Man Bites Dog and Other Tall Tales at Straits Echo

Straits Echo and the Awestruck Schoolgirl

The early 1970s were thrilling for me.

Fresh out of my MCE, I had one burning dream: to become a journalist.

By chance, the printing plant of Straits Echo sat at the corner of Penang Road and Argyll Road, easy to reach by bus.

My heart raced as I walked in, unsure what to expect.

There he was — the formidable S.H. Tan, Editor in Chief.

To my amazement, he offered me a job as a cub reporter.

I didn’t take the position, but that moment sparked a lifelong fascination with storytelling.

Falling in Love with the Newsroom

Even without starting work, the newsroom captivated me.

The “tall model” Olympia typewriter clacked rhythmically, a sound that felt oddly magical.

I curled my fingers into claws, trying to make my own version of the hypnotic rhythm.

The printing press was a beast of a machine, crusted with ink and humming like it had a life of its own.

S.H. Tan’s stories about the press made it feel enchanted.

Every sight, sound, and smell planted seeds of inspiration.

Lessons from S.H. Tan

S.H. Tan’s lessons were unforgettable:

• Headline magic: “Man Bites Dog.” Look for the unusual. Make readers stop and notice.

• The Five Ws and One H: Who, What, Where, When, and How — or as he joked, Four Wives and One Husband.

Even without taking the cub reporter job, these lessons stayed with me.

I learned that storytelling is about curiosity, observation, and connecting with people, not just writing words on a page.

Life’s Detours

Life pulled me down other paths.

I spent decades in architecture and construction.

Running projects and turning other people’s dreams into concrete reality.

Yet the memory of Straits Echo — the typewriter, the ink-stained press, S.H. Tan’s mentorship — never left.

It was a quiet spark, waiting for the right moment to ignite.

Along the way, I explored travel writing, event planning, and copywriting.

Each adventure added layers of experience, patience, and wisdom.

Returning to My First Love

Eventually, I returned to writing.

Blogs like SmartDory and Travelstylus, online publications, inflight magazines, and copywriting became my creative outlets.

I could finally answer a long-unanswered question from a colleague.

“Are you happy?”

Yes.

Writing daily fulfills me.

I am a happy old girl, carrying forward lessons and inspiration from that first awe-filled encounter at Straits Echo.

Why Straits Echo Matters

S.H. Tan’s story itself was extraordinary:

• A poor farmer’s son, in the wrong place at the right time.

• A teen POW under the Japanese, learning English from British officers.

• Later, an editor who shaped countless young lives.

He taught me that writing is about people, curiosity, and impact — lessons that resonated long after my brief encounter.

A Shared Nostalgia

One reader wrote:

“Love your blog, Doris! I too was a reporter at Straits Echo from 1975 to 1977… I hope to meet old Straits Echo buddies. God bless!”

Comments like these remind me that the love of storytelling is timeless, and the magic of Straits Echo continues to connect generations of journalists.

From Awestruck to Fulfilled

Looking back as someone older and wiser, I see clearly that my journey into writing wasn’t sudden.

It was a gradual, inspired path, shaped by awe, mentorship, and curiosity.

Straits Echo didn’t just offer a job; it offered a first glimpse of the magic of words.

One that has guided me through decades of adventures and ultimately back to my first love; writing.

P.S. If you ever wonder why I’m often wandering George Town or lingering at Emily Darling Café, it’s because these spots hum with memories from my Straits Echo days — typewriters, ink, and a schoolgirl’s wide-eyed wonder still echo in those walls.