ASBO, Noise, and the Shadows of Rochdale

By The Dale Blues Investigations Desk

When Rochdale Council hands out titles like ASBO and Noise Manager, the public expects professionalism, not quiet collusion. Yet Paul Fletcher, the man behind that role, stands at the crossroads of questionable company and unresolved scandals. Fletcher’s friendship with John Bulmer—“Wacko” to those who know his ways—remains no secret. But what lingers in the background is far more troubling: the origins of the Meadows management committee, a creation tied directly to PC Alan Lowe, later seen to masquerade as “DS Wilkinson.”

Our editor knows these names all too well. History runs deep with Lowe, and with officer John Mead, who once confirmed that the Meadows was never merely a police initiative. It was a playground for bullies. Those same Meadows bullies, we are told, egged on the farmers who shot Lulu—a community tragedy brushed aside under a blanket of silence.

Meanwhile, community ventures meant for hope and renewal were hijacked. Marcus Pearson, a figure who once rang the alarm bells on Rochdale corruption, helped himself to more than influence. Allegations swirl that Pearson siphoned Awards For All grants—funds meant to empower residents—not for grassroots projects but for ski holidays, backyard expansions, and a string of so-called “ten club” programs.

Worse still, betrayal cut closer to home. Former deputy editor Dale Nugent—parading as “John Dale Gifts man”—sacked our editor from his own enterprise, only to repackage it under the banner of Imagine Community Consultants Ltd. The word “imagine” was supposed to mean fresh beginnings. Instead, it became a synonym for control, theft, and reinvention at others’ expense.

Our editor does not forget the positive sparks that once flickered in Rochdale. At Sparthbottoms Community Association, groundwork was laid in good faith, observed even by Paul Rowan. But Rowan’s fall—dismissed by a blood brother loyal to the Keast family—proved that truth in this town is fleeting, loyalty thinner still.

Pearson was right about one thing: Rochdale is riddled with corruption. But he himself became part of the very machinery he condemned. And Fletcher, Bulmer, Lowe, Mead, and their circles of influence have left us with the same bitter question: Who, in Rochdale, is left to trust?

—The Dale Blues