RICHARD McCOMB, former assistant editor and head of news at the Birmingham Post, wrote this heartfelt tribute to the late Patrick O’Flynn, former political editor of the Daily Express on LinkedIn 

Like a lot of people, I was shocked to read of the death of journalist and former UKIP MEP Patrick O’Flynn at the age of 59.

Not because I knew Patrick as a politician, or was close to him as a friend. I hadn’t spoken to him in decades. But the generosity of people lingers down the years. And that’s what I’m thinking of now: Patrick’s generosity.

He was a general reporter when I joined the news team at The Birmingham Post in 1992. I moved to the daily paper from the Chatham News, now defunct, and found myself in the UK’s second biggest city, working for its highly respected daily broadsheet. The Post was what they used to call a newspaper of record, run by outstanding reporters, writers, editors and photographers. And me? I felt out of my depth. A bit lost. Mildly terrified.

Patrick was one of the reporters who welcomed me, made me feel part of the team and encouraged me with humour and kind words. He performed the journalist’s ultimate act of sacrifice – he shared, only occasionally though, his contacts.

Patrick moved to London to become The Post’s lobby correspondent at Westminster and I swapped seats inside The Post & Mail’s cavernous, noisy office to join the news desk. We still spoke frequently, every couple of hours each day. When a big story broke, and they often did, there’d be feverish calls every few minutes. When things got hectic, Patrick remained calm and hit every deadline. He didn’t put a foot wrong.

You can read plenty about Patrick’s successful career post-Post. Here on the BBC, for example: https://lnkd.in/eySG5K2S

Now I could admire Patrick for many things – his precise copy, his instinct for a good story, his intelligence. If we could have cloned him, life would have been a doddle on the news desk.

And there was his eagerness to rise to the challenge when, inevitably, I’d call him at 4.55pm, five minutes before the main news conference, and say: “We’re in the shit, mate. We haven’t got a splash. F*** all. What have you got? Please, god, tell me you’ve got something.”

And he always did.

Patrick was as cool as a cucumber – a crooked one, not one of those straight, EU-approved ones he’d rail against.

But for all his outstanding gifts as a journalist – both a story getter and a skilled writer – it’s not this I remember most about Patrick. It’s his generosity –and his kindness. Both attributes have always been in short supply. But it seems to me that we need them now more than ever. If that’s the story you leave behind, it’s not a bad one.”

23 May, 2025