My unique filing system was uncovered during renovations
Jewish Telegraph 70th anniversary edition, December 4, 2020
Deputy editor Mike Cohen recalls meeting famous faces and encounters with royals
THE Jewish Telegraph has been an ever-present in my life. From always seeing it around the house in my younger years to spending 33 years (and counting) working here.
I have my late grandmother, Etty Lennard, to thank for landing a job with the paper.
She saw the advert for a trainee reporter in 1987 and encouraged me to apply for an interview.
I’ll never know how I got the job. Only a few weeks earlier I had spent three hours working at a meat-packing factory before I did the most Jewish son thing possible — ringing my mother to ask her to telephone the company with an excuse about why I had to go home.
Somehow I don’t think they bought her reason as their parting shot to me was that I should apply for a job at Mothercare.
So there I was sitting in an office with Jewish Telegraph editor Paul Harris being asked why I wanted to work for the paper. I can’t remember my answer, but I do remember turning the conversation to heavy metal music.
Weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything so I assumed I hadn’t got the job. I was on the brink of accepting a job selling insurance door to door (at least I would have got more use out of my JT interview suit) when I finally received a letter from Mr Harris (as I called him for the first few weeks).
The news room was a much different place when I started on May 10, 1987. The reporters all used typewriters that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the British Museum — not that the typewriters affected me as I was banished to the filing room for the first few months.
Years later, when the offices were renovated, my ‘filing system’ was revealed. Basically, I’d just been dumping everything behind the cabinets.
I remember the joy when my first ‘In Brief’ was published in the paper. It may have only been about five lines long, but it was a Pulitzer Prize-winning piece of work. It was about a year before I stopped putting briefs in my scrapbook.
Eventually I was set loose on longer articles. When I think back, I find it hard to believe we actually used to get a paper out.
I shiver when I think back to how the JT was produced before we all had computers.
It’s no surprise that some Thursdays the paper wouldn’t be printed until the early hours.
Researching articles has changed considerably too. In the olden days, we had to rely on encyclopedias, reference books and, ahem, our files.
Nowadays, we have Google — although we do have to be careful with what we take from Wikipedia.
And landing interviews is a lot easier too. Whereas before there was nothing you could do if the person’s press officer didn’t fancy setting anything up, now you can just bypass them and go straight to the celebrity.
While this does work a lot, it can backfire when you need that press officer for something else.
On the subject of celebrities, I’m proud of the fact that I’ve introduced many Jewish Telegraph readers to the delights of heavy metal.
One of my earliest interviews was with Fish, when he was still lead singer of Marillion.
I travelled to Stoke to interview him before a Marillion concert about the song White Russian on the group’s album, Clutching at Straws.
The song was about the rise of antisemitism in Europe and the “heralds of the Holocaust”.
After the interview I stayed at the venue for the concert, but started to feel pretty ill.
I managed the hour-long drive back to Manchester, but collapsed when I got home. I was off work for three weeks and I’m sure that I read that Marillion had to cancel a number of dates due to Fish being ill too.
In September, 1996, I lined up an interview with a young television presenter. The interview didn’t take up much space as not many people had heard of him. Like, whatever did happen to Sacha Baron Cohen?
Among those I’ve interviewed have been Oscar-winning actor Roberto Benigni, former Genesis guitarist Steve Hackett, former Kiss guitarist Bruce Kulick, ex-Megadeth guitarist Marty Friedman, Bruce Springsteen drummer Max Weinberg, Bob Dylan’s son Jakob, Rush legend Geddy Lee and Anthrax guitarist Scott Ian.
The latter two are perfect examples of persistence paying off. I’d been trying for at least 20 years to get them both. And after cultivating a good relationship with their PR guy, I was offered 20 minutes with Geddy in London.
And from that I was offered Scott a bit closer to home in Manchester.
Another memorable encounter was with film director Judd Apatow and actor Seth Rogen.
I was part of a group of about 10 journalists who were given an advanced screening of the pair’s film Knocked Up in 2007. After the film we were bused to a Salford hotel where we were told that we’d have around 20 minutes with each of them. As we all trooped in to the room with Seth, I was pulled to one side and told that I’d be having a one-to-one with Judd.
