SO our journalistic colleague, Wilmot “Motty” Perkins has passed and with him a wealth of journalistic knowledge, lost to an upcoming generation of journalists, that no School of Journalism in Jamaica, can ever equal, much less surpass. And, sadly, Jamaica and Jamaicans — (not to mention the wider world) — can ever again access.

The “Motty” that I knew goes back to 1958 when we, the rising journalists of that era, were in our 20s. The editorial department of the then “Old Lady of Harbour Street (later North Street)”, was replete with the names of people, among others, like Theodore Sealy, editor, fondly called “The Bull”; Frank Hill (trade union); Ulric Simmonds (political reporter); Clifton Neita (country news editor); Percival Trottman (night news editor); L K Sutherland (news editor); Strebor Roberts (sports editor); Barbara Goodison, later Gloudon —“Stella Says” in the Star and editor of Children’s Own; Percy Miller (farm desk) and Lettuce Small (fashion reporter).

All the above, with the exception of my former colleague and friend, Barbara or “Ms Babs” as I like to call her, have gone on before. Thankfully, she is still with us. And maybe, Lettuce about whom I have not heard or seen since the early 60s.

That very year — 1958 — The Gleaner unleashed four of the fastest shorthand writers this country has ever produced into the Parliament of Jamaica and I say this without contradiction. The team consisted of: Sybil Thompson, head of Hansard (now deceased); retired shorthand writer (from the Supreme Court) Louis Gooden (deceased); Sybil Craig, later Hibbert and Barrington Barr.

“Motty” was the shipping reporter, as was his colleague, Howard Brandt. Between them, they would spend hours on the wharves. That page at the back of the newspaper in those years, devoted to the movement of ships and shipping was their playground and workspace, with “Motty” strolling in after 4:00 pm each day to record the happenings.

The editorial department of a newspaper — a daily, that is — the world over, really comes alive after 4:00 pm. The Gleaner was no different. I knew “Motty” Perkins as a journalistic colleague, and one for whom I had the greatest respect; chiefly because he was fearless, gave credit where it was due and did not hesitate to criticise when criticism was necessary, irregardless! That is my type of journalist!

For me, it is the duty of all journalists who value self esteem; and who are cognisant of the principles enshrined in the practice of journalism, to carry out that sacred duty with diligence, honesty, fearlessness, courage and something called RESPECT which, in my view, is unfortunately, lacking today.

All the above attributes I give to my former colleague Mr. Wilmot “Mutty” Perkins today and more.

But I must add that it was after Perkins left The Gleaner, while we were at Harbour Street, and after we had moved to North Street that he really came into his own as a columnist and what a treat that was!

Well what can I tell you about “Motty” thereafter? His story after that is legend. I am sure others will continue to fill in the dots.

WALK GOOD MY BROTHER AND FORMER COLLEAGUE!