For anyone who has worked on a local newspaper – or wondered how one gets put together – Three men and a quote is a must read. Charting the careers of three journalists from the 1960s to their retirement last year, it gives a fascinating insight into the quirky personalities, amazing stories and bizarre events that are part and parcel of life in a bustling newsroom.
I actually had the pleasure of working with the authors – Ken McEwan, John Dowling and Philip Elms – during the early part of my career, all of whom were unfailingly supportive to the regular influx of fresh-faced but naive young hacks, taking the time to patiently explain how the industry worked, the importance of building contacts, and what we were expected to deliver.
Having subsequently moved on to large regional and national titles, I now regard the years spent on local newspapers as the most enjoyable and satisfying of my working life so far. I loved interacting with readers, pricking the pomposity of councillors, standing up for those whose voices would not otherwise be heard, and enjoying the camaraderie and black humour supplied by my colleagues.
Reading this book brought back happy memories of those times and reminded this rather jaded hack what first attracted him to journalism. Those who go straight from university to a national rag may sneer at anyone who shuns the so-called glamour jobs in favour of spending their careers reporting on events in their home towns, but local papers represent everything that is good about the profession.
Of course, I didn’t appreciate that back then. I was as desperate as anyone to pack my cuttings file full of enough big stories to get me on one of the London papers. In fact, I can remember my heart sinking when I was sent to provide holiday cover at the Bexhill Observer. This was where I first met John (Dowling) who, by that stage, had clocked up the best part of 35 years’ service on the paper.
At the time I was in my second year as a reporter on the Hastings Observer and thoroughly enjoying the diet of hard news stories that a fairly tough, underprivileged seaside town generated during the mid-1990s. Being dispatched to the comparatively sleepy confines of neighbouring Bexhill felt like a prison sentence. What on earth would I report on? Did anything actually go on there?
The two weeks I spent there turned out to be a real eye opener and I learnt more about dealing with people, covering a news patch, writing balanced news reports, and providing what readers of local papers actually want to hear about, than at any other time in my career. John also happened to be terrific company with a tremendous sense of humour and his finger firmly on the pulse of everything that happened.
One of my favourite anecdotes was recounted by a colleague who had also spent some time in that office. While walking through the town centre the director of a play that had been written about in the paper shouted across the road: “Didn’t think much of your review, John”, to which he replied quick as a flash: “Didn’t think much of your play!” That was why he had such a great reputation. He was always fair and honest – two traits to which every reporter should aspire.
By a twist of fate I ended up moving back to Bexhill a few years ago, and although he’ll flatly deny it, the Observer is not the same without his presence. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a good paper but you can’t discard almost 50 years’ experience and knowledge of a town’s inner workings without something special being lost.
The same goes for Philip Elms and Ken McEwan. The way these three were allowed to leave the industry with barely an acknowledgement of the years of service and hard graft they had put in - to the detriment of their families and social lives - tells you all you need to know about the way in which local newspapers are run these days.
Who knows whether men of their calibre will be prepared to give the same dedication to the profession as they did for a combined total of almost 150 years? I doubt it, to be honest. They are among a dying breed but I will always be grateful, not only for the support, encouragement and enthusiasm they supplied when I was starting out, but also for the wonderful pang of nostalgia I had while reading their book.
To order a copy go to their website here
