The very idea of knocking on the door of a recently-bereaved family’s house is one which terrifies most trainee journalists.

Photo by Cristiano Betta

Yesterday, the Press Gazette wrote about a new study which found “death knocks” as a better alternative to relying on messages left on social media websites. I can understand why journalists would think using messages from social media sites would be less intrusive than disturbing the family’s grieving process, but I know better than most how valuable touching base with a bereaved family can be.

When I was 16, the night before my first GCSE exam, my grandfather’s farm burnt down. The first I heard of it was when I was woken by my parents in the early hours of the morning and told what was going on – we live about an hour away from the farmhouse, but this was where my mother had grown up and where we’d spent many a Christmas, although less so since my grandmother had died.

I didn’t find out whether my grandfather was alive or dead until I got up to go to school, but I knew in my heart of hearts as soon as I heard there wasn’t a chance he’d survived. The house was almost completely gutted by one of the worst fires seen in the area for quite some time. Understandably, it was of significant interest to local media.

We actually still have quite a lot of the clippings at home, which, now from the perspective of a trainee journalist, make for surreal reading. Human tragedy will always make headlines and ours was perfect front-page material.

As far as I can recall, the major issue was with photos. We heard through neighbours a local paper were trying to get hold of photographs of my grandfather, the majority of which had been destroyed with everything else in the house. Eventually, a couple of half-decent photos were found, but nothing amazing.

The next day a photograph of the house appeared on the front page of the paper, without my family’s permission or knowledge. We’re talking about a fairly remote farmhouse here. There’s easy access from the road, but you have to climb up a pathway to the farm and get past a couple of gates.

I remember revising for my Biology exam in my room and hearing my parents shouting and screaming. Thinking they were arguing, I crept downstairs to find them shouting abuse down the phone at the editor of the paper, who apparently couldn’t see what the problem was. I don’t know about you, but I would say an apology would probably have been the best course of action at that point.

The whole thing really upset me. I don’t know if this is a good or a bad thing, but I never would have seen the state of the house after the fire if it weren’t for that picture. To be quite honest, I nearly gave up on journalism.

Now, I can understand why the paper took this route. At the end of the day, it was a big local story and sometimes photographs can make or break a great splash. What I fail to understand is why, when they already had our contact details, didn’t they just ask permission or, at the very least, let us know a picture of the still-smoking facade of my mother’s childhood home would be splashed across the front page.

But the real sting about the entire incident was the complete lack of sympathy when my family complained. Our tragedy sold their paper that day – it was the least they could have done.

In the end, it wasn’t enough to turn me away from journalism, but it’s been enough to make me pretty scared of having to do the dreaded death knock. We’ve debated how ethical they are in Cardiff a few times now, and personally, I think they’re a necessary evil if you actually want to do a decent tribute to the deceased.

At a recent work experience placement, I sat next to someone who was on the phone to a bereaved relative. He handled it with the utmost of class and respect and the story the next day was a great one.

I still worry though – what if I get details wrong? What if I manage to utterly offend a grieving family like this particular paper did mine? I suppose I won’t really know until I’m actually sent on a dreaded death knock.

If you want to read a bit more about it, then I’d recommend checking out this article, about what happens when a seasoned journalist has to be on the other end of a death knock.

I promise my next blog post will be more cheerful!