What a production

As the history of Taranaki Newspapers is written mostly by the professional writers on the editorial staff, it is understandable that those who toiled away in the less high-profile areas of newspaper production in Currie St sometimes receive only a passing mention.

One such group was the women answering the phones in the classified advertising department, overseen for some of my time there by the unflappable Daphne McNeil and known in the late 1970s-early 80s as Daphne’s Angels.

Fridays were particularly hectic, when it seemed as though half the population of Taranaki wanted to place an ad in Saturday’s paper. We had to be sitting at our desks by 8.30am sharp, with our headphones on and our typewriters (later computer terminals) ready to go. Daphne would say cheerfully, ‘‘Let battle commence!’’ as she switched the classifieds phone line through from the front office. All our lines would light up with calls and away we went, typing furiously and finishing off each ad while greeting the next caller.

Approximately two hours later, when we had lost all sense of time, there would be a tap on the shoulder and Daphne would whisper ‘‘Morning tea’’. We gladly took that short break from the demands of being simultaneously welcoming, helpful, and above all accurate.

The flow of calls eased off by lunchtime, ramping up to another deluge as the 4pm deadline approached. Mistakes sometimes crept in but they were surprisingly few, considering the nature of the job.

Anne Calcott New Plymouth