WRITING a column every week is demanding, you are compelled to keep thinking about what next to write and how to frame your opinions. So when I was offered the option of not submitting a column one week in every month, I readily agreed. Since then — with the exception of last month — I have welcomed that week off. But I stumbled into news on Monday that someone whom I admired greatly, a media icon in her own right, Corina Meeks, had passed. So…

Somehow the early reports of Corina Meeks’ passing had escaped me, and it was not before Monday morning when I first got the information. True, she has been ailing for some time, and her passing was not unexpected, but when someone like Corina Meeks leaves this world it means that another formidable segment had been ripped from the web of communication that connected our country, perhaps even our world, during the decades of the 1960s through the 1980s, especially the mid to late 1970s when she held the reins of government information together.

Much has been written and said about that period of governance, and especially the role of media generally. As one who witnessed and participated in the operations of the government information service between 1971 and 1982, I have no hesitation in saying that Corina Meeks was the best of the best. I recall her inspiration behind such programmes as the national consumer awareness push in the late 1970s when the economy seemed in a tailspin. The Agency for Public Information’s (API) campaign, under the theme “Tun Yu han an mek fashion” captured the attention of everyone and is still talked about today for its impact as well as its programme content. Besides being credited as strong on developing programme concepts, I recall how adept she was at producing policy documents, statements and speeches, and in identifying the right people for the right job, which for me are essential attributes for any good administrator. She has been described by other colleagues at the agency as the consummate professional, and there can be no doubt that she was all of that. More than anything else, though, she was a strong people person.

Mrs Meeks had the type of background that equipped her well for the post of executive director at the API, perhaps more than all her predecessors. She had the experience of working as head of the Publication Department in the 1960s and had worked under Edward Seaga’s Adminis-tration when he had portfolio responsibility for information. Several of the key projects and programmes she spearheaded during that period remained a talking points for many years.

Eventually, she became the very capable special assistant to Michael Manley shortly after he first became prime minister in 1972. It was an indication of the importance that Manley ascribed to the information service becoming a stronger entity that he decided to release her to take up the position; undoubtedly a loss to the Jamaica House information unit, but a decisive gain to the API. From my perspective

Mrs Meeks was the most capable, experienced and authentic administrator to have occupied the position up to her retirement, perhaps even after.

It was an interesting period at the information agency when Mrs Meeks first walked into the office. She would not have been unmindful of the challenge that awaited her. It was a turbulent period in several respects. I remember very clearly her first day. She arrived dressed pre-dominantly in black, but her mood was far from sombre. It was a time when the philosophy of “workers participation” held sway as a central component of democratic socialism. The API Staff Association was then at its most formidable stage, with an executive led by the late Elean Thomas, a self-described Marxist-Leninist, who in later years became better known as Lady Gifford following her marriage to Lord Anthony Gifford. In preparation for Mrs Meeks’ arrival, Ms Thomas organised a meeting of the staff association executive and hammered out a draft position paper with the underlining theme of workers’ rights. It was a busy first day for Mrs Meeks; she had to respond to all sorts of meeting requests, including with her senior staff, ministry and other public service representatives. It would not have been unreasonable had she asked for time to settle down. Besides, the staff association was not initially on her schedule of events for that day. But she readily agreed to the meeting.

The description that I ascribed to her handling of that consultation is one that could be used in describing many others throughout her stay. It was “class”. At the end of the meeting there was nothing for which she could be faulted in terms of our expectations on behalf of the workers. In fact, throughout the three years at the API she showed convincingly that she not only understood the information field and the players involved, but her administration was marked by fairness and sensitivity. She was perhaps the best example of progressive, always sensitive to the needs of her staff, and unerringly quick to respond to any signs of injustice. Besides that, she was a deeply compassionate person. I recall at one time — when I was in a semi-depressed state after receiving a false alarm arising following a cancer screen — how helpful she was in pulling me out of that mood and getting me to refocus.

When Mrs Meeks left the API, after the 1980 elections, it was a new chapter in government information. The agency shortly after reverted to its previous name (JIS) and she had moved on in partnership with two other former stalwarts in the information arena, Easton Lee, who had served as a director of radio and television under her administration, and Hartley Neita, also a former JIS executive director. Together they established a new PR consultancy that kept their professional flame alight for several more years before bringing down the curtains sometime in the 1990s.

The last time I recall seeing her was in 2011 when, although not in the best of health, she appeared her old self to me; charming, witty and cogent. It is the way I will remember her while being assured by her wonderful daughter, Dr Julie Meeks-Gardner, a professional in her own right, that, in the end, her mother’s transition was peaceful. Those of us who knew her would have prayed for nothing less.