Edward Heath faces my tough question.
Because fame often outlives relevance, interviews and press conferences with the former-famous are like eighth grade dances, an odd mix of familiarity and awkwardness.
Ex-anythings, most political wives and a lot of authors fall into the category of people we may have heard of but don’t have a connection with beyond the repetition of their claim to fame. Interesting but not really newsworthy.
Edward Heath
Such was almost the case for me with former British Prime Minister Edward Heath. For him, I had a tough, embarrassing question. Well, sort of.
In 1988, when Heath came to Charlotte, he was long past the zenith of a public career arc that spanned 50 years. Like a lot of the formerly famous Heath didn’t come to Charlotte to admire the gardens or tall buildings. The city isn’t known for either. He came to the Queen City for a payday, specifically to speak to a civic group that was fond of formerly famous people from the international stage…zzzzz
During the early 70’s Heath was Prime Minister during a tumultuous four years of labor unrest, economic struggles and bloody IRA headlines . After losing the PM, job he slinked to the backbench of Parliament where he served for another 27 years.
Heath was a charming fellow who began his press conference by saying that he didn’t have a statement but would be “delighted to respond to your queries.”
What followed was a dreary list of unmemorable “What do you think about” questions from reporters who obviously got this assignment with the expectation that there wasn’t much expected, which is another way of saying they hit the newsroom jackpot.
I waited until all of these so-called serious questions were asked before asking about Salisbury, England, his home.
Salisbury is the home of a great Cathedral and is the jumping off point for millions of tourists who annually visit and try to figure out Stonehenge, which is about 10 miles from the Cathedral.
When I visited Salisbury in 1987 a tour guide told me that we would have to make a five-minute walk from the bus parking lot to the Cathedral because Heath objected to having buses in the area around the Cathedral called the Cathedral Close. The tour guide was miffed that the former PM had somehow pulled rank locally to get the buses banned.
Back in Charlotte, it was payback time for my formerly sore feet and an unknown, annoyed tour leader. Actually, I knew that neither my question nor his answer would get into anyone’s story, including mine. But there he was, so why not?
“Mr Heath,” I asked, “will you ever relent in your objection to allowing buses in the Cathedral Close in Salisbury?”
Surprisingly, he took the question very seriously and wanted to know where I’d heard that. I told him a tour guide was my source.
Then he said, “Well, I wish had enough sway to keep the wretched busses out for eternity, what will all of their fumes, I think it is quite proper that they not be allowed in the close.”
Then he smiled, either at the oddity of the question, or the assumption that he had enough pull in Salisbury to get the buses banned. The press conference ended on that note.
Heath died in 2005. Apparently when he departed this world he had enough sway in his hometown to be buried in the peaceful confines of Salisbury Cathedral itself where, outside, the buses are still banned.
