Jon Smith: A subbing genius

It was the funeral of Jon Smith yesterday. Jon died this month at the age of 77. When I turned up at The Northern Echo, as a wet-behind-the ears sub-editor in 1979, Jon was my boss. To say I learned a lot in a short time would be a massive understatement. He put together news pages with ease, would give sound guidance on what to do with copy, taught me how to ‘cast-off’, rewrote headlines when they weren’t up to scratch and showed me how to draw broadsheet pages.

Jon in the chief sub's chair 

If I dropped a clanger he would let me know in no uncertain terms - but always had my back if the editor or newsdesk came at me. He chain-smoked in the office, insisted we had a pint in the Red Lion at break and gave us belief that we belonged to his subbing gang. He had so many other strings to his bow too. He wrote and starred in the office pantos (performed upstairs at the Red Lion). I was once the dame in Little Red Writing Hood.

 

Jon, far right, in Little Red Writing Hood

He was the architect of Echo Quest, the treasure hunt that saw people queuing to buy the paper and then follow clues all over the North-East. Unlike most journalists, he was also a practical man. He would regularly turn up for the night subbing shift smeared in cement and brick dust from rebuilding his Teesdale home.

The young Jon interviewing Martin Luther King

Jon left to work for The Times in the 80s but returned to become a journalism lecturer at Darlington college. I guess the draw of his beloved Teesdale, and Barningham and the Milbank Arms in particular, were too strong. In later years he wrote books, carried out parish duties and was a fundraiser for Darlington Football Club. Smithy certainly shaped my formative years - and those of many of my colleagues. Goodbye Jon, it was an honour and a pleasure.