Open Writing

Three months into my time as a trainee on a Yorkshire mill town weekly newspaper the big boss called me into his office.

"How do you like being a reporter then?'' he asked.

"Oh I like it Jim,'' said I. We were a paper of modest size, everybody on first-name terms. "It's even better than I thought it would be.''

"Good,'' said the boss. "Donald says you're doing OK.''

Donald was the chief reporter.

The next question was casual, routine. "So how's the shorthand going?''

An embarrassed pause. "Er...it's going slowly. I'm finding Pitman hard to pick up.''

And that was one of the deepest understatements of my life. At least once during every quarter hour I cursed Sir Isaac Pitman and rued that day in 1837 when he launched his system of speedy writing on the world.

Thick strokes and thin strokes, strokes on the line, above the line, through the line... The mastery of Pitman's shorthand seemed far beyond the capacity of a young chap who even had difficulty in reading his own writing.

"Ah,'' said my boss. "Plenty of time yet. You will pick it up. Though if you can't write shorthand six months from now I'm afraid we'll have to let you go.''

There could have been no greater inducement to master a new skill. From the age of 12 I'd wanted to be a journalist. Now, as a 20-year-old, I was being given my big chance.

That night I didn't got to the pub for two or three pints with the lads. I stayed in, beavering away at Pitman's, finally going to bed near midnight in deepest despair.

I stood more chance of understanding ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics than of getting to grips with this thick-stroke thin-stroke stuff.

The very next day I enrolled in an evening class at Bradford Technical College to study Gregg's shorthand.

I had to sacrifice many leisure hours learning the curvy speedily-written outlines devised by John Robert Gregg and first published in 1888. However, the system seemed far more logical to me - and long before my probationary period was up I was taking shorthand notes of court proceedings and council meetings.

And Gregg was my useful servant from then on.

"Do you really need shorthand these days?'' someone asked me recently. "You can carry a tape recorder around in your jacket pocket.''

Tape recorders may be OK for magazine writers - journalists with a long deadline. Despite huge technological advances though, a reporter working for a daily newspaper still needs a good shorthand note.

Reporters are not allowed to use tape recorders in law courts. Even if I had been allowed to use one when I reported on a major case in a Nairobi court it would have been of little use.

I covered the trial of Nahashon Isaac Njenga Njoroge, who was eventually convicted of murdering Tom Mboya, at that time the second most powerful politician in Kenya.

The trial lasted many days. And the Daily Nation, the paper for which I then worked, reported every word that was said in court.

Page after tabloid page was filled with the questions and answers of the courtroom proceedings. Thanks to good old John Robert Gregg I was able to write on every last one of them!

In an ever-changing world there is still a need for the speed-writing of Mr Gregg - and, yes, drat him! for the speed-writing of Mr Pitman.