- guardian.co.uk, Sunday September 22 2002 00.30 BST
- The Observer, Sunday September 22 2002
The day the Friday-Ad comes out, Tony Greenstein looks at the the accommodation-to-let section, appalled. He works with the Brighton and Hove Unemployed Workers Centre, and is the veteran of several anti-racist battles. 'White person, no DSS.' His first thought is that it's somebody close to the BNP trying to provoke some argument about free speech. He issues an angry press release: 'This is an exclusion clause reminiscent of the 70s proviso in adverts "No dogs, no blacks, no Irish".'
Others have noticed it, too, and are angrily phoning the Friday-Ad and the Commission for Racial Equality to complain.
Mary is only 56, but she's disabled, with pains in her arms and legs that make it hard for her to walk. The doctors aren't sure what's wrong and she's going for tests. She doesn't like to cry, but the other day, when trying unsuccessfully to open a tin of beans, she found herself bursting into tears.
She used to be a nurse, but had to stop working. To ensure an income, she bought a studio flat a couple of years ago. The girl who's been living there has to move out - she's becoming a student and can't afford the rent any more.
The calls on Mary's mobile start on Friday morning, when the paper first appears. She is feeling a little poorly, so she ignores them until the afternoon. The first she takes is from a man. At first he sounds normal. 'Which number is the flat?' But then he repeats her advert over and over angrily, 'White person. No DSS.'
Mary thinks: he's a nutter. What's he on about? That's not what her advert said at all. She'd read her copy out clearly to the girl at the Friday-Ad: 'Quiet person. No DSS.'
Rattled, Mary tries to check the paper, but her disability means she can't make it to the shop. It's embarrassing. Sometimes people think she's drunk when they see her trying to stand.
She rings the Friday-Ad. That's when the paper admits there has been a mistake. Lamely, the man there suggests she unplugs her phone.
But Mary's scared now, because she's already given out the number of the flat to that first caller.
She considers not answering the phone, but won't that make the callers even angrier now? So she starts answering. She has no idea how many.
One asks, 'Have you ever fucked a black man?' One girl compares her to the criminal landlord Nicholas Hoogstraten. Mary's never heard of him. She thinks he's maybe a pop singer. Few give her the chance to explain that it's all a mistake.
She understands why people are angry. She doesn't comprehend why the Friday-Ad would think it's OK to put 'white person' anyway. She has lived abroad herself, spending years in India and Iraq, and sponsors a child in Zimbabwe.
But it's the threats of violence that really scare her. 'Don't worry,' says one person. 'I'll find you.'
The calls continue until late at night when - now terrified - she turns off the phone. She doesn't sleep, thinking about the man who now has the flat's number. What if he went round and attacked the girl there by mistake?
The stress makes the pain in her legs worse. In the morning a former tenant helps her into a taxi. But when she tells the driver why she's having to make the journey, he says, 'Oh yeah? That's just been on the news.'
Southern FM is repeating the story about the racist advert. Mary has to call them to explain that it has been a horrible mistake. The radio station back-pedals furiously, issuing public apologies.
But the damage is done. Mary worries she'll never be able to rent her flat. She's too scared to advertise it again in case one of the people who threatened her turn up. What if a racist applies?
Only one thing good has come out of it. The anti-racist campaigner Tony Greenstein phoned her up at the weekend. He says she should be claiming disability living allowance, and he's sending her the forms to apply for it.
