Yes it is the middle of June. But I was flicking through my files and came across this which I had saved from the Visteon Pension Action Group website last Christmas. Those hardy pensioners are still fighting their battle, into their second year now, and this story is still relevant and I hope that by next Christmas it will be irrelevant. For further news and to see their progress visit:
http://www.visteonpensionactiongroup.co.uk/
Just for the record I am not a Visteon pensioner although I support their cause having many friends and relatives who are! [Pride forces me to point out I am not even a pensioner!] However I have been known to send the odd lobbying email and attend the occassional rally and meeting. They deserve your support, not only because if Ford/Visteon get away with 'dumping' their debt into the PPF other large companies could follow suit.
Read and enjoy!
A Christmas Carol With apologies and reverence to:
Charles Dickens, 1812-1870, a great social reformer
Visteon UK's GHOSTVisteon was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of its burial was signed by KPMG, the administrators. Ford knew about it. And Ford's name was good as that of a blue chip, well respected global business.
Visteon was as dead as a door-nail.
Ford knew Visteon was dead? Of course Ford did. How could it be otherwise? Ford and Visteon were linked for I don't know how many years. Ford was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event however, because he said it had nothing to do with him as he carried on making money due to underpaying Visteon part prices and allegedly not transferring all Visteon pension monies due from the Ford to the Visteon pension fund.
Ford never painted out Old Visteon’s name. There it stood years afterwards, at many plants in England, Wales and Belfast.
Once upon a time -- of all the good days in the year, just before Christmas 2009, miserly Ford’s accountants sat busy gloating over their newly announced profits. One of the office staff had let two people in. They were from the Visteon Pension Action Group, pleasant to behold and representing 3000 others, and now stood in Ford's office. They had books and papers in their hands from the past showing past promises.
'We have no doubt you will wish to honour your promises’ said the gentlemen, presenting his credentials and documents.
At theses ominous words Ford frowned, and shook his head, and handed the papers back.
‘This has nothing to do with me, this is history and history is bunk’ he cackled.
‘What are our members, your former loyal employees who have been cheated out of their pension contributions supposed to do, especially after all your promises to them?’ enquired one startled gentleman.
'Is there no PPF?' asked Ford.
‘Why should the PPF and the taxpayer have to pay for your failed promises?' said the gentlemen. ‘Even Mr Brown and his colleagues are looking into this case, as is the Pension Regulator and the Unite union’
‘Oh. ' said Ford. ‘Has this really anything to do with me? I think this is from times past.'
Ford dismissed the gentlemen from his office and grudgingly allowed his workers to leave for the Christmas holidays. He went home to his lonely but palatial mansion and sat to eat his sumptuous meal. Shares were rising and profits looked good.
As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, and he saw this bell begin to swing. It swung so softly in the outset that it scarcely made a sound; but soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. They were succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below; as if some person were dragging a heavy chain. Ford then remembered that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains. Then he heard the noise much louder, on the floors below; then coming up the stairs; then coming straight towards his door and without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in Ford cried, 'I know him Visteon’s Ghost!'. Visteon drew a chain clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Ford observed it closely) of cash-boxes, keys, padlocks, ledgers, deeds, and heavy purses wrought in steel. His body was transparent; so that Ford, observing him, and looking through his waistcoat, could see the two buttons on his coat behind.
Ford had often heard it said that Visteon was all smoke and mirrors, but he had never seen it confirmed until now.
'How now.' said Ford, caustic and cold as ever. 'What do you want with me?'
'Much.'-Visteon's voice, no doubt about it.
'Who are you?' Ford questioned.
'In life I was your partner, Visteon.'
Ford fell upon his knees, and clasped his hands before his face.
'Mercy!' he said. 'Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me?'
'Ford of the worldly mind!' replied the Ghost of Visteon, 'do you believe in me or not?'
'I do,' said Ford. 'I must. But why do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me?'
'It is required of every man,' the Ghost returned, 'that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow-men, and travel far and wide; and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world-oh, woe is me!-and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness. I wear the chains you, Ford forged for me in life. You made them link by link, and yard by yard; girded by you and your will I wear it. Is its pattern strange to you?'
Ford trembled more and more.
'But you were always a good man of business, Visteon,' faltered Ford, who now began to apply this to himself.
'Business!' cried the Ghost of Visteon, wringing its hands again. 'Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!'
'That is no light part of my penance,' pursued the Ghost. 'I am here to-night to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping Visteon’s fate. A chance and hope of reparation, Ford.'
'You were always a good friend to me,' said Ford. 'Thank'ee.'
'You will be haunted,' resumed the Ghost, 'by Three Spirits. Without their visits,' said the Ghost, 'you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. '
The apparition walked backward from him; and at every step it took, the window raised itself a little, so that when the spectre reached it, it was wide open.
Ford closed the window, and examined the door by which Visteon’s Ghost had entered. It was double-locked, as he had locked it with his own hands, and the bolts were undisturbed. He tried to say 'Humbug!' but stopped at the first syllable. And being, from the emotion he had undergone, or the fatigues of the day, or his glimpse of the Invisible World by the ghost of Visteon, or the annoying conversation of the gentlemen from the Visteon Pension Action Group, or the lateness of the hour, much in need of repose; went straight to bed, without undressing, and fell asleep upon the instant.
The Ghost of Christmas PastFord awoke suddenly, it was so dark, that looking out of bed, he could scarcely distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his chamber.
Visteon's Ghost bothered him exceedingly. Every time he resolved within himself, after mature inquiry, that it was all a dream, his mind flew back again, like a strong spring released, to its first position, and presented the same problem to be worked all through, 'Was it a dream or not? '
Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains of his bed were drawn aside, I tell you, by a hand. Not the curtains at his feet, nor the curtains at his back, but those to which his face was addressed. The curtains of his bed were drawn aside; and Ford found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor which was a strange figure-like a child.
