” I said. “No” came the reply “I just wanted to say how great it was today, and how brilliant she was”.

The fund took on a life of its own and raised an astonishing amount. As well as RVS’s share enabling it to carry on its important work, the attendant publicity thrust the issue of social isolation amongst older people onto centre stage, making everybody sit up and take notice.  And of course The Great Get Together has now become a regular fixture in the life of the country.

Jo’s senseless death was shocking and horrific, but charged by the momentum that she was already building up, and driven on by the determination of her family, friends and colleagues, the work that she was doing to combat social isolation just carried on, getting louder, stronger and more focused. Everyone, including those of us working with her at the time, said that her only real motive for being a politician was to make a meaningful difference to people’s lives. Her legacy continues to do that every day.