Up Front

with the Editor

As a young newspaper reporter in Sydney just after the war, my job for a year or two was to interview overseas air passengers as they arrived at Sydney airport. That was the time when the airlines were flying giant DC6’s on the trunk routes and Pan Am’s new deck and-a-half Stratocruisers were something to wonder at.

Those were interesting, satisfying, balmy days of interviewing for those of us who enjoyed talking to people.

Passengers were not so numerous that they had to be processed by computer, and as they waited for their baggage to be cleared in the Customs hall (to which we had ac cess) we reporters would speak to every arriving passenger over the age of two.

We got a lot of dead air, but we also got a lot of stories—and the afternoon editions were always well larded at that time with human in terest, collected from real people who told it like it was. And al though we didn’t write everything, we reporters became extraordinarily well-informed on conditions in other countries, on politics, commerce, heology, international wheat sales— name it. And our background cnowledge put depth into all our nterviews.

It was during those days at Syd ley airport that I first found out vhat I have since proved a hundred imes—that as a general rule the rigger the stature the more ap proachable the man, once you are ible to talk directly to him. It was

be nobodys-trying-to-be-somebodys

vho protected themselves with spokesmen and who were rudely un lelpful should you happen to break he barriers.

That type of nobody is usually insure of himself, and his attitude s a reflection of it. It is my experi ence that the common man no natter how exalted his position s a friendly fellow, happy to ex change conversation if he can see r ou are interested.

Here on PIM we are a fortunate pt because the Pacific Islands are billed with the common man, of Pvery rank, happy to exchange con

versation with us. We get a warm welcome from Islands people be cause the Islands are a club with a common interest.

Sydney newsmen of my acquaint ance who sometimes find themselves visiting PlM’s Pacific, express envy at our easy path in Press relations.

They complain that back in Sydney they are being forced to deal more and more with the spokesman, less and less with the people who create the action.

I better understood their com plaints following a visit I made to Sydney’s new international airport in January in an effort to see Tupua Tamasese Lealofi, Prime Minister of Western Samoa, en route to the Singapore conference.

The Press have long since been banned from the Customs area, where they would only gum up the conveyor belt system that processes the passengers who hourly pour from the big jets. But worse, the Press interviewing room has been superseded by the sumptuously-ap pointed VIP rooms operated by the major airlines and not open to the Press.

The most interesting people will be hidden away between planes without having made contact with anybody but Customs. Their pres ence may be unacknowedged by the airline, who may perhaps act as the VlP’s spokesman. This, of course, is sensible and legitimate business for the airlines, who want to serve their customers.

Such a room Tamasese entered on his flight to Sydney, and a mes sage I got to him, after great diffi culty, brought the verbal reply: “I’ll see nobody until I return.”

It took phone calls to Canberra before I could establish his return arrival time, but I put on my best

suit and nicest tie and drove again to Sydney airport in the early morning to meet with Prime Minister Tama sese. Again I was told he was to be taken “the back way” to the VIP room for the two hours his party had between planes. No, they said, the VIP room was sacrosanct. I could not see him there unless he wanted to see me, and I could not see him myself to ask him.

But since I had assured Qantas that the Samoan Prime Minister would surely allow me to introduce myself, if only to take a minute of his time, they kindly agreed to ap proach the Prime Minister while I waited discreetly in the ante-room.

Then they returned with the answer, “The Prime Minister won’t see you”.

“Oh!” I said. “Did you remind him he said he would talk on his return and that I only wanted to say hullo?”

“Yes, yes we did our best. We can do no more!”

Feeling like a gatecrasher caught in the act, I left the ante-room of the VIP lounge, unhappily con scious of the fact that face-to-face contact may possibly have had a different ending. My Sydney col leagues were right. Life can be tough in this city.

I hope that back in the Islands the VIP’s don’t introduce the methods they see demonstrated in places like Singapore and Sydney and use the “system” to protect themselves from personal contact, for this would be the end of the South Pacific that I know and admire. It would be the end of the human history and the background information that every reporter must have if he is to report events accurately and sympathet ically. Please, let’s not have a com munication gap in the South Pacific.

Stuart Inder