THE unexpected death of former Portmore Mayor George Lee has elicited well-deserved tributes for his contribution as a politician and community leader.

The George Lee I am aware of, but never met in person, came across as a pleasant, earnest, determined, courageous, and private human being.

He was your typical “little but tallawah” man who triumphed over odds and challenges, and was confident in his own skin.

The tributes have crossed the political divide as both parties have paid him due recognition, including his one-time mayoral rival Keith Hinds.

But Lee’s lifetime career also crossed political lines, and we are reminded of that by Michael Manley in his book A Voice at the Workplace — to which I am indebted for some of this story research — who said that when they first met at Lee’s workplace, the Jamaica Broadcasting Corporation (JBC), in 1963, Lee was an avowed member of the Jamaica Labour Party (JLP), and a journalist assigned to the News Desk.

Notwithstanding his membership, he was appointed a National Workers Union delegate (NWU) when the union won bargaining rights at the radio station “and proved to be a loyal union member and a vigorous delegate”.

Circumstances were to change that political affiliation, as unwittingly, a year later, Lee was to find himself as a central figure in one of the most famous labour relations battles in Jamaica’s history.

That was the JBC strike, which revolved around the fortunes of two young journalists, Adrian Rodway and George Lee.

The JBC had come into existence in 1957, nurtured by then Premier Norman Manley, with objectives of providing an outlet for Jamaican culture, a forum for discussion programmes, and a source of entertainment and public information.

It rivalled the only other radio station, Radio Jamaica and the Rediffusion network, (RJR).

JBC had a strong nationalistic appeal as it paraded locally produced programmes such as The Verdict is Yours, Carmen Manley’s hit radio drama Shadows of the Great House, news analysis and commentaries from free lancers of the calibre of John Maxwell, Peter Abrahams, and Frank Hill, the Lou and Ranny Show, and the popular Teenage Dance Party.

JBC was seen as a Norman Manley and a People’s National Party (PNP) baby, and so when the Government changed hands in 1962, and Sir Alexander Bustamante’s party took over, the board also changed as expected, but with a stronger ministerial input — no doubt born out of a suspicion and apprehension that the station remained sprinkled with PNP paternity.

On the PNP side there was an inherent resentment of anything new or any departure from the original objectives of the station as set out in 1957.

Michael Manley summed up that collective viewpoint in his book, where he opines that “certainly, the notion of a radio station whose board was appointed by a minister, the initial capital for which had been provided by government, and which was subject to government policy direction, being nonetheless free to attack Government, was beyond Bustamante”.

In such an atmosphere JBC journalists had to tread carefully, and it was said that all stories to do with political or trade union matters were to be cleared with the news editor automatically.

When Lee and Rodway were fired after producing a news story independent of editorial oversight and which reported on the refusal of the minister, Hon Edward Seaga, to accept union claims for a proposed wage increase, things began to hit the fan.

It began with the NWU, led by Manley, demanding the reinstatement of Lee and Rodney, to no avail. Neither side would budge, neither side would blink.

The dismissal and demands brought into play some of the most powerful names across the bargaining counter, with Michael Manley and a young Carlyle Dunkley leading the NWU and K H Ivan Levy, board chairman, and Mickie Hendricks, JBC general manager, on the JBC negotiating line.

Powerful political overtones were also in force as the board reported to Seaga and Bustamante, and the Government was not going to yield easily to a fiery Michael Manley, irrevocably linked to the PNP dynasty, nor to the NWU, the union arm of

the party.

The strike commenced on February 1, 1964, and up to that time turned out to be the longest strike in Jamaica’s labour history, 97 days.

As the days wore on, a

camp was established opposite to the station and

picket lines drawn. The union also used paid newspaper advertisements and radio messages to present their case.

The strike action took to the streets on the afternoon of Thursday, March 5, when the strikers moved to Half-Way-Tree and blocked the road, causing a huge traffic jam, with the police carting off a number of them to jail.

Two days later the group blocked the intersection of King and Barry Streets on a sweltering Saturday afternoon, with Manley himself later ruefully confiding that “as I lay on the street, I was beginning to wonder whether I had condemned myself to an indefinite confinement on a bed of

hot asphalt”.

The protest action attracted huge crowds and was now the focus of all Jamaicans who followed the daily reports in The Gleaner and on RJR.

Some strikers were achieving heroic proportions, with Jeremy Verity tasting teargas for the first time, and news reader Hu Gentles earning the nickname “Jailbird” because of his arrest at both Half-Way-Tree and King Street.

More drama unfolded with the next chapter seeing a dynamic strategic ploy which reads like a James Bond thriller. Manley decided to stage a motorcade which he expected would be turned down by the police as an illegal act. Keeping the lawmen in the dark as to his real intentions, on the appointed day he led a long line of vehicles down Maxfield Avenue expecting the police to anticipate a public meeting and to gather their forces somewhere in that direction to the west.

Halfway down the road he suddenly made an abrupt about turn and relayed messages to his cohort to disperse and take any route they liked, provided they regrouped near the Palace Theatre in the east. With the police outfoxed and still circling in the west, the party then proceeded to Rockfort road and blocked, by pre-arrangement, the road leading to the airport with four cars individually owned by Manley, Tony Spaulding, Hopeton Caven, Ken Sterling, and Manley’s, with the cars

locked and the keys in Manley’s pocket.

The ruse worked, the airport route was blocked, the police arrived late, and a crowd of 12,000 moved on to Harbour View for a public meeting.

Still JBC would not budge, and it’s noteworthy that during the entire 97 days the station remained on the air. A Commission of Enquiry led by Mr Justice Eccleston was eventually agreed on, with findings that Rodney was justifiably dismissed and Lee entitled to compensation but not reinstatement. Workers returned under some terms of protection and the long strike was at an end.

Lee recalled that he had to go overseas to seek work as no local entity would hire him. He returned to Jamaica for a while and left again, returning in the 1990s into his new life as community leader and Portmore champion. A real-time drama that involved a future prime minister and a future mayor in the thick of things. And a biography out there waiting to capture the dramatic career and mixed fortunes of a man named George Lee.

Lance Neita is a communications and public relations specialist. Comments to lanceneita@

hotmail.com