|
|
The Christchurch Civic
Creche Case |
|
|
|
|
by David Cohen Veteran newsman Frank Haden, who
died in Upper Hutt on Monday, used to joke that retirement was for idiots
with a death-wish, arguing that the relative inactivity of digging broadleaf
weeds out of the lawn sent a message to one's body that it was time to shut
down. It was the kind of line - rugged,
emphatic, nicely detailed - that defined the style of Mr Haden, a working
journalist of the old school for the past half-century who achieved national
prominence over the past 20 years as an irascible weekly columnist with the
Sunday Star Times and its forerunner. The same sentiment may well have
spurred him to continue writing long after being diagnosed with prostate
cancer (in 1998) until late last year. Probably the same sentiment
explained Mr Haden's notable diffidence when it came to revealing his age. At
the moment of his death he was 77 - and listening to Bach. Former Dominion editor Karl du
Fresne this week described his longtime friend as a "born
controversialist," who had a firm opinion on just about everything,
whether it was Australian wine, Tana Umaga or Peter Ellis. "He was an impossible bugger
to work with, because his strong personal views often interfered with his
editorial judgment, but he was very hard not to like," added Mr du
Fresne. "He had an engaging personality that was oddly diffident when
you compared it with his strident writing style." Mr Haden's most strident public
moment came in the wake of the 1993 Christchurch Civic Creche case, in which
he consistently, and painstakingly, championed the cause of its central
character. Describing Peter Ellis as "infamously imprisoned and
manifestly innocent," he excoriated the "Druids of the sex abuse
industry," who had brought about Mr Ellis's controversial conviction. Some of the powerful arguments
first made on Mr Ellis' behalf by Mr Haden would later be taken up by former
National Party leader Don Brash, and NBR publisher Barry Colman. But the self-proclaimed Scourge of
the Right-Ons, whether in his role as fast-shooting commentator or in the
newsroom setting during his quixotic years as assistant editor of the
Dominion and editor of the old Sunday Times and Auckland Star, could also
play a gentle card. Former colleague Helen Bain
recalls showing up at Mr Haden's house in 2005 to interview him about his
illness, which at the time he denied having, and marvelling at "the most
enormous ginger cat I have ever seen" sitting pampered next to its proud
master. "It had its dinner bowl on a
little table so it didn't have to make the effort to bend its head down to
eat, and another little stool placed in front of the best armchair in the
lounge, so it didn't have to make the effort of jumping up on to the chair to
sleep Frank pretended to be this hard man [but] his whole public image was
quite unlike how he really was." Mr Haden grew up in Christchurch,
the working-class son of an English motorcycle salesman. He became a law clerk in
Christchurch as a teenager in order to support his recently widowed mother
and his six siblings. A Catholic by upbringing, he quit law, and the church,
by age 19 to work at the Press. He remained in journalism for the rest of his
life. An enduring feature of his work,
and industry reputation, was as a wordsmith, a passion he parlayed into
another successful stint as a long-running language columnist. Here too he offered an object
lesson in how to cut to the heart of the matter. He had a well-honed take on
what readers were thinking about, a sharp ear for what was significant about
those issues, and an eye for the telling detail. In an interview at his Wellington
office in 1995, I asked him about his life's work. "My critics know damn well
that I am right," the Scourge of the Right-Ons said. "They become very annoyed
because in their heart of hearts they know I'm right." And was he angry? "No, I
don't get angry," he twinkled. "I project an image of being
angry. I take a god-like position of pointing out to all the creatures down
below where they are going wrong. I mean, God doesn't get angry: He tells
people things more in sorrow than anger." Frank Haden is survived by his
wife, Merle, and daughters Genevieve, Juliet, Rosemary and Sylvia. |
