The first story I ever wrote as a journalist was for the late, great journalist Raoul Pantin. In 1984, I had been hired by Owen Baptiste to work on special publications for Inprint. I worked in an upstairs office in the old Cocoa House that was the Express building on Independence Square. Every day, I walked into the building, passed the newsroom, walked up the stairs and sat at a desk outside of Mr Baptiste's office.
One day, when Mr Baptiste was out of the country, I walked into the newsroom just to feel the vibe. Raoul called me over to his desk. I knew he was the Sunday Editor."What exactly do you do here?" he asked. When I told him, Raoul said: "You should write some stories for the paper."I wanted to write, but I had no idea how to be a journalist.Then, on October 31, 1984, Indian Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, was assassinated by her Sikh bodyguard.
Mr Baptiste was still out of the country so I wandered downstairs and timidly told Raoul I had lived in India.Raoul threw his hands in the air and said in that deep, dramatic voice he had, "Perfect! You will write a story called 'Who are These Sikhs?'"This was my introduction to deadlines and the old-fashioned way of gathering information by checking Reuters' teletype stories.
Soon, I was working on Raoul's Sunday desk. The next story that I vividly recall was on calypsonian Plain Clothes who had a hit double entendre, Trinidad and Tobago's Prime Minister George Chambers. It was called "Chambers Done See." It went: "Chambers done see. Chambers done see. Chambers done see what going on the country..."
Plain Clothes gave me the whole scoop on his song, laughing about the double entendre of done see and duncy."Come back tomorrow," Plain Clothes said, "and I'll give you the whole story."A bit puzzled (I thought I had the whole story) I agreed to meet Plain Clothes the next day.I went back to the Express and reported what I had learned so far to Raoul. He laughed and made some jokes. Raoul had a wonderful sense of humour.
The next day, when I went to see Plain Clothes, he had a convenient case of amnesia and said the song simply captured how prophetic Chambers was. Crushed and worried how to face Raoul, I returned to the office sure that I no longer had a story.Much to my surprise, Raoul became even more animated than his usual animated self when I relayed what had happened.
"Here's what to do," Raoul said. "Write the story of what he said yesterday, and in the end, you'll put what he said today."A master at crafting stories, Raoul–always a stickler for accuracy, details and exposing the other side of the story–realised that Plain Clothes reneging on his previous day's story would convey a sense of fear or perhaps panic for possible repercussions. This made the story better, Raoul said. I learned so much from Raoul as a journalist and a creative writer.
Raoul was a masterful columnist–a wordsmith, profound and witty who deserves credit for developing entertainment journalism. When Raoul had me write background pieces on calypsonians, I could not find any such pieces that were written and stored in the Express archives. That idea, I believe, was Raoul's idea.
Raoul always made me feel like I was doing important work. I never had the feeling that entertainment stories were merely filler for a newspaper. His Sunday paper had a noteworthy balance between hard news and entertainment.This I know for sure: Raoul helped to shape the journalist in me that Owen Baptiste created and nurtured.
As time passed, I did not have much contact with Raoul. Like everyone else who knew Raoul, I lamented the dramatic changes in the carefree, but careful journalist I once knew that occurred after the 1990 coup attempt. Raoul became distant and guarded, but he managed to pen an important piece of journalism and history in Days of Wrath.
Once, many years ago, I called Raoul and asked where or how I could see his movie Bim, which had become an underground cult-like classic for those who had pirated copies of the movie.Much to my dismay Raoul said: "I don't know. If you find out how to see it, let me know."I was happy to see that as local film began to develop more seriously in T&T, Raoul's pioneering film, Bim, made its way back into the mainstream with the accolades that it deserves.
Sadly, Raoul passed away two weeks ago at the age of 71. Those of us who were lucky enough to know Raoul and work for Raoul can count ourselves lucky enough to receive the gift of Raoul's extraordinary experience and vision. We had the opportunity to learn from an immensely talented journalist and creative writer who infused us with a sense of humour and a sense of purpose.