A true press suffragette

She was one of the first women to achieve membership in the Toronto Press Club in the fifties.  She was a pioneer as a female war correspondent.  At The Peterborough Examiner her mentor was Robertson Davies.  She wrote 'We Were There', a seven-volume chronicle of the second world war.  She was also quite simply the best editor ever to take a red pencil to my sometimes turgid work.

I didn't know anything of her background when I was hired by Maclean Hunter Publishing in 1969 as an aspiring, but green, 22-year-old, but I learned to greatly respect Jean Portugal.  So I was amazed when I picked up the obituary feature in The Globe and Mail a couple of weeks ago to see that she had only recently died at 95.  I assumed she had died years ago, because when I worked for her she looked about 95.  "Mrs. Portugal" to her juniors in the editorial room, she was a brilliant editor and taught me everything I know about economic writing.  Words I thought necessary were stricken without changing the meaning.  In fact, her tight editing raised our work to the sophisticated level.  To this day, every piece of writing I read anywhere in anything clearly could benefit from a ruthless battering by Mrs. Portugal's red pen.

Back then, we worked in hot type which meant we had to know how to cut if something didn't fit.  Thus, we were instructed to get the message out up front because cutting on the plant floor had to be done from the bottom up.  You literally stood beside the linotype operator (with official permission from the union, of course) on the plant floor and threw out lead type to make the article fit.  Today, I read the last paragraph to get the writer's point; back then you had to make it straight away. 

We were part of the editorial services department in the business publications division.  No one progressed to a "real" publication until Mrs. Portugal deemed them ready.  (The last three words are a perfect example of her work.  I probably would have written, "....until Mrs. Portugal deemed that they were ready."  See how she tightened it up perfectly by eliminating "that" and "were"?)

I toiled under the tyranny of her red pencil for about a year before being promoted to 'Home Goods Retailing' and then 'Office Equipment and Methods'.  While under Mrs. Portugal, I wrote book reviews for 'The Financial Post' and made up horoscopes for 'Miss Chatelaine'.  I say "made up" because while researching the booklet, I noticed everything seemed the same and could apply to any zodiac sign.  So with my busy social life taking precedence, I just made it up and handed it in.  It sold like hot cakes.

My life at M-H was basically 'Madmen'.  Everyone drank all the time, everyone smoked constantly and everyone had multiple affairs.  I worked alongside the likes of Roy MacGregor, but let me hasten to add Roy didn't join in any of our shenanigans and remains happily married to his high-school sweetheart; the rest of us, however, were wild.  Needless to say, Mrs. Portugal turned a blind eye and never let up on us -- thank G-d. 

While a war correspondent in Cambodia and Vietnam (again, no "she was a"...), she met and married her interpreter, Felix Portugal.  With her oriental background thanks to Felix, she occasionally took us to a restaurant in Toronto's Chinatown, where she instructed us on the delicacies she ordered and the health benefits of Chinese tea.  I still think of her when I drink it.

After Mrs. Portugal's tutoring, every job I landed was a direct result of my ability to write.  I went on to work for DuPont of Canada, because I could write, then became a speechwriter for a few of Trudeau senior's ministers, because I could write, and then got into a number of federal departments because I could write.  No matter where you work, if you can write you're valuable.  I ended up writing cabinet documents and policy papers and anything else that required a deft, subtle and accurate touch.  Letters for the minister were always given me (see, no "to" required) because they never needed a re-write.  Speech writing for ministers meant I travelled with them on luxurious government jets, in case tinkering were needed at the last minute. 

It was all so much fun and I owe it all to Mrs. Portugal.  Rest in Peace, dear lady. 

Here she in in the fifties with husband Felix in Vietnam.  She never changed that iconic forties hairstyle.  Amazingly, he survives her.