The reluctant housing hero: how octogenarian Derrick Cutler has campaigned tirelessly for his neighbours

From warehouse worker to housing advocate, octogenarian Derrick Cutler has seen Limehouse transform in real-time and fought on behalf of his neighbours for the right to safe social housing

Summer 2017. There’s an uneasy stillness in the London air. It lingers like smoke and northwest of the city, there is smoke. Where there is smoke, there is fire. 

Grenfell Tower has burned and 72 people have died. In the mourning period that follows, politicians and city councillors rush to action – or to look as though they are taking action. It’s a weary tale: the low-income tower residents complained their building was not safe. They were brushed off. Then it was too late. The cladding caught fire and many of those residents perished. 

Grenfell was the wake-up call that borough councils and housing associations should not have needed. Nonetheless, it led to widespread reviews of building safety in council estates across London. Kensington and Chelsea, the local authority for Grenfell, was far from the only neighbourhood with stark wealth inequality. In Limehouse, midcentury concrete blocks still housed tenants paying social rent, now in the shadow of Canary Wharf’s skyscrapers. 

One of these blocks is called the Barley Mow Estate. Completed in 1968, it has seen generations of families grow up along the Thames’ eastern shores but has been plagued with the same fears as so many tower blocks – that cheap cladding could lead it to the same fate as Grenfell.

The decision was made to remove the cladding, revamp the building and welcome residents back to safer homes, at no cost to them. Or at least that was what the residents were told. In reality, construction which began in late 2017 set off a chain of events which continues to disrupt and distress those who call the estate home. 

One man at the centre of the estate continues to advocate for his neighbours. He is a defender of the people, though you would be hard-pressed to get him to admit it. This is the story of Derrick Cutler, a Limehouse legend who continues to support the community in a legal battle with the council which they hope to resolve at the end of the month. 

Cutler is a reluctant hero. When you speak to him, you realise the octogenarian guards a lifetime of remarkable stories, though he always steers the conversation away from himself. His physical presence is that of a grizzly bear minus the grizzly part. He is a stereotypical grandpa, his spine slightly curved – a remnant of years working in warehouses and construction. 

The Chair of Barleymow Resident’s Association (RA) is not in it for power. In his own words:

‘I took over the job for sufferance – because nobody else wanted it.’ 

His son Mark adds with a chuckle: ‘He’s a thorn in the council’s side! I used to work on the council, and I hated it when he called me up!’

Cutler is an unlikely protagonist in the Barleymow saga, much the same way that the council is an apologetic villain. It’s a story of inconvenient truths. Although for Cutler, there is something simple at the heart of it all: an undiluted love of Limehouse – the corner of London in which he was born, raised, brought up his children and has lived his entire life. 

His unrelenting enthusiasm for the city which others have abandoned for greener grass and quieter roads, shines through. He swells with pride when he describes the beauty of Ropemaker’s Fields, and is reflective, not bitter, when he ponders the transformation of the Docklands which he has witnessed in its entirety. 

Cutler was one of the first residents to move into the newly built Barleymove Estate in 1968. He, his wife and their three children below ten were delighted to live in a home with a bath. From the way Cutler describes it, the novelty has yet to wear off. 

It’s that passion for place, alongside his commitment to loving thy neighbour, that keeps Cutler in a position of advocacy for fellow residents after years of legal strife. 

The Barleymow Estate was built the same year as and using a very similar design to Ronan Point – the infamous Newham tower block which collapsed in 1968 after its reinforcement structure failed to survive a gas explosion. Malting and Brewster Houses were fitted with additional reinforcements way back then, to prevent a similar disaster. Nonetheless, a 2018 building safety review conducted in the wake of the Grenfell fire, found Barleymow’s cladding was flammable and its reinforcement walls failed modern standards of structural integrity. 

Surprisingly, the cladding was a relatively recent addition – it was fitted in the 1990s. The flawed reinforcements, however, date back to when the estate was first built. In 2018, the cladding was removed using government funding, and the council decided to to reinforce the flats with new materials. There was a snag: the Council would not be paying for it. After originally being told they would not be liable for the cost of making Barleymow safe, residents were informed they had to fund the construction works. Depending on the size of their flats, leaseholders were quoted charges ranging from £50,000 to £80,000. 

Residents started to be ‘decanted’ – that’s the official term, believe it or not – from their flats in 2018 so that construction work could begin. The council worked to rehouse them yet many have had to live in homes far away from their schools, places of work and community. Leaseholders who were unable to afford the charges sold their flats back to the council at below-market rates and the charges were deducted from the sale amount.

