The rapture of waiting for the divine Mr Brando

Ex-journalist Helen Coughlan recalls her exclusive interview with a screen idol.

THERE are precious few days in journalism when life falls so sweetly - and a sunny afternoon in July 1995 was one of those magic moments.

I was a night reporter with this newspaper for less than six months and was on my way in to work for the graveyard shift - 5.00pm to 1.00am - when I was told that I was going to Ballycotton with photographer Denis Minihane to try to get an interview with Marlon Brando. “Yeah, right, some chance of bagging that. But at least it is better than sitting in the office making the routine phone calls to the gardaí and fire station to see if there was anything happening around the country,” I thought to myself.