And to make it even more special, midway through our time together, his wife, actress Leslie Mann, joined the interview.
Then, while the other 10 journalists were herded into a room with Judd, I was taken for a solo face-to-face with Seth.
Two years later, I was invited to meet Judd again to plug his Funny People film in London.
In my early years, most interviews were face-to-face. I spent many hours backstage at concert venues interviewing stars, but now interviews are carried out mainly on the phone.
A year after I started at the Jewish Telegraph, I managed to blag myself a ticket to the Monsters of Rock festival at Castle Donington, thanks to the bill including Kiss — who regular readers know are led by Paul Stanley (Stanley Eisen) and Gene Simmons (Chaim Witz) — and David Lee Roth.
The day was notable for being the first UK appearance by up-and-coming rock act Guns N’ Roses. During their set, the 100,000-strong crowd surged forward forcing the group to urge people to back away from the stage.
That, coupled with the awful weather, saw me seek shelter backstage (not as glamourous as it sounds). Unbeknown to most people, two fans died during the Guns N’Roses set — it was only announced at the end of the day.
Of course, there were no such things as mobile phones in those days. So it wasn’t until I got home that I discovered my mother — in typical Jewish mother mode — had spent the day ringing every hospital in the Derby/Leicester/Nottingham area to make sure I wasn’t one of the dead or injured.
There have been a number of dark moments. The saddest was having to write an obituary for Amy Winehouse in July, 2011.
I was driving to a holiday home in Cornwall when news broke of her death.
I had interviewed her when her debut album, Frank, was released in 2003. This was before she covered herself in tattoos and sadly became the addict that the music press seemed to be egging on towards an early demise.
I had arranged another interview with her for classic second album Back to Black in 2006, but it kept being cancelled with various excuses being given. It then came out about her drug-taking and rehab. Unfortunately, I never had another chance to interview her and, even now, almost 10 years after her death, I still find it upsetting to listen to her music.
Such a wasted talent and a tragedy.
My biggest challenge came in 1992. News reached us that the Jewish Echo had gone out of business in Glasgow. So I was immediately dispatched north of the border, armed with nothing more than a camera, notebook, a list of addresses and an A-Z. For those under 30, an A-Z was a book of street maps produced for each area — these were the days when a satnav was something you saw in a science fiction film.
I spent the day driving around the Glasgow community, introducing myself to people, finding stories, taking pictures of anything I could find and then headed back to Manchester, tired but fulfilled.
It was one of the most incredible experiences of my career when the first Glasgow edition was published that Friday.
And it felt so good the way the Scottish community took us to their hearts.
It wasn’t quite the same when we launched a Midlands edition a few years later.
I headed down the M6, but found it harder to find news. The people I met were just as friendly, but it didn’t have the same feel as Glasgow.
And I don’t think it helped when the first front page story was about prostitutes using the synagogue’s car park as their place of work.
My job has also brought me into contact with royalty on a few occasions.
Twice I’ve had to follow Prince Philip around Heathlands, the Jewish old-aged home in Manchester. And it was such a scrum with all the other reporters and photographers. Each time I’d get home bruised.
It was my ego which was bruised when I had to cover the visit to south Manchester’s Morris Feinmann Home by Diana, Princess of Wales.
Myself and another reporter were following her around as she was introduced to residents. She then turned to us both and asked: “Are you leaving now?”
We exchanged curious glances with each other and I replied: “No.”
But the royal said, “Yes, you are” and we were ejected.
My job has changed a lot over the years. Since becoming deputy editor I don’t get the chance to write as much anymore.
But I still get a thrill setting up interviews for others to do.
This year has been a challenge for obvious reasons. Catching Covid-19 wasn’t in my plans, but thankfully I’m now over it just in time to celebrate the Jewish Telegraph’s 70th anniversary.
You’ll be pleased to know, I’ve saved some anecdotes for the 80th anniversary when, fingers crossed, I would have been here 43 years.
