Friday 26th June
The static and hiss on the radio was making it almost impossible to listen to as in the gently fading light I drove into the depths of beautiful Yorkshire.
Hardly audible was the BBC news at ten o’clock. Before the noise of interference enveloped the presenters voice I heard something about Michael Jackson being taken to hospital.
An hour and a half later I arrived at my hotel, checked in and looked forward to just over four hours sleep before getting up for a live broadcast from the picture postcard town of Settle.
At some point in the small hours of the night I was awakened by the sound of a text message arriving at my phone.
I bore the news that our live broadcast had been cancelled because Michael Jackson had died and the programme was going to be devoted to that.
I switched off my alarm and tried to go back to sleep.
It took a while for me to return to the land of nod. I was thinking about the frenetic activity that would be going on in the newsroom in London.
The guys would be getting together the story of Jacko’s life and collecting a legion of tributes being made mourning the loss of this immense talent in such a fragile being.
In the morning I started the long lonely drive north. The radio news was full of reports from LA and all over the world. The music stations played lots of his music.
I did my own insignificant tribute with shots of the beautiful countryside on the journey home.