Why I love Coventry, winner of the 2021 UK city of culture | Helen Jones

True blue. It means to be loyal, steadfast, unwavering in friendship and commitment. Hardly surprising, then, that the phrase originated in Coventry. The city has always stood behind its own, so I was not surprised to see it trending on Twitter last week as Coventry entered the final phase of selection for the 2021 UK city of culture, a title it eventually (and quite deservedly) won. Share the word, spread the news, big it up – Coventrians from far and wide came together to support their town, including me.

Even though I haven’t lived in Coventry for many years, it remains part of me. Every visit, every walk in the Precinct, each wander through War Memorial Park, feels like coming home. A city seen through a child’s memories and an adult’s eyes, Coventry, to me, has always been a city of culture. It has ebbed and flowed with the times, rebuilding again and again: from the blue cloth made in medieval times and renowned for not fading (hence the phrase), to silks and ribbons, then automobiles and jet engines.

The jets that took me halfway across the world had their origin in Coventry – Sir Frank Whittle, inventor of the turbojet engine, was born in Earlsdon, not too far from where I used to take dance lessons. My Australian husband was intrigued to learn that Sir Henry Parkes, known as the “father of federation” in Australia, was also a Coventry local, born to a tenant farmer in Canley. We went to find his birthplace, a charming brick and half-timbered house at the end of a lane of modern homes, but a “private property” sign on the gate warned us away. I got the feeling he wasn’t the first Australian to show up there.

Living in Coventry, we were brought up on the legend of Godiva, of a woman who stood up for what she believed in, even at the price of her own dignity, and of a man who looked when he shouldn’t have – another phrase, “Peeping Tom”, entering the vernacular as a result.

We were also brought up on the idea of conflict and forgiveness, the ruined shell of our cathedral in the town centre a potent message of the devastation of war, the words “Father forgive” etched above the altar a reminder of the power of peace. The cross of nails, made from medieval nails found among the shattered remains of the roof, has been replicated and sent around the world, including to another broken cathedral, Dresden – a message of reconciliation from one city to another.

Coventry has also left its mark on popular culture and the arts, particularly music. I used to catch my bus home from school outside 2-Tone studios, now lost to time and the Central Six shopping centre, its legacy living on in the music of bands such as the Specials and the Selecter. Pete Waterman, of the wonderfully upbeat songwriting and producing trio Stock, Aitken and Waterman, who helped shape the sound of the 80s, is also a Coventry native. And in more recent times bands such as the Enemy, whom I’ve watched rage across a tiny stage in front of a delighted crowd, have kept Coventry very much on the musical map.

Actor Clive Owen is from Coventry, as is the poet Philip Larkin and, when I sat down to write my first book, Coventry inspired the story that came to the page.

When I watched the film submitted by Coventry as part of its UK city of culture entry, it left me a little misty-eyed. Something about the mix of ancient spires and modern buildings, the people talking about “our Cov”, past, present and future, made me prouder than ever to be a Coventrian. It was the city I’d always known, polished up and presented in its best and most wonderful light. Ghost town? I don’t think so. As the line in the 2021 bid video says, the ghost town is gone, moved on. Long may it be so.

• Helen Jones is a writer and blogger