The Man Who Changed My Life

The former General Secretary of the National Union of Journalists would have been unimpressed.

He was a Glaswegian, a reporter from the old school. A hard-drinking, story-chasing journalist whose main aim in life was to get it right and get it first. He was also an outstanding trade unionist and a kind man.

Harry Conroy died on April 23rd of an internal haemorrhage and someone who owed him a great deal never noticed.

Six weeks after Harry passed away I was flicking through the Journalist, the magazine of the NUJ, until I reached page 28 and Harry’s obituary.

In the tribute by Francis Beckett and Lionel Morrison one paragraph in particular resonated.

“He was never in awe of anyone. It didn’t matter if you were Rupert Murdoch or the office cleaner. Harry always treated you with the same respect and courtesy.”

In 1988 I was working for the NUJ as a postboy and covering sport for a radio station at the weekends.

My attempts to enter journalism had been knocked back at every turn. I had an American girlfriend and had decided to try my luck over there. Arrangements had been made and I was seeing out the last months of my contract at NUJ headquarters.

Lionel’s term as President was coming to an end and he hosted a party at Acorn House as a thank you to the staff.

At some stage during the evening I fell into conversation with Harry. I was a few beers up and he was on the wine. He surprised me by knowing that my contract was about to end. He had been told I turned up on time, worked hard and fitted in.

“Do you want another contract?”asked Harry.

“No thanks Harry. I am off to America to seek my fame and fortune.” I replied.

When I told him how frustrated I was at my failure to find a job in journalism he was taken aback.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“ What do you want me to do? March into your office and demand a job?”

Harry said he saw my point and he would sort me out.

I doubted Harry would remember our conversation let alone act on it. I should have known better.

The next week a mate of his from Johnston Press phoned and offered me an interview in Wakefield.

When I went to thank Harry he told me he had done what he could and now it was down to me.

I got the job, went to America for a holiday, came back, was sent on a journalism course before starting work as reporter on the Ripley and Heanor News in Derbyshire.

I loved every minute on that small but significant newspaper and it set me up for a career in journalism.

Harry Conroy changed my life. Thanks Harry and rest in peace.