I turned up as a reporter. On my fourth day he calmly told me to go to makeup, get some slap on, and present the afternoon news. I protested and said I’ve never done it before. He said it’s simple, when the PA says off air in 10….you talk until she gets to zero the you say goodbye and shut up! As I walked away still protesting he said, “If you swim you can stay, if you sink , you’re out!”. It was the most terrifying hour of my life. I got through the bulletin, peeled my fingers out of the on-set desk, as I had obviously been gripping it so hard, my fingers had made indentations, then walked back up the stairs to the newsroom, expecting Russell to be there red faced and displeased. He didn’t even look up. The following week I was put on the presenter rota!

Several months later I moved to TVS and my replacement was given a month of dry runs. I protested to Russell. “What’s all this dry run nonsense?” I cried. “I Got the “sink or swim” speech and she gets a month of dry runs!”.

He just looked at me calmly and said….”Well you didn’t need them did you!”. Then he grinned his impish and evil grin and said “I knew you could do it!”

Typical! He’ll be missed.

I first met Russell just after Christmas in Cardiff in 2006 when every one else at TF was on long leave. He was introduced to me via email of couse by Janet Boston, the director of TF. Although it was the first time we met, but he was such a warm and jovial person that made me feel at home during the meeting we had to discuss inter alia joint training programmes.

Then he took me for lunch of fish and chip at the nearby restaurant. And he agreed to come to KL in May the next year to conduct a training programme for Malaysian journalists.

In Kuching we had fun visited the Sarawak Cultural Village and we also went cruising the Sarawak river.

When he went back, we kept in touch through his mobile and a few weeks later we at MPI failed to reach him. It was through Anna Robertson, that we learned that Russell had suffered a stroke. We at MPI were shocked and saddened by the news. My son, Zaki, who was studying at the University of the West of England visited him at the hospital where he was bed-riddened.

Now both MPI and myself have lost Russell for ever. The good times that we had would be cherised forever.

My condolences to his family and may his soul rest in peace.

Chamil Wariya
Malaysian Press Institue
Kuala Lumpur.

It was very natural for him to find his place at the Thomson Foundation where his input to the organisation was considerable. He worked tirelessly in the development of journalism training around the world.

He was a real inspirational figure to all who met and worked with him. A fantastic hack who knew his craft inside out. Someone who set high standards and of course expected everyone to have the same.

Journalism in Wales and the World will be the loser with his passing. For he was someone who still had so much more to give.

We will always remember you Russell. Cheers.

Russ was a very good friend and colleague for nearly 30 years. I first knew him when he was on the newsdesk at the Western Mail and I was a stringer. Then, we worked together at the BBC and, later, he was instrumental in my joining his team at HTV Wales as North Wales news editor. I was proud and privileged to be part of that team and even though we largely worked 150 miles apart — he in Cardiff, myself in Mold — we enjoyed a close working relationship. Indeed, my years with Russell were among the most enjoyable and satisfying of nearly 50 years in journalism.

Russ was just a year older than me and our career paths had crossed as teenagers, when I worked as a 15-year-old copy boy at the Daily Herald’s offices in London while he was working at the newspaper’s Cardiff office. It was to be another 20 years before we met and began working together.

I found him to be a true inspiration — a totally dedicated professional who knew how to get the best out of his team while creating a working atmosphere in which we had a lot of fun, even when — to quote one of his favourite phrases — we were “on the ledge.”

Russ could be a hard taskmaster, but outside the office, over a pint or two, he was most entertaining company. We had some hilarious times together, particularly at ITV news editors’ conferences where the drinking went on all night.
We still kept in touch after he left HTV and I really appreciated the opportunity he gave me to spend two memorable weeks running training sessions for local radio station managers and journalists in Ukraine.

I know many journalists in high places who owe their careers to Russell’s fatherly guidance and the high standards he set. For those who knew how hard he worked and what he gave to us all, it was so distressing to see him struck down by a stroke at such a relatively young age..and with so much more to give. But he still talked with optimism and his great wit and wicked humour never waned.

Russ, in his own self-deprecating way, used to refer to himself as a “little Gwenty.” But,as Ian says, he was a real giant in journalism and we loved him for the way he made us laugh and drove us all to achieve so much more than we ever thought we could. He was a great friend, an inspiring leader…a wonderful guy. We’ll miss him very much.

Russell and I first met in 1994. I liked everything about this small, rotund man but his height was the only thing “small” about Russell. As a professional he was a giant. At the time I was leading a team of ten TF television and radio journalists I had selected to teach the South African Broadcasting Corporation how to cover their first democratic election. Nelson Mandela was soon to take power.

Russell joined the Johannesburg team and immediately fell in love with the training / consultancy business. He did it extremely well backed by his huge knowledge of both TV and radio journalism. His students adored him and his fellow trainers were proud to have him in the team.

Russell soon became a mainstay. Botswana, Ukraine, India, Belarus, Serbia, Croatia were a tiny handful of the many countries he worked for us.

When working in Belarus he actually befriended the government agent who was put on his tail during a month of work in the regions. Realizing he was being followed he simply went and asked the guy if he’d like to join him for a drink….. or two. When the agent cold no longer stand up Russell wished him goodnight and went to bed. He was full of mischief.

Russell took on huge amounts of work both in the field – he loved that most of all – and back at headquarters where he devised many successful projects.

The sadness of his long illness touched us all. He will be deeply missed.

Ian Masters, former Controller Broadcasting, TF.

“Allo, mate! How’s it going?”

Russell’s invariable daily greeting, wherever we found ourselves – in the TF office, or anywhere on a training mission together.

I’m happy, and proud, that I was in part responsible for introducing him to TF such a long time ago, and for his friendship throughout the time we both worked there.

We all know how hard he worked, what enthusiasm he put into everything asked of him. Writing project proposals, negotiating internationally, delivering training and consultancy, and in his own time, enjoying life to the full.

What memories! Sliding around the pavements in a frozen Kiev in mid-winter and losing our keys at midnight; taking incredible car journeys across Belarus; spending the day at a secret military base, doing target practice; sitting (with John Boileau) in a Riga restaurant devoid of guests except for us, with a classical quartet on stage, in full evening dress and playing American classics; having a gun pulled on us – twice, once by a friend, and seeing Russell’s eyes, popping wide, as he said: “I reckon we’ve got some trouble here!” And so many more silly stories and anecdotes….

Or, sitting in the office, while he worked on a last-minute project proposal, cursing the computer for all it did wrongly, while pounding out on the keyboard. He never understood it was not a typewriter, with no need to thump the keys!

His delivery on the ‘class-room’ floor was always to be admired: the way he teased his audience, the way he got them involved in learning, his tricks to open them up to what they really wanted to express, his encouragement – and his discipline. Watching him at work was like watching a conjuror; there was always, you knew, a media rabbit about to pop out of the hat.

And, on a personal level, a great friend and confidant, full of jokes and sharp, often acerbic, wit. Someone you could turn to for advice, worth listening to – if he wasn’t on his mobile, that is! I never met anyone who used his phone so much.

Now, that phone is silent.

This pocket dynamo of zest for life, enthusiasm, fun and hard work, is gone. But, my host of memories will live on, as they will for so many – his family, his friends and colleagues, and all those people whom he touched, across the globe.