Cutler talks about multiple residents who were forced to leave the estate. One was a woman he had seen grow up on the estate who inherited her mother’s flat and was forced to sell it back to the council when she could not afford the charges. He mentioned another low-income resident who suffered from addiction and mental health issues whose condition deteriorated after the construction began. Despite hoping to stay in Limehouse, the man eventually moved overseas so that his remaining family could support him. The combination of financial pressure and disruptive, delayed building work has worn down residents’ resistance. 

The dispersal of residents during the construction process, which was supposed to take 18 months but entered its sixth year in 2024, has meant that many are not aware of meetings with the council and consultations where they are supposed to have a say in what is happening on their estate. 

As the Resident’s Association chair, Cutler has been trying to maintain contact with those forced to leave the estate. His mobility has declined since he took on the position 14 years ago. He has seen people grow up on the estate and is a sympathetic ear for those who have been forced to leave, eager that their stories be shared. He calls people to try and find out where they are, to let them know when meetings are taking place and to prevent the injustice that residents have suffered from being forgotten. 

It is in Cutler’s nature to maintain this connection with his neighbours. As a young man, he ran a youth football league: ‘Shadwell F.C. – that’s what we used to call ourselves.’

He is still the friendly face greeting visitors to St Anne’s Church every Sunday, handing out hymn books and catching up with parishioners. 

Cutler is Cockney to the core. First, he was a checker in a tea warehouse in Oliver’s Wharf, next to the Town of Ramsgate pub. The boozer remains, but the warehouse became Wapping’s first luxury flat conversion. His wife –  like him, a born-and-bred Eastender – worked as a school cook for 40 years. She saw the student demographic shift from 95 per cent Jewish to majority Bengali. When she runs into former pupils today, they still call her ‘Cook’, Cutler tells me. 

When his employers relocated to Bristol, the couple could have gone too. London had a hold over them, however, and instead, Cutler says: ‘I went into the building game.’ He and his brother worked for various contractors responsible for the Docklands’ transformation.

You could be forgiven for assuming Cutler’s age would mean more regressive views on the changing face of East London. Yet Derrick thoughtfully reflects on the changing tides of Limehouse life and staunchly defends the area as a place where outsiders are welcomed and supported. 

‘Great love for one another – that’s what I believe in. Great love for my fellow citizens, my church family, my own family… I just feel that if we don’t show that love to other people, we won’t get love back,’ he told me. ‘And you share your life. I love talking to people and hearing what they have to say. When you hear some of the stories, you think to yourself: how did they manage to handle that?’ 

‘It hurts me to think that we live over here and we don’t see half of what goes on in the world. Sometimes we…we hide behind things because we don’t want to hear what’s going on, where we should be.

Derrick Cutler

Living in a diverse community has shaped the way Cutler connects to others. He values cultural differences beyond the benefit of international takeaways – though he appreciates those too. The rich mix of people, traditions and cultures is a key part of what keeps him in the area.

‘Tower Hamlets over the years has had so many different cultures and different nationalities coming in. And I think it’s an enrichment. It’s absolutely marvellous to think that we’ve had all these things happen here, we’ve got people who’ve come to live here and they want to stay here. And to me, that’s absolutely fantastic.’

Of course, things are not quite like they used to be. People don’t stop to say hello as often as they once did. New people move in and don’t always bring community spirit with them. Cutler’s life has changed too – his three children moved away from London, and these days, he relies on a cane or mobility scooter to get around. He is not fazed – it would take much more than that to dampen his enthusiasm for his community. He repeats the phrase:

‘You can still get involved by phone.’ 

And that’s what he does. The full-time workers and busy parents of Barleymow Estate are spread too thin to fight its legal battles. Like other retirees who now chair RAs, Cutler can keep the estate top of mind. There are fewer commitments to wear down his resolve, so he carries the torch of indignity for the whole estate. 

It’s starting to look like it may have been worth it. On 11 July, the Upper Tribunal for land disputes ruled for the second time that Barleymow residents could not be held liable for charges to reinforce the building. The judgement came in response to the council’s appeal against a 2023 judgement which ruled in the residents’ favour.

Cutler is quick to dismiss suggestions that he’s played a large role in proceedings. Modesty aside, his commitment to the community is palpable, and he’s razor-sharp whenever he discusses the facts of Barleymow’s case against the council. He does not hesitate in recalling what happened when and remains deeply affected by the departure of residents who could not afford the construction charges. 

His descriptions of the past blur into the present, but not in a way that suggests confusion – he clearly distinguishes between now and then, whilst the unabated flow of memories reflects one thing that has not changed: his unabashed love for Limehouse and his determination to fight for his neighbours. 

Read more about how Poplar’s housing has changed: Examining Poplar’s decline in council housing over the past 20 years