The Village That Refused to be Bypassed: A Study of Survival
History isn't just about the grand opening of a new building; often, the most important history is about what didn't happen. In South Portslade, the greatest victory of the 20th Century was a road that was never built.
To the planners of the late 1960s, our Victorian terraces were just lines on a map—obstacles in the way of a proposed dual carriageway "Relief Road." But to the residents, these were homes, livelihoods, and a way of life that had already seen the departure of industrial giants like Gigins Bakery.
A short distance from the main junction, in the building that many will remember as the former sweet shop run by Mrs Hunt, a new kind of business opened its doors. It didn’t sell jars of sweets or pocket money treats; instead, it became the 'War Room' for the South Portslade Action Group (SPAG). Led by the formidable June Lucas—known to her family as the 'Amazon Mum'—this campaign HQ, with its simple tables, chairs, and sprawling council maps, became the frontline of a community's resistance.
This is the story of how that "War Room" saved our streets, how it inspired Mike Simpson to create the Southern Cross Club, and how—even when the big battle was won—the community had to face the quieter challenges of yellow lines and closed streets that changed the face of our local trade forever.
The architectural landscape of South Portslade owes a great debt to the grassroots activism of the mid-20th century. One of the most significant, yet perhaps under-shared, stories is that of the South Portslade Action Group (SPAG).
The Threat to Church Road In a period of aggressive urban redevelopment, plans were drawn up for a dual carriageway designed to link the Old Shoreham Road directly to the coast. This project would have necessitated the demolition of many homes, particularly those at the southern end of Church Road. Residents were already being offered alternative housing as far away as Peacehaven.
Grassroots Resistance Led by the instrumental June Lucas, SPAG was formed to protect the interests of the residents and the integrity of the village. The group was not just about protest; they established a physical presence in the community through the SPAG room, which served as a hub for the local organisation.
Preserving the Village Centre.
Because of the group's tenacity, the dual carriageway was defeated. Today, Church Road remains a vital residential and commercial centre of Portslade, rather than a transit corridor.
The "Handy" Corner: A Micro-History
The Routine: Residents would "drop the car around the corner" (likely in the top of Bamfield Street or the Victoria Road spur) to pop into Mick’s Bakery for their daily loaf or the Newsagents for the paper.
The Disruption: By closing the through-access at Bamfield Street, the council turned a flowing street into a cul-de-sac, making it much harder for passing trade to "pop in."
The Irony: After fighting so hard to save the houses from the dual carriageway, the businesses then had to fight the council’s "parking and traffic management" which, in its own way, was just as damaging to the village's commercial centre.
Connecting to the SPAG "War Room"
The fact that the SPAG HQ was situated so close to the heart of the village—operating out of Mrs Hunt's former sweet shop—means the activists would have seen these changes unfolding right on their doorstep. From their vantage point, they would have watched the introduction of the yellow lines and the shifting traffic patterns in real time. It’s likely that the battle for parking and local access became the second 'front' of their campaign, fought once the immediate threat of total demolition had been pushed back.
The "Past Life" of South Portslade
The Era of Industry: When Gigins dominated Franklin Road and Norway Street, providing jobs and feeding the village.
The Era of Threat: The 1970s, when planners looked at these Victorian streets and saw "traffic flow" instead of a community.
The Era of Resistance: The SPAG "War Room" where residents said "enough is enough."
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From Petitions to Pints: Life in the Southern Cross
While the work in the SPAG "War Room" was serious business, the spirit of the group was truly forged in the social functions that followed. It was these very dances and get-togethers that gave Mike Simpson the inspiration to turn that corner building into a permanent fixture: The Southern Cross Club.
For those of us who remember it, the club was the definition of "cosy." You didn’t just walk through a front door; you headed for the side entrance on Victoria Road and made your way up the stairs. Once inside, the world of traffic plans and demolition threats felt miles away.
"For those of us who remember it, the club was the definition of 'cosy.' You didn’t just walk through a front door; you headed for the side entrance on Victoria Road and made your way up the stairs. Once inside, the world of traffic plans and demolition threats felt miles away. It was a classic setup—two rooms knocked into one, a bar at one end, and a small stage that felt like the centre of the universe when a DJ was playing. With the building's exterior painted a smart, clean white, it stood out on the corner as a proper 'Member’s Club'—a place where the neighbourhood truly came together."
But as Mike reminds us, even this victory had its price. While we were enjoying the merriment upstairs, the council was busy downstairs, painting the yellow lines and closing off the top of Bamfield Street. It was a reminder that even when you win the war, the landscape around you never quite stops shifting.
Coming Soon: The Bridge, the Church, and the Bottleneck
While the victory of SPAG saved the heart of our community from being sliced in two by a dual carriageway, the battle for South Portslade had another front: the railway bridge.
For over a century, the original 1850s arched bridge acted as a natural "gatekeeper" for the town. It was a beautiful piece of Victorian engineering, but it was also a major pinch point that dictated exactly what could—and couldn't—enter our streets.
In our next deep dive, we’ll look at:
The Great Lowering: How the removal of the arch and the lowering of the road level invited a new era of heavy lorries into the village.
Our Lady Star of the Sea: A tribute to the much-lamented church that stood just south of the bridge—a landmark that survived the threat of the bulldozers in the 70s, only to be lost to the community in later years.
- The Ripple Effect: How changing one bridge altered the flow of life (and trade) all the way down to Bamfield Street.
We are currently seeking any original documentation, photographs of the SPAG shop, or personal anecdotes related to the group's activities. If you can help, please get in touch.
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