Richard Stott's memorial service today was a superb tribute to him. The man who twice edited the Daily Mirror, twice edited The People and finally edited Today was remembered in three addresses that reflected his journalistic career and his role as a father and husband.
The order of service carried a picture of Stott with a quote from the disgraced Tory minister Ernest Marples, whom Stott - when a Mirror reporter - revealed to be a scoundrel: "You are the worst journalist I have ever met. The most aggressive man I have ever met in my life".
That accolade gave Stott more pleasure than any other, it noted, and the choice of quote set the tone for what was said of him at the service in St Clement Danes church, at the head of Fleet Street, where Stott married his wife, Penny, some 38 years ago. It seemed somehow fitting that the place was surrounded by cameras because of the Princess Diana inquest. As a Diana admirer, he would have liked that.
He would certainly have loved to hear actress Nicola McAuliffe - wife of Mirror reporter Don Mackay - sing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot. More than that, he would have been proud of the way his family conducted themselves, with Penny reading a poem, and a poignant address by his daughter, Emily. She revealed much about him that his journalistic colleagues never knew, such as his love of jam-making, baking bread and an obsession with punctuality. She gave a wonderful portrait of a loving father who enjoyed rugby, cricket, theatre and art. At the same time, she brought out his irreverence.
That was certainly the motif of the memories of the Sunday Mirror editor Tina Weaver, who paid tribute to the campaigning and crusading journalist who had been her mentor. Though she was his boss during the years when he wrote a column for her - and the paper's editorials - he was, in her view, always her boss. He was inspirational, she said, a "spotter and nurturer of talent" who ran conferences that were a cabaret act. However, she didn't shy from mentioning that he could be brusque too. If he said something was "total crap" it probably meant it was good. If he ignored you, then things were certainly bad.
She had obviously spoken also to many of Stott's former Daily Mirror colleagues, collecting hilarious anecdotes, about the long, liquid lunches of the past in those favoured Mirror watering holes, the Stab and Vagabonds. The funniest story by far was the recollection about the day the news editor Tom Hendry presented his list at conference. All eyes went to the seventh story on the list, saying that Martians had landed in Siberia.
Stott: "You're sure about that, Tom?"
Hendry: "Yes, Richard, it came from Pravda, a very reliable source."
Stott: "You're absolutely sure?"
Hendry: "Yes."
Stott: "In that case, why isn't it at the top of the list?"
Weaver also pointed out how, following Robert Maxwell's death and the revelations that he had "borrowed" his staff's pension funds, Stott set his best reporters on the story and carried on despite the management demanding that he stop. Stott refused, explaining that he was doing his best to protect the integrity of the Daily Mirror.
Alastair Campbell recalled Stott's first and last words to him. The first time they met, in the Stab of course, he asked Campbell: "Are you the kid who hit Bob Edwards?" Edwards was then editor of the Sunday Mirror and Campbell, while on the Mirror training scheme in Plymouth, had playfully tapped Edwards on the cheek. But the legend of a boxer's blow lived on. Stott hired Campbell on the basis that he had struck the venerable Edwards and it proved to be the beginning of a relationship that endured till death.
Stott was later to show understanding when Campbell suffered a nervous breakdown. Campbell recalled that Stott, when editing The People, offered Peter Mandelson a column. Stott was later to remark: "It was the first column in history written by more people than read it." The 400 and more people in the church laughed loudly at that, none more than Mandelson himself.
When Campbell came to write his book on his years as Tony Blair's director of communications he chose Stott to edit it, and the book was published only just before Stott died in July last year. When Stott lay dying at his home, Campbell visited him and Stott said simply to him: "Take care, old man."
Stott called everyone "old man". He was sharp-elbowed. He could be bloody rude. He alienated some people. But the testament to his success as a journalist, and to the fact that he was loved by so many, was evident in the church.
One former Mirror reporter, Frank Thorne, had even flown 10,000 miles, from Australia, to attend. As Tina Weaver pointed out, there were nights when Thorne was trying to make it back from Vagabonds to the office, that he walked almost as far. It was that kind of occasion - a celebration of a Fleet Street we all loved so well, and miss so much. As we do Richard Keith Stott.
