As the last bastion of Redcar steel gives up the fight and falls to the ground, former steelworks media chief John Baker takes Mike Hughes on an emotional trip back home.
By torchlight, John Baker picks his way around debris, puddles, invading foliage and so many memories stored inside Steel House.
The landmark concrete building on the edge of Teesworks - the former Redcar Steelworks site -was once British Steel’s Teesside headquarters, and is now being refurbished room by room to create office space as the land around it becomes a park-and-ride for thousands of new workers in the cutting edge businesses that are set to take over the site where molten steel used to lead the way.
We stood in the former media room – a theatre set-up with rows of chairs and a familiar podium whose reading light still worked – as John took in all the changes.
“They are strange memories,” he said.
“There was always a steelworks at Redcar back to the beginning of 20th Century. But when the Redcar developments were made in the Seventies this became an integral part of the site, opened at huge cost.
“It was a place where a lot of decisions were made about building new plants. Unfortunately, in its latter years, it was a place that communications with employees took place in terms of closures.
“So they were sad times in one sense, but in terms of this building in particular, I'm delighted that it's going to be refurbished because it's a really practical building that has stood the test of time.
“There were many, many advantages of working in a place like this in terms of air conditioning and heating and facilities. It was a state-of-the-art construction.”
It’s a building site now, with each floor being cleared back to the bare concrete that had made it such a celebrated design. As we go up the stairs towards the management suite, an arc of offices where John worked, we were told that every textured concrete wall we walked past was hand-poured on the site – no prefabrication for this part of British Steel.
As we arrive on his floor the impact of those final days is clear on him and the building he worked in.
The floor are strewn with paperwork, water and a healthy set of unidentified plants coming up through the floors. There is clearly plenty of work to do here.
John draws a deep breath and takes it all in, stepping over the remains to his former office where he asks if he can take home the nameplate on the door. Of course he can – I remember knocking on that door and that of his boss Phil Dryden many times as the plant rose and fell. They were good people, courteous to uncomfortable media questions, driven and determined to try to make it all work for the owners SSI and their president Win Viriyaprapaikit.
“It wasn’t just about closing this plant in 2015,” says John, now Chair of the board of trustees at Middlesbrough Football Club Foundation.
“There had been a bit of a difficult period, over many years from the beginning of the turn of the century where Teesside suffered the effects of plant closures.
“This was then operating as a business on its own, and we had a consortium deal in 2004 which everybody was delighted about that meant at least ten years of security - as we thought - in terms of producing slab steel, which was going to be used by the constituent members of that consortium.
“But – I suppose typical of Teesside’s luck - by 2008 when the economic crisis came, the consortium members withdrew, simply because it was easier for them to buy steel at a cheaper price than the deal that they had with us in a market which was crazy and unpredictable.”
His respect for the people of Teesside has never wavered – their pride and determination to survive through this brutal mugging of their ambitions left a lifelong mark on him.
“The people in the community around here…..” he says, his voice faltering as he recalls how much it all meant to workers and their families.
“They were so tremendously supportive over that period of time – just full of hope. We had lots of good people working in the steel industry who took quite a few blows over the years, but they always got off the floor and delivered in terms of turning the plant back into a fully operational plant again which was a tremendous achievement.
“And always, always, in the background, you had the communities that were extremely supportive of us and Redcar & Cleveland Council. So, there was a lot of support … and after such a huge investment and re-employment of a lot of people who started the plant up again, we thought this was really the beginning of a new era for us.”
It felt like visiting the body of a good friend as we talked. There were reflections and quiet words as we were given time to view, remember and mourn.
The other giant to visit was the blast furnace – the last man standing, looming over the future of this vast site. This good friend was still with us and had served its people loyally, but John knew it didn’t have long and had come to say a last goodbye, craning his neck to see the size of the legacy.
“When this was built, it was equal biggest in Europe,” he tells me as we stand just a few yards away from it.
“It was quite a feat and produced almost twice as much as they had been producing on the other furnaces at Cleveland. This was in a new league altogether so when this site was developed two blast furnaces were envisaged.
“But by the mid-70s with global competition and prices, British Steel Corporation as was drew back from that and decided just to have the one, which is why there is so much space around here.”
What about his own role in it all, which still continues as a director of the South Tees Site Company?
“I’m very proud ,which I think is one of the aspects of the steel community - those who work on the plant and those outside of the plant, were very proud of what they did. Some of their achievements over the last 20 years in particular, just displayed how proud and how skilled they were.
“There are mixed emotions as I stand here before the furnace today. I’ll never forget my time in the steel industry. But we've had a long time to think about it now, I suppose, and now people are ready to see work here being accelerated. Let's see some new jobs.
“I think the work that's been done in obtaining a lot of film and memorabilia from the site probably puts us in a better position than many plants that have closed over the years to make sure that that legacy is passed on.
“It's not about forgetting an industry that gave us all such a good living and companionship, to be honest. It's about where it's going next.”
Back in the warmth of the Teesworks gatehouse, John says he is pleased the site is not a wasteland permanently reminding people what they are missing.
“What I would have hated to have happened was just see the plant deteriorate further and further and become a place that was just of no use to anybody or the community. I think it gives hope now and a new dawn when we get the right industries, which the plans are there for.
“I would think my feelings are reflected by many others in that we still feel very emotional about it. And when the blast furnace goes down, that will be an emotional moment. But I think there's a lot of good memories that people have as well and Teesside can feel very proud in what they've achieved.
“Rather than looking at this as an end game, I think there's a celebration to be had in terms of 170 years of iron and steel making. We shouldn't forget that.”
There will be a fuller version of John Baker’s return to the steelworks in the next edition of the BUSINESSiQ quarterly magazine. Contact mike.hughes@newsquest.co.uk for details.
Read next:
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules here