1975 Hope is Remembered
About this event
On the third of September 1975, Hope died in my grandmother's kitchen. I met Philip Russel, aka Wally Hope, when I was seven in 1974, he showed me pictures of Stonehenge and talked of peace, freedom, and optimism. He lived in my grandmother's attic, sent them crazy postcards from far-off places... I thought he was the coolest adult I had ever met. I never forgot him. He changed my life.
Years later I Googled Philip and was astounded to find out what he had started. He is still creating ripples across the internet, from conspiracy theories to tributes from punk bands. Was he murdered in my grandmother's kitchen? Were my grandparent's spooks? This is the story of my search for Hope told through shadows and sound. Hope is not forgotten, he is remembered.