'Are you the Spirit, sir, whose coming was foretold to me?' asked Ford. 'Who, and what are you?'
'I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. Your past. Rise! and walk with me!'
As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood upon an open country road, with fields on either hand. The city had entirely vanished. Not a vestige of it was to be seen. The darkness and the mist had vanished with it, for it was a clear, cold, winter day, with snow upon the ground.
'Good Heavens!' said Ford, clasping his hands together, as he looked about him. I was young here!' As they watched a factory began to grow in front of their eyes and to one side a calendar was rapidly flicking through its days as the seasons and the years changed. Many Christmases went by as the men came out happy and singing and joking. Some were walking, some cycling, some in cars. The factory grew bigger and obviously more prosperous. Lorries were leaving with completed cars on them and other lorries were entering with parts etc. In the latter years some lorries with parts had ‘Visteon’ painted on the side and some of the men were now leaving from areas marked ‘Visteon’. However there was a sense that this was all just one great big happy family of Ford.
The Spirit gazed upon Ford mildly. Its gentle touch, though it had been light and instantaneous, appeared still present to the old man's sense of feeling. He was conscious of a thousand odours floating in the air, each one connected with a thousand thoughts, and hopes, and joys, and cares long, long, forgotten.
'Your lip is trembling,' said the Ghost. 'And what is that upon your cheek?'
Ford muttered, with an unusual catching in his voice, that it was a pimple; and begged the Ghost to lead him where he would.
'You recollect?' inquired the Spirit.
'Remember it!' cried Ford ' Of course.'
'Strange to have forgotten it for so many years!' observed the Ghost. ‘So perhaps history is not bunk after all?'
Suddenly they were in a room where Ford appeared to be making Visteon – still alive and appearing to be thriving – promises and guarantees.
‘Your workers will have guaranteed mirrored terms and conditions for life’ was just one of them.
‘And their pensions?’ said Visteon.
‘Oh yes, guaranteed for life’ said Ford. ‘We will recommend the pension deal to your workers don’t worry. Start your new venture.’
'Spirit!' said Ford in a broken voice, 'remove me from this place.'
'I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,' said the Ghost. 'That they are what they are, do not blame me!'
'Remove me!' Ford exclaimed, 'I cannot bear it! I cannot afford to remember the past. History has to be bunk.’
The Ghost of Christmas PresentSuddenly Ford was back in his own bed and waking up all over again, he got up softly and shuffled in his slippers to the door where he saw a strange sight: In easy state upon his couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and held it up, high up, to shed its light on Ford, as he came peeping round the door.
'I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,' said the Spirit. 'Look upon me and touch my robe!'
Ford did as he was told, and held it fast and realized he was once more flying through the air attached to a Spirit, in and out of houses belonging to Visteon Pension Fund Members who were holding an uneasy first Christmas after the death of Visteon.
In nearly every house that the pair entered the same thing was being said in different words, accents and languages:
‘Who would have thought this time last year that we would be in this predicament? We trusted Visteon and Ford – they said we would never lose our pensions and mirrored terms and conditions and look at us now. Already we have lost so much of our pension and if the PPF take over and if that fails as many financial analysists predict we will lose everything’.
One dear old couple were crying because they could no longer afford to pay their daughter’s mortgage and she would have to sell her house and bring her three children back to live with them in very overcrowded conditions. Another man who had given a lot of his pension to charity was feeling very guilty that although he had a Christmas dinner he had not been able to give to others as he usually would have done. Another elderly man had had to cancel his annual visit to Australia to visit his far away family, to which he had been looking forward all year. And so it went on and on until after visiting nearly 3000 homes, Ford began to feel very, very uncomfortable.
Some households were determined to keep an optimistic air and were having toasts to ‘when we get justice’ but Ford could see the strain on many a face. So many were looking to UNITE to help them from their trouble now that Ford had deserted them.
Somewhere a bell struck twelve.
Ford looked about him for the Ghost of Christmas present but saw it not. As the last stroke ceased to vibrate, he remembered the prediction of old Visteon, and lifting up his eyes, beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming, like a mist along the ground, towards him.
The Ghost of Christmas Future
The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. When it came, Ford bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery.
'I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?' said Ford.
The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand.
'You are about to show me shadows of the things that have not happened, but will happen in the time before us,' Ford pursued. 'Is that so, Spirit?'
The only answer he received was a nod of the head.
This time the Spirit took Ford back to many of the households that he had visited with the previous Spirit. And what a change he saw. Many now lived in smaller houses and Ford could see that where families were now crowded together relationships were suffering. In some houses friends were talked about who had passed away in the past years due to the strain of not knowing what was going to happen. And as one pensioner said:
‘Of course, the PPF going under was the final straw. All those other companies following in the Ford/Visteon precedent caused that to happen and no government or UNITE would have been able to sort that problem out.’
‘Spirit’ cried Ford ‘Does this mean that there are more than just mine and Visteon pensioners in this position now?’
The Spirit flung wide his arms to encompass the dirty streets, and run down shops and businesses in what Ford now recognized had been a bustling part of London in 2009.
Ford felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and wish to recompense all those he had wronged. He knew that if he went back to Christmas 2009 he could still do so. But would he do it? The future could be changed if he had the will and had learnt his lesson that history was not bunk.
When this story is re-written in 2010 we will know….
EndGwyn Bailey BA 2009 ( blaengwynfi@hotmail.com )
Lecturer in English Literature and Popular Culture with a special interest in:
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens
