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Memoir

Given the measure of promise in Archbishop Booth’s formative years, what this memoir calls his ‘golden years’ seem sadly unproductive of lasting substance. The outward flourish of his last years in public office, and the great farewell at the Olympic Pool, do not conceal but rather emphasise the feeling the reader has that he did not nourish his diocese at the spiritual depth it needed to face the sixties.

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Don Whitington became a journalist seven years before I was born, and moved to Canberra for the first time shortly before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. He died last year, after a tragically bungled series of surgical operations, before he was able to complete his autobiography, Strive to be Fair.

The title is taken from a remark one of the many editors for whom he worked made: ‘There is no such thing as a good objective journalist. If you are not sensitive enough to feel for your subject, to have a point of view, to suffer joy or agony or sympathy about a story you are covering, you will never be a good journalist. Don’t strive to be objective. Strive to be fair.’

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