What I learned from death knocks, jewellery heists and a lot of standing about in the rain

With an invitation to find out where news is heading these days. Read all about it...

“GET yer Standard…”

As long as the newspaper men (they were always men) were shouting that in the high street, you could feel like newspapers were still thriving, an editor I worked with once remarked. Of course we were all too aware of the reality behind that comment. And now the newspaper men don’t shout that every night any more.

On Thursday, London was greeted with the final front page page of its daily Evening Standard. As a reader, I had absolutely loved its mix of grit and glamour - the brilliant writers, features ideas, crime reports. So, once I got into reporting, I was exhilarated to spend a few months shifting on its news desk, pinging about the city in my tin can car to cover protests, jewellery heists, and more.

It was the opposite of sit at your desk and churn it out. The starts could be brutally early - the first edition went to press at something like 11am - and you’d almost always be sent out. It seemed like it was usually raining.

evening.standard

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On one dark night, in every sense, I wa…