One of the things about being a fundraiser is that you bump into the most exceptional people. I mentioned this in an earlier blog, when I referred to the two blokes from Bolivia to whom I spoke recently. More of them later.
When I write ‘bump into’, I don’t necessarily mean meet. I mean your paths cross, you intertwine, and frequently, it is incredibly rewarding.
Sometimes you encounter your heroes. I wrote a press ad once as John Simpson, the legendary BBC journalist, and a hero of mine. When we sent it off for proofing, he sent it back with a handwritten note, “Couldn’t have put this better myself.” That was praise indeed.
Or the time I found myself defending Bianca Jagger from an over-enthusiastic and somewhat intrusive fan at a charity reception. Long story, for another time.
Sometimes you learn just by observing. For years I ghost-wrote charity appeals as Terry Waite, the former Archbishop of Canterbury’s envoy who became a hostage in Beirut. I found Terry to be clever, engaging, and astute. He knew his own value: he knew that people wanted a bit of Terry the hostage, and that’s what he gave them. But not for his own sake, because once people had engaged, he could tell them about the causes he supported, like the homeless charity Emmaus UK where I met him. He self-promotion was actually selfless. Compare that to so many.
At the moment, though, my mind keeps coming back to Salatiel and Luis, the two recovering addicts, not famous, not successful in most people’s terms, who I spoke to on a Zoom call with them in Bolivia. I keep thinking about how Andy Partington, the CEO of Novō Communities, felt compelled, or inspired, or led, pick your term, to move himself and his family half way across the world for the sake of guys like this. And how, sitting in Yorkshire, with a background as far from theirs as mine could possibly be, I could connect with Luis and Salatiel through the miracle of technology, and the privilege of trying to help people just like them.
