Poppy Ann Miller
I have been supporting and writing to Jeremy since I watched ‘Crimes that Shook Britain’ on television. I was shocked at the lack of information and evidence in the public domain, ashamed of my lack of knowledge – felt guilty that twenty six years had passed since the murders of all of Jeremy’s family and all that time I had been gullible in my acceptance of the ‘story’ as presented and promulgated by the press and others. A myth has grown up around this tragedy and it appears to me that it is deliberately fostered by those who have a vested interest in continuing that myth and for whom the truth is a very dangerous thing; the ‘outing’ of which will result in lives irrevocably changed.
I live a few miles from White House Farm where Jeremy was raised by his adoptive parents Nevill and June Bamber. Sheila, his adoptive sister arrived a few years later. In his letters to me Jeremy writes fondly of his childhood, his happy days at Maldon Court School, at the top of Market Hill and of two of his favourite teachers, Miss Carter and Miss Robinson. He writes of his French lessons from aged six and the French au pairs that looked after him, alongside his mother, until he was eight-and-a-half; he reflects on his memories of a ‘lovely little school - happy days’ and recalls fondly how his mother would drive him to school even in wet and icy weather.
Jeremy’s father, Nevill, was an agricultural farmer grew and sold various crops which Jeremy would deliver to local outlets, one being Copsey’s fish shop in Heybridge, a ten minute walk from my home. Jeremy’s father grew Pentland Javelin potatoes especially for Copsey’s. Jeremy would deliver them and says that recalling delivering potatoes to Copseys is full of happy memories. The owner would give him a portion of chips made from them and Jeremy writes, ‘No other potato, chips like it’. Jeremy asks me whether the shop is still there and speculates as to whether one of the sons now runs it. Copsey’s is still there, I have sent a picture of the shop to Jeremy assuring him that I ‘see’ us both buying fish and chips there and celebrating his freedom; though the ownership did not continue through the family line – which I have not told him; silly I suppose but the romantic in me wants to protect Jeremy and help him keep some consistency and contact with his past.
Jeremy writes of his father and his love for him and how he pictures his father giving him encouragement and advice. He says, ‘my father walks with me’ and he wonders how his father would respond if in the same situation.
I feel humbled by Jeremy’s attitude - I wish I were more like him. He does not complain or whinge - he just gets
on with it….persisting in his goals with no bemoaning the obscenity of the injustice surrounding him. He expresses gratitude for any help and contacts he receives. He always writes within a few days of receiving my emails and letters. Many of his letters to me are tear- stained – with my tears - not his….. An equal injustice is that the-man-in-the-street apparently would rather continue to believe this concoction and distortion of the facts. How I wish that instead of the vast expenses entailed by the current Leveson Inquiry in pandering to mealy-mouthed politicians and so-called celebrities would instead be used to look at the true nature of the threat to this country and its democracy; that being the corruption in high places of government and police, many of whom know very well that Jeremy is innocent and yet do nothing to address what must be the longest miscarriage of justice in the UK.
Jeremy’s Campaign Team are not cranks, the people who support him are not ‘conspiracy theorists’, they are ordinary people, many of whom, with an open mind, took the time to consider the evidence. So I would encourage others to visit Jeremy’s website and do the same because they cannot fail to conclude that Jeremy could not have committed these murders. If I had one sentence it would be,
‘Read the evidence, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain, bearing in mind that this could happen to you or one of yours.’