Jubilation at Labour headquarters

Press, Volume CXII, Issue 33084, 27 November 1972, Page 1

Jubilation at Labour headquarters

The telephone call from the defeated Prime Minister came at 9.45 p.m. Mr Kirk, who might or might not have been expecting a call from Mr C. R. Marshall (the Labour winner in Wanganui), picked up the telephone and quietly asked: “Which Mr Marshall did you say?”

Once the caller’s identity had been established, Mr Kirk’s end of the conversation went like this:

"Hullo, Jack. “Well, we did that. “Thank you very much, and thank you for ringing. "However, we had our disappointments in other years, so I suppose it was our turn. But one thing, this is democracy, what is happening on the ’phone tonight.” Putting the telephone down, Mr Kirk turned to his aides and said: “Well, he’s conceded. He said that from the size of the shift, it was obviously the time for a change.” As press photographers

moved in to capture the moment of victory, the new Prime Minister told his supporters: “I’ve only one regret, that Mum wasn’t here.” (Mr Kirk’s mother died earlier this year.) After pictures had been taken with his wife, Ruth, his son, Philip, and his only brother, Torrey, Mr Kirk held his first press conference as Prime Minister — and it must have been a remarkable sight. For election night, the Labour Party had the use of Rowe and Company’s premises in Wordsworth Street, Sydenham and the conference took place in the manager’s office on the ground floor while more than 100 supporters released the inhibitions of 12 years in the outer offices and in the cafeteria immediately overhead. Impromptu victory dances on the cafeteria’s bare boards almost drowned the valiant efforts of several pipers, and the general noise level would have put most pop groups to shame. “BIG CHANGES” After the conference, Mr Kirk went upstairs and addressed his supporters. i “There are going to be big i changes," he told them. “The (voters have struck down ex- ■ tremism in this country, jwhat they have done in the : ballot box today shows that ■democracy is safe. Now we I have got to get on with the 'job of making dreams come ' true.” i With deafening cheers still i ringing in his ears, Mr Kirk i returned downstairs and reI taxed briefly. “How do you feel?” a re- ! porter asked, remembering that Mr Kirk had made 97 speeches in the last three weeks. "Tired,” was the reply, but there was nothing tired about (the smile that came with it. As further Labour gains were announced, the smile broadened. “You’d better

ring the Government Architect and get a bit put on the caucus room— we won’t get them all in,” Mr Kirk joked to an aide. Then the calls started coming in. "My immediate plans?” he echoed, when Radio Hauraki telephoned. "My immediate plans are to go home and have some sleep.” DOOR-TO-DOOR At 10 minutes past midnight, Mr Beetham telephoned with Social Credit’s congratulations. “You put up a good showing,” said Mr Kirk. Two of Labour’s Christchurch candidates came into the office—a jubilant Mr B. G. Barclay and a disappointed Mrs M. Clark. Mr Kirk congratulated one and comforted the other. Another telephone call came in. "You can’t win without the door-to-door work,” said Mr Kirk, thanking the caller. “That’s me,” said an aide, with deep feeling. Two priests sat in the inner office for much of the evening, and did not seem unduly distressed at the way the election went. They nodded approvingly when Mr J. Kennedy, the editor of “Tablet,” telephoned from Dunedin. A Press Association reporter telephoned from Wellington, asking if preparations were being made to abolish the Remuneration Authority. “Yes, we’ll keep our promises,” replied Mr Kirk. “We made them in good faith. Before Christmas.” Almost his last words before leaving for home about 1 a.m. came when somebody mentioned publicopinion polls. “It would do a great deal more good for the country,” said Mr Kirk, “if the money spent on public-opinion polls was given to the Intellectually Handicapped Children’s Society.”