Will we soon have no more unarmed police officers?

Due entirely to a combination of my over reliance on an aging memory coupled with being too lazy to trundle down to the Public Library to check this newspaper’s archives, I incorrectly stated that the steeple had been concreted over rather than have its granite pointed.

Both my critics are absolutely right – I should have checked and there’s precious little I can offer by way of an excuse for not doing so. Mind you, I don’t know how of them got the idea that I was under the impression that the edifice had been concreted ‘in the last few years’ when I specifically referred to the ‘idiotic decision’ having been taken the better part of 25 years ago.

Perhaps while I am undertaking to do a little more in the way of research before I press the button which sends these weekly offerings on their way, that particular correspondent could get whoever reads her this column to read it to her again.

As to her comment that ‘perhaps you do not realise that the side facing north does not get any sun so the lichen thrives in a darkish, damp environment’, may I say how perceptive of her to notice that about the sun. Thankfully, I’ve known that since, under the excellent guidance of class teacher Elizabeth Gautier (later Elizabeth Le Miere) and head teacher Arthur Carter, I learned the rudiments of what was then called nature studies with many of those lessons being held in the meadow to the south of Trinity School.

However, the fact that something faces north is no excuse whatsoever for allowing it to get into the state it’s in – something which one of my critics at least chooses conveniently to ignore. Shooting messengers rarely eradicates problems and there is a problem with the appearance of Holy Trinity Church’s steeple which continued parsimony on the part of the authorities responsible will not cure.

Other than that, Trinity is a beautiful little corner of Jersey, always assuming of course that no one gets me going on the parish’s attitude to speed limits and other road safety issues.

WHILE on the subject of Trinity but only in a very roundabout way, I was saddened but not surprised by the disclosure in a letter in this newspaper last week from Hugh Gill, who commented on how inappropriate it appeared to have armed police officers patrolling the Royal Jersey Agricultural and Horticultural Society’ showground the previous Saturday.

It is an unfortunate fact of life that most of us view anti-terrorism measures as a necessary evil, although that does not stop some of us – and nor should it – from commenting on the more stupid aspects of some of these measures, and particularly how they are interpreted by the Rent-a-Grope mob at the security searches at the ports.

I could be wrong but it seems to me that the use of armed police officers has now gone way beyond that of calling them out for specific incidents involving potential danger to life to the extent that the day is approaching when unarmed officers on patrol could be the exception rather than the rule.

Unless there was a specific operational reason for armed officers to be on patrol at an event at the RJA and HS showground ten days ago then I concur with Mr Gill’s view – their presence in such circumstances and at such a location was inappropriate and most people would be a good deal happier if it were not repeated.

ALTHOUGH I did not know him personally, I was saddened to read last week of the death of Nigel Truscott – someone whose name in recent years has become synonymous with the St John Ambulance Brigade.

I suppose it is a measure of how well people associated with voluntary organisations do in promoting the outfits they represent that we tend to do what I’ve just done and automatically linked Mr Truscott’s name with that of the ambulance brigade.

Ever since I was a child attending country shows, gymkhanas and even football matches at Springfield, I have almost come to expect the presence of the familiar dark uniforms – grey tops for cadets, as I recall – and, as an aside, I have often wondered what they carried in those white pouches slung over their shoulders.

Nigel Truscott seems to me to be yet another in a long line of Island residents whose exemplary contribution to the well being of their fellow citizens can be categorized by the epitaph that they put much more into the place than they ever took out. Thankfully, although I doubt he would agree – few in that category do – his service to the community was recognised by his Sovereign with him being made a Member of the Order of the British Empire. In the midst of their sadness, his family must be enormously and justifiably proud.

And finally,

Last Monday came and went without a contribution in these columns from either inhabitant of Chez Clement – one of the extremely rare occasions on which that has happened in more years (decades, even) than I care to remember. I will not go into detail but simply say that because of somewhat indifferent health I was unable to drag myself to the 21^st century typewriter upon which these words are created. I will also refrain from repeating in detail Herself’s comment about whatever it was which ailed me being my own fault but I can assure those who criticise my occasion foray into a calvados bottle that on this occasion not a drop had passed my lips – and that’s the truth! I’m better now.