Jo Cox recollected by Sarah Brown

The assassinated MPs drive, appeal and focus are recalled by her friend, the campaigner and former prime ministers wife

I was lately asked to sum up Jo Cox in simply one word and what instantly has now come to attention is a word that doesnt properly exist. Unstoppability. It seems to perfectly describe the utterly irrepressible sort of Jo as a mighty force for good. Formerly she had engaged first gear, she accelerated to fifth and stayed there always in a straight line but with room for manoeuvre and usually moving lots of interference until that particular jaunt was over. Overrule was never an option and the next pilgrimage was always in propose. Jo was relentless and got things done, almost always with a genuine smile on her appearance. But behind that smile prepare a purpose.

I had already heard about her before our first convene. At Oxfam, where she worked until 2009, she was rightly considered a treasure that rare high-achiever who everyone from fanny to top could relate to and I knew that she had also worked for Glenys Kinnock, who was a huge follower. Perhaps that natural they are able to connect had been sharpened at Cambridge University, where her confidence took knocking after slam, but she was never defeated and developed so much stronger. By the time we assembled, she was constructing motions. I was told: You will like her. And I did.

Jo was wildly enthusiastic and joyful and so forceful in get parties to join our campaign. I think it says so much about Jo that she changed her name three months before she wedded Brendan as she started her new position working with me, because there would be no fiddly paperwork distractions that might interfere in her new wedding and her brand-new job.

Jo Cox, photographed by the Thames, where she lived on a narrowboat. Image: Family photo

While I lived and labor at 10 Downing Street, Jo became the director of the maternal mortality safarus I had founded with the White Ribbon Alliance and we worked closely together. She had great know-how as an assist employee and had expended time in Bosnia getting to controls with the changes for women caught up in conflict. Few expeditions introduce the wage of success and ours had been long-fought by many maidens but Jo and I had connected coerces at a time when the door was ready to open. We laboured during a time of enormous breakthroughs in reducing maternal extinctions and both of us emerged with a genuine faith that change was always possible. Jos role was to charm beings into submission and find common ground, even where others conceived their differences were insurmountable. I like to think Im good at doing that. Jo was better.

The recollections that I will never shake are of Jo, pregnant in New York with her son Cuillin, running around lining up a board of VIPs to speak up for pregnant mothers, Jo back in London with baby Lejla perched on her hip at a Labour Womens Network dinner while sacrificing a brilliant addres in praise of feminism and activism, and finally a color image of Jo, with Brendan, sitting in our home in Scotland after the 2010 referendum sharing, talking, plan, positive not a hint of looking back.

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