When news broke that John Laws — the man with the “Golden Tonsils” — had passed away at 90, it stirred up a rush of memories from a remarkable time in my career. Like so many Australians, I grew up hearing that unforgettable voice cutting through the national conversation. My mother even owned one of his book of poems published in the 1970’s.
Thank you for reading this post, don't forget to subscribe!But not everyone had the privilege of stepping briefly into his world. I did — and it left a profound mark.
Two decades ago, while I was Editor-in-Chief of New Idea, I realised John Laws was approaching his milestone 70th birthday. I decided to mark the occasion with a major feature. Of course, securing an interview with John Laws was never going to be simple. He had spent a lifetime interrogating politicians, premiers, CEOs and celebrities — and now it appeared my turn had come.
Freshly back in Australia after 16 years working across the UK, US and New Zealand in television, newspapers and magazines, I found myself driving to his palatial Woolloomooloo Wharf apartment where he lived with his beloved late wife Caroline to “discuss” the interview. I quickly learned, the meeting was really about me being interviewed by him.
Fortunately, I knew his stepdaughter Susie, who vouched for me and was present during that first meeting at his home.
The apartment was extraordinary: sprawling views, museum-worthy art, and an entire floor dedicated solely to housing his fleet of Bentleys, and a butler. It was exactly the kind of theatrical scene you might expect from one of the great showmen of Australian broadcasting — breathtaking.
John, who dominated talkback radio for five decades, greeted me with that unmistakable presence: commanding, unpredictable, charming, razor-sharp. Then came the questions. How many pages? Would it make the cover? What angle? How could I possibly distill a life as big as his into four mere pages?
He was right. I couldn’t.
So I told him:
“John, I can’t cover your life in four pages — but I can tell your story visually. Let me run a photo essay from your personal albums. Let the images speak.”
He paused, considered it. Then smiled. I had passed the test.
But what happened next went far beyond granting me a cover story.
John invited me to spend an entire day with him at 2GB — to watch him work, to absorb the pace, precision and electricity of talkback radio at its best. I arrived early, walking through hallways lined with his own collection of Brett Whiteley paintings, a surreal echo of his home. When I reached the end studio — the one with the golden microphone — he welcomed me in.
For hours, I sat beside him as calls came in from political heavyweights, industry leaders and his beloved regular listeners, including a disabled man named Ken. He was clearly extremely fond of Ken and they had a wonderful rapport.
That day I witnessed his remarkable ability to connect with people from all walks of life. His regular callers were a diverse mix — from those facing hardship to the occasional critic. I learned later he helped Ken by sending him a new watch after a simple request, and how he’d even personally visited him. I’d hasten to say his regular calls with Ken were more satisfying to him than any politician. From Prime Ministers to the “lonely pensioner struggling to pay the rent,” Laws listened, challenged, and made each voice matter.
Many would agree, even his ardent fans, that he was flawed. But there was no denying he had a rare gift of empathy, curiosity, and a strong sense of fairness and this was at the heart of his enduring appeal. His former producers and Super Radio Network co-owner Despina Priala have since talked to me about their experience of his generosity, his loyalty and his private kindness, traits often overshadowed by the public persona.
At one point, he even motioned for me to join him live on air — nothing was planned, or scripted but it was a moment I’ll never forget.
In that studio, in that seat beside him, I witnessed the full force of John Laws: the intellect, the agility, the timing, the authority, the warmth. A giant of broadcasting at the height of his craft.
He gave me a rare, intimate window into his world that day — one I remain deeply grateful for.
He was right, of course: four pages would never have been enough. But what he offered me that day was priceless.
Thank you, John, for your time, your talent, your presence — and for letting me see the man behind the microphone.
Rest in peace, John Laws.
A legend, a pioneer, and a voice Australia will not forget.
State Funeral For John Laws
John Laws will be farewelled today at a state funeral in Sydney.
The service will be held at Saint Andrew’s Cathedral at 1.30pm less than two weeks after he died at his home.
