Jack Hartzman

I recall another side to Jack’s character, how his quick thinking averted a very tricky situation for Reuters, back in the ’70s. I was on the late shift in London Bureau, the UK reporting office, in a building close to the headquarters at 85 Fleet Street. Just before midnight, there was a commotion outside our door and suddenly about 30 shouting, placard-waving youths burst into the office. They were protesting about alleged anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union and had tried to get into the offices of Tass, the Soviet news agency, a few doors down. Tass was closed and they turned their attention to us. The ringleader demanded that Reuters issue their lengthy statement in full to the world or they would “smash the place up”.

I got on the phone to Jack, the duty Horseman, and explained the situation. This presented him with a bit of a dilemma. He, the son of Jewish immigrants, was personally quite sympathetic to the protesters but “no f***ing outsiders were going to dictate what we put out on the wire”. He suggested I file the statement to the World Desk, all of 200 yards away, and then show the hard copy to the protesters, by now very agitated. I did this and, sure enough, the crowd calmed down, punched their fists in the air and all trooped out. Moments later, police, alerted by the building’s caretaker, surged into the office, closely followed by Jack and then the Tass bureau chief. A bottle of Scotch was produced from somewhere and peace was restored. Reuters issued a few paras on the incident. ■