Ian McColl recalls his days working with journalist and editor Clive

Sandground, who died yesterday.

CLIVE Sandground, my friend and right-hand man at the Scottish Daily

Express in the sizzling sixties, was a great journalist and the

liveliest, most restless, larger-than-life character I've known. It is

hard to believe he is gone.

When Clive applied for a job as a sub-editor on the Express in the

late 1950s it fell to me as Night Editor to interview him.

In blazer and flannels and wearing a Hillhead High School FP tie, he

made an instant impression. ''Ah, I see you were at Hillhead,'' I

remarked. ''So was I.'' Clive gave me a quizzical look and with a touch

of hauteur said: ''But obviously not at the same time.''

Cheeky blighter I thought -- but he got the job. He soon made his

mark. Everything Clive did was over the top. The callow youth quickly

sprouted a W. G. Grace black beard -- Clive was a member of the MCC as

was his father before him -- and the blazer and flannels gave way to

heavy green tweed suiting complete with waistcoat adorned with gold

watch chain.

This conspicuous outfit was worn in the hottest of summers. His only

concession to warm weather was to shave off the black beard. He was

often warned that without it he had a two-tone face.

That was Clive the character. There was no nonsense about Clive the

journalist.

When a big story broke it was a joy to see Clive take over a whole

series of pages, issue clear instructions to a chosen team of

sub-editors, select pictures, write the headlines and put the Sandground

stamp on them.

As deputy editor, Clive gathered around him journalists like Jim

Middleton, later to become Scottish Express editor in Manchester, John

Ryan, now deputy editor, Evening Times, Iain Duff, Glasgow editor of the

Scotsman, and Bill Merrifield, who later became a senior executive in

Manchester. They were all involved with Clive in the great stories of

that golden decade -- the Glasgow fire disaster at Cheapside, the

Kennedy assassinations, the Argyll divorce case, the great

Bishops-in-the-Kirk controversy and the Ibrox Disaster of 1971.

Clive was at his most courageous when the Express in Glasgow was beset

with industrial disruption. He point-blank refused NUJ chapel

instructions to join the all-too-frequent mandatory meetings.

His talent and courage were rewarded in 1971 when he was appointed

editor when I was called to London to edit the Daily Express. Two years

later he left the Express to take over the editorship of the Sunday

Mail.

With his undoubted editorial flair, Clive made his new charge the most

talked-about Scottish Sunday newspaper while Express Newspapers

transferred their printing to Manchester and closed down Albion Street.

It was my privilege to know and to work with this most likable and

unforgettable man.

The callow youth quickly sprouted a W. G. Grace black beard . . . and

blazer and flannels gave way to heavy green tweed suiting complete with

waistcoat adorned with gold watch chain.