Alan Lord - Life in Strangeways--From Riots to Redemption, My 32 Years Behind Bars

F or the past thirty-two years Ive had something at the back of my mind, hidden away in one of those little memory boxes stored in your subconscious. When I looked back and thought of what happened to someone Id known from my teenage years, it changed my mood and made me feel sad. He was a boy from the same area I lived in, north Manchester, who attended the same youth clubs as me in the late 1970s. We also shared the same taste in music and a circle of friends. He always seemed to be happy and polite; he was well dressed and very popular with the girls.

His name was Alan Lord, and hed since become a convicted murderer. He was also involved in the worst prison riot in British history, at HMP Strangeways in 1990.

Alan was nineteen when he and his friends went out one night and committed a stupid act that would change their lives especially his forever. Worst of all, it ended in a man losing his life.

Alan was charged with murder in 1981, but throughout the years he kept trying to clear his name. There were too many inconsistencies surrounding the case. Had Alan Lord confessed under duress? Why was he interviewed without a solicitor present? Was he offered a phone call at any time? And what was the truth about his claim that he was beaten for several hours before he signed a statement he couldnt read properly, as his head was bent down to one side on the table whilst his hands were tied to the bottom of it? These allegations would be made in court when Alan finally had representation, but cut no ice with the jury. Instead, he got a life sentence that spanned thirty-two years in various prisons.

Alan had no intention of harming anyone, let alone causing a mans death. It was a mistake, a robbery gone badly wrong, a senseless spur-of-the-moment action that cost him thirty-two years of his life. Much of Alans time was spent in the segregation unit, in solitary confinement, living in inhumane conditions without respect for human dignity. He also had to endure physical brutality and racial abuse on an almost daily basis.

I was young at the time but I never forgot what happened. Id later read reports on the internet, after reading about his escapes and captures in the Manchester Evening News during 1990/93. I also read about the mistreatment and inhumane conditions he had to endure throughout his incarceration.

When I found out that Alan remained in prison in 2010, I couldnt believe he was still fighting the system after all those years. I wrote to Kingston Prison in June 2010 after a report that Alan was up for a parole board hearing, but received no reply.

After finding out from an old friend that Alan was still in prison in August 2012, I decided to find out where he was but had no luck. On 30 January 2013 I wrote to the prison service to find out if hed been released or if he was still being held somewhere in the country. I wanted to contact Alan and write a book about his life experiences, to hear about the injustice, treatment and brutality he had endured during his time in prison, but most of all I wanted to find out about the crime he was alleged to have committed, as there were always rumours that he may have taken the rap for someone else. (Years later, a pathologists report would suggest two bladed weapons were used against the victim not just the knife that Alan was carrying.) I wanted to hear about his determination to change the way prisoners are treated and to stand up and fight for their human rights, no matter where they were incarcerated. But I couldnt find where Alan was and I didnt get a reply from the prison service. I wasnt going to give up but, at that moment in time, I had to put finding Alan to one side because of work commitments.

Then, in April 2013, I finally got in touch with Alans niece, Yasmin, by chance on a social network. She told me hed been released in December 2012, after being shipped around from prison to prison. I gave her my contact details for her to pass on and waited to see if Alan would get in touch with me. I didnt expect him to remember me from thirty-five years ago. I just hoped he wouldnt think I had anything to do with the prison service or that I was a reporter wanting an interview for a newspaper.

Of course, I didnt know if hed want to drag up the past or for me to write a book about his life. I waited for a week but didnt hear anything, I just thought he probably didnt want to contact me and wasnt interested in anyone writing about what hed been through. I felt a bit deflated, but contacted Yasmin one more time to ask if shed sent my contact details to her uncle. To my surprise, she said he was going to get in touch with me.

Later that day I received a text message from Alan. He apologised for the delay and explained that he lived in Liverpool, and had just started working in a recycling plant. I texted him straight back and we made arrangements to meet up the following Sunday afternoon.

I was excited and had a good feeling about the whole project. We texted each other during the week, and I thought his messages sounded positive. But at the same time I felt a little apprehensive because I didnt know what to expect.

Sunday soon came around and I met Alan in The White Room, a wine and coffee shop in Whitefield, near to where I live. I felt anxious. I was worried about the state of mind Alan might still be in after all those years alone, confined to a small space, without contact with the outside world. I wondered how he was coping with all the changes, the noise of being around people, the new technology, or even public transport. I just didnt know what I was letting myself in for.

Before I could even contemplate writing this book, I had to ask Alan some very personal and intrusive questions. I needed him to trust and confide in me. I needed first of all to find out about the crime he was sentenced for, the murder charge. I had to ask him if there was any intent to kill someone even though I knew deep down that would have made him psychotic, and I didnt believe he was a madman. I also had to find out if, after spending all those years in prison, he was of sound mind, or whether he was impaired by drugs or alcohol. If I was to write his autobiography, I needed him to be 100 per cent honest and tell me the truth in his own words.