"Mischievous and inaccurate," sneered Muldoon; there were bullets in the mail, and "nigger-lover" phone calls. A tireless letter-writer, pamphleteer, chronicler, analyst, activist and strategist in what became a revolution, Tom Newnham continues to stand for a better New Zealand.
Beware the Imperial typewriter. Beware the big, black, early-plastic rotary phone. Its whirring dial. The Gestetner, too - the cranking of it, the ceaseless issuing forth of the cyclostyled sheet. For these instruments, in the wrong hands, were capable of changing this country forever.
And did they fall into the wrong hands? Yes, they did. The man's name was Tom Newnham. Before there were desktop publishers, he was one. Before networking was ever defined, he was doing it. He became, it seemed, the secretary of everything, and his brick bungalow in Auckland's Dominion Rd became the headquarters ...
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