Many people have lost a good friend, an exuberant, bubbling presence, and we in the press an exemplar in journalism in his day of reporting hard news. Paddy Scott - "Scott of Belfast", as he would announce himself to the news desk or copy-taker - was to many the quintessential reporter: the man who followed the story through.
His coverage of the Queen Victoria disaster, when the Larne-Stranraer ferry of that name sank miles off course as control was lost in a memorable storm; the long story of the Curran murder and many other items of main news were expertly and exhaustively followed up. He knew all the politicians; he was friendly with them without losing his own stature as a recorder of the times. He would ring Lord Craigavon at home - once to be told that his Lordship was in the bath, but would ring back.
Paddy Scott, after St Malachy's and Queens, tried London, but was advised by Robert Lynd that things were bad in Fleet Street and that he would be better at home. He worked with the Irish News, whether on the staff or freelance, then the Irish Press for many years of devoted service. He was always well-dressed and favoured hand-made shoes.
He had a mot for every occasion. Once, a colleague from Dublin arrived at the railway station, then in Great Victoria Street, to be met by Paddy and another colleague. The three went to the bar - it was about 11 o'clock in the morning - for a coffee. Paddy offered a packet of cigarettes. "Thanks, Paddy, I'm off them." So Paddy suggested a wee brandy. "No thanks, I'm off liquor." Paddy turned to the man beside him: "God, Andy, he's saved." And the inflection that can be put into that word!
After the Irish Press he was to join the Irish News Agency, an ideal colleague for an operation that goes on 24 hours a day. One of the editors remembers him calling the office from some part of the Antrim Glens: "I've got a wee story here" (a favourite opener of his), and then he would dictate, in well-formed sentences, a long story from a few notes scribbled on the back of an envelope or even a notebook. He worked with this group of publications for a time, after the agency, finally joining Ulster Television early on.
Paddy had one of the biggest hearts of anybody in the business. His wife Barbara predeceased him. He was born in Carrickfergus, lived most of his life in Belfast, a city he loved, among people he loved. There was no doubt about his personal nationalist views, but he loved and cherished the people of Ulster as a whole. he was quite simply a good man, a devout man, and certainly we will not see his like again. You did not just like Paddy Scott, you loved him. He died less than a fortnight after his 93rd birthday.