When I was a young reporter at the beginning of my career, my boss often sent me to cover press conferences about city matters. The city council had a very enthusiastic public relations chief, and we had three or four calls per week. Usually, the conferences took place in a public room because the city hall didn’t have a press room big enough. Those years, there was a retired officer who knew by heart all the city regulations: from the main laws, to the last of the municipal ordinances. Because he had a lot of free time, he usually went around to uncover things against the ordinances to go in triumph to one of the press conferences and confront the city councillors with his complaints. He was inevitable. He didn’t miss a single one. The public relations chief tried with all his means to make him leave or stay silent but it was all useless. He said he was in a public place and had the right to stay and say whatever he wanted. “For instance, he said the first time I met him, that the wires of the microphones in this room are loose on the floor against the minimum rules of safety”. (The Press Conference was precisely about public safety) Sometimes it was really fun. Sometimes, a little boring, because he talked and talked and no way to let us go on with our questions. We had him as our inevitable companion until the city council decided to get back to the little press room in the city hall

Author: Olga Brajnović

Journalist and writer. I've worked for 26 years in a newspaper in Spain. I worked for two years as a stringer and correspondent in the US and went as a special envoy to other places like the Balkans. Author of a biography. Sea lover. Avid reader. Classic Music enthusiast.

What do you think?

Scroll Up
%d bloggers like this: