Obituary - Roy Rogers, former industrial correspondent of The Herald

Died: March 15, 2018

ROY Rogers, who has died aged 73, had heard all the jokes. The best ones had been made by the man himself.

When his parents named him Roy Rogers, little did they know that it would become part burden and part calling card for their son who became the London-based industrial correspondent of The Herald. It certainly drew extra attention to his by-line. (For younger readers I should point out there was another Roy Rogers who achieved mega-stardom on the “silver screen” during the 50s and 60s as a singing cowboy).

It certainly sharpened our Roy’s wit. The “real” Roy Rogers was a supremely professional journalist and one of the wittiest.

On one occasion Roy was in Eastbourne covering the engineering union conference for The Herald. Along with colleagues from other newspapers, he had just consumed a distinctly mediocre dinner presided over by an intrusive M’aitre D who insisted that after the meal the reporters round the table recite their names and the papers for which they wrote. It came to Roy’s turn and he said: “Roy Rogers, Glasgow Herald.” The annoyingly extrovert restaurant manager, asked: “Where’s your horse?” Roy replied: “I think I’ve just eaten it.”

There were the inevitable stories about Roy’s encounters with officialdom. This could be especially problematical during his teenage years when he was out with his mates Jesse and Frank James. Once Roy and the two brothers were pulled over by the police and asked their names. Inevitably they were treated with scepticism and not a little irritation.

Roy was born in September 1944 at Shardeloes, a large eighteenth century country house near Amersham in Buckinghamshire requisitioned for pregnant women evacuated from London. His father was with the forces in Burma.

A bright working class lad and the middle of three boys, he passed the 11-plus and went to Kingsbury County Grammar School in North London, where he was something of a “Jack the Lad”. The school once sent Roy home for daring to wear drainpipe trousers, the trademark of the Teddy Boy.

Roy was a keen sportsman and played football for Harrow schools and rugby for his old boys’ team Old Kingsburians where he made many loyal friends and met his wife Susan.

He left school after A-levels and got a job as an ice cream seller at London zoo. His pitch was near the cage containing “Guy the Gorilla”, the zoo’s most famous resident at the time, who died in 1978 during an operation on infected teeth. A contribution to Guy’s demise may have been made by Roy, who surreptitiously fed him ice cream.

Roy started his newspaper career as a clerk in the prices room at the Financial Times in London, having been introduced by an uncle who was an official of the then print union NATSOPA. In those days national newspapers were “pre-entry” closed shops which meant the unions controlled the supply of non-journalistic labour.

Roy’s abilities were soon recognised and at a newspaper dominated by privately-educated Oxbridge graduates, he eventually became labour correspondent, subsequently shipping correspondent.

He left the FT in 1976 becoming editor of Shipbuilding News; from there he went to Lloyd’s List and thence to The Herald.

He reported on all the TUC and Labour party conferences during his era and he delivered some of the wittiest speeches ever heard at those gatherings on behalf of the labour and industrial correspondents' group - a tradition no longer honoured. He covered with distinction all the great industrial disputes of the 70s onwards, involving car workers, dockers, engineering workers, printers and perhaps the most seismic of all, the miners’ strike of 1984-85.

He was on close terms with, and much respected by, all the great Scots union leaders of his era, including Jimmy Airlie, Jimmy Reid, Mick McGahey and Jimmy Knapp.

Although his personal politics are described by a colleague as “solid trade union left”, his views did not infect his coverage. The Herald would always receive an objective story, written by someone with a quiet professional scepticism.

He would also ensure readers were aware of the implications for Scotland of any event he was covering. He would “put a kilt” on a story whenever necessary.

Roy was an industrial correspondent during a period when the specialism was as important as that of politics. During some periods – the miners’ strike was a case in point – it was substantially more important.

Roy, like all his colleagues covering similar stories, was a member of the anarchic and distinctly blokeish industrial correspondents group.

“The group”, as it was known, was populated with larger than life characters whose legendary journalistic productivity was only exceeded by their capacity for drink. Roy kept pace in both regards, but was not among the most boisterous of group members. He was a gentle, private person but invariably clubbable - and by far and away the most gifted purveyor of one-liners. He would speak of his children and his wife, but rarely of himself.

When he left The Herald in 2002, it was not out of choice. Although he applied for “voluntary” redundancy, it was made abundantly clear that along with his senior colleagues he had become “too expensive”. It was a story repeated throughout the industry.

He had a happy retirement, consuming 99 ice creams by the sea in Norfolk, listening to blues music and keeping a keen interest in Old Kingsburians.

Unfortunately his life was increasingly blighted by Parkinson’s Disease and eventually dementia. He passed away peacefully at home in Holt, Norfolk, on the morning of March 15, leaving his wife Susan whom he married in 1972, children Jane and Jack, born respectively in 1981 and 1983 and four grandchildren: Max, three; twins Jennie and Carrie two; and Maddie one.

BARRIE CLEMENT