Not as long as anyone immersed in Lansing politics and government is still alive.
McDiarmid, retired for nearly two decades, died at age 84 on Saturday in a metro Detroit hospital of complications from Alzheimer’s disease.
As his former Detroit Free Press colleague Dawson Bell wrote in an encomium this past week-end, “McDiarmid was an icon of a now-vanishing era of media and politics in which penetrating examination and pointed analysis were almost never personal.”
McDiarmid was the last and most noteworthy of a long line of political columnists based in the state capitol that included the late George Weeks, a fixture at The Detroit News who died late last year.More than any of these journalists, McDiarmid combined the ability to write articles and columns that actually influenced public policy with distinctive personal qualities that made him a legend.
Anecdotes from Bill Rustem, a former top aide to both Gov. William G. Milliken and Gov. Rick Snyder, and Wilma Harrison aka “Billie Lillie, ” also a Milliken aide, prove the point:
Billie Harrison provides an example of McDiarmid’s mischievous side:
“The back door to my office (in the governor’s office in the state capitol building) opened onto the Senate lobby. It was unmarked, kept locked, and used only rarely, mostly when the boss needed a back way out of the office.
“One day, I suddenly had a spate of people turning the knob and trying to get in. I would open the door a crack, peek out, and say “Yes?” Then there would be a rather surprised look on some man’s face–usually accompanied by “Oh!” or “Excuse me!”–and a hasty retreat.
“It happened several times. I couldn’t figure it out. Finally, I opened the door all the way, and there, affixed to it, was a GENTLEMEN sign. McDiarmid was the culprit. RIP, Hugh. Thanks for good reporting and good fun.”
Longtime Milliken secretary Nancy Dockter adds this: “He was just the best. I think of him with his nose pressed against the glass door (of the governor’s office back when it really was located in the state capitol building) in his raspberry red sweater with a couple of holes in it, with his hands stretched out. He had a wonderful sense of humor … He really was one of a kind.”
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I always enjoyed the great wit and probing writing of Hugh. For a while my office was nearby the Lansing Bureau of the Free Press and he was always available to share insights and seek new information about what my perspective of events of the day were. Hugh was always seeking news tips and looking for that thread that he could sew into the fabric of one of his many stories and columns. He was a class act and I have missed his coverage since he retired. Farewell to one of the best! RIP, Hugh.
I had occasion to be splashed with barrels of Hugh’s ink as we disagreed about implementation of the bottle bill. Nonetheless, it was never personal. R. I.P. Hugh, you represent a time when investigative reporting was an appreciated journalistic form.✝️
Hugh was a true pro. He understood the difficult, grinding business of putting out a newspaper every day and he never let his ego get in the way of that business. He was an excellent newspaperman and that is all the tribute he would want. -30-
I always enjoyed his articles.
Ill never forget an instance that illustrates Hugh’s humor. Once at a large political gathering for Republicans, Hugh teased a Milliken appointee, Barbara Green, a highly intelligent woman who could embrace Democrat issues. I noticed Hugh periodically buzzing around Barbara like a pesty mosquito. He was humming something under his breath, something that was out of earshot,.but made Barbara blush. In awhile I was able to speak to Barbara, and the mischievous MacDaramid circled back.with an impish smile, He was humming bars of the song Perfidia…
This past winter, sorting through my accumulation of stuff and things, I discovered a few hand-written notes from Hugh. Our acquaintance became a friendship over time. An early memory includes Hugh treating me to lunch at Jim’s Tiffany Palace. In the course of our conversation, Hugh said no one would ever call me a political whore, because I gave it away for free. I told Hugh that the only politicians upset with him were those he quoted accurately. Some 15 years after that conversation, Hugh and I went to lunch. He told me he had read my book manuscript over the weekend, twice. He then gave me his review: “It’s a good story and it’s well told, but who cares if it happened to you.”
P.S. Oops. Was it Jim’s Tiffany Place? I liked going there for Sunday brunch, and the occasional lunch. I favored the Knight Cap for an early dinner. Printed on my favorite coffee mug from there is: “If you like home cookin’…eat’ at home.” Thanks to The Ballenger Report, and the comments about Hugh, I am enjoying a variety of memories sparked by Bill Rustem, and Bunny.
When Bill Ballenger walked the length of State of Michigan in his quest for a seat in the U.S. Senate, and did press in southwestern Michigan, he stayed at my place. I did not get there very often, but after his campaign had ended I discovered a partially eaten bowl of Cheerios on my kitchen counter. At his Christmas party that year, Bill explained: “I like staying there. Before I returned your key, I had one made for myself.”
Except for their politics, Bill Ballenger and Brooks Patterson had qualities in common. Late one night when Brooks returned from barnstorming the state to announce his candidacy for governor, Brooks took my seat at the poker table. While I was satisfying my hunger for Honey Baked Ham, and in conversation with one of his donors, Brooks managed to deplete my large stack of chips. Upon return, Brooks informed me that I had been losing.