I’m shocked and saddened to learn that Pauline Campbell, the Cheshire prisons campaigner, has been found dead near her daughter’s grave.
Campbell, who I’d met and interviewed on several occasions – most recently just a few weeks ago – was an amazing woman who channeled her grief about Sarah’s death into an emotive and effective campaign for improved conditions within the prison service.
It’s such a poignant and tragic way to die. Pauline seemed incredibly strong but it was clear she was very fragile underneath her steely determination, and found it difficult to move on.
I did the last in-depth interview on her, which appeared in this week’s Big Issue in the North. She sent me a couple of lovely emails after seeing it in print:

Monday:
Ciara
Just read it. I can’t thank you enough, because I think it’s so very well written. I’ve sent a note to Kevin, also, to express my gratitude. He sent it to me by e-mail. I do get the magazine through the post – in fact, it was due to arrive today, but didn’t reach me. Daresay it’ll arrive tomorrow.

Tuesday:
“I read it again last night, several times, after I’d e-mailed you. It is so moving, Ciara, it reduces me to tears. I would go so far as to say it’s the best article that’s ever been written about me – truly. You have an amazing talent there.
“Although it’s about a very sad matter, I think you’ve really come up with the goods.“

She also alerted me to a death last week at HMP Styal, the women’s prison in Cheshire, which is currently listed as “natural causes” but could well change following post-mortems and an inquest.
It brings the total deaths at Styal this year to three – one self-inflicted, one aneurism on the brain and this last one, in which a 32-year-old woman died after developing breathing problems while in a shared cell at night.

She said:
If you’re able to do a news follow-up next week, that would be ideal, at which point [presumably] you could flag up the Styal x 3 deaths. I am very angry about this, Ciara. My intuition tells me something is wrong. Am just having a think about what to do. I am not necessarily going to sit back and do nothing. It needs flagging up, and there are ways and means.

I just hope her work lives on – it will be difficult to find another campaigner with the energy and conviction that Pauline had.

postscript:
The Guardian’s Northern correspondent, Helen Carter, has written a lovely piece about Pauline on the newspaper’s Comment is Free site.

I have been thinking about this all afternoon, and can’t help thinking the timing of Pauline’s death is as poignant as where it happened.
Less than two weeks ago, she learned charges against her in relation to her blocking a highway while protesting outside Styal following a death in January, had been dropped by the CPS.

She sent me a copy of the letter, which came two weeks after she was put through a gruelling pre-trial review – for which she was denied Legal Aid. It read:
“We have carefully assessed both the factors for and against the prosecution in this matter, and paid particular regard to your current medical situation and have decided that it would no longer [* be in the] public interest to proceed further with this matter. We have also taken account of the fact that this incident was generated by the unfortunate death of Lisa Marley at Styal Prison in January of this year which I appreciate will have caused you particular distress.”

Pauline’s response was:
“This prosecution has felt like an attack on my reputation, especially the false allegations made about me by serving police officers. But I believe in standing up for principle because it is one of the few ways in which people can make a difference.
“I refuse to bow to pressure, and will stick to my resolve to hold prison-death demonstrations outside jails in England when women kill themselves in the so-called care of the State. It is mediaeval, and people must speak out.
“Justice Secretary Jack Straw is the one who should be in the dock, not me. I am not the wrongdoer. The message will not go away simply by trying to shoot the messenger.”

Could this abandoned prosecution (or ‘witch-hunt’ as Pauline would have called it) have been the final straw?