Vincent Doyle (1938 – 21 September 2010)[2][3] was an Irish journalist noted as having served as editor of the Irish Independent for 24 years, considered a lengthy period in Irish terms.[4] He also served as editor of the Evening Herald for several years prior to this.
Doyle was originally from Dublin, reared in Glasnevin, was initially a copy boy until he became a reporter.[5] He joined The Irish Press in 1958, later transferring to The Sunday Press and then onto the Independent Group.[4] In 1977 he was made editor of the Evening Herald.[4][6] In 1981 Doyle was made editor of the Irish Independent.[4] He was also credited with creating the Weekend magazine which comes with the Saturday edition of the Irish Independent.[7]
He was married to Gertie and the couple had three sons; all four of them outlived Doyle.[4] The pair often travelled to far-flung destinations when Doyle was alive.[8] Doyle shunned the spotlight and often wore sleeve garters.[9] He regularly worked late hours.[10] As editor of the Irish Independent he appeared on radio and television just twice.[1]
Upon his death at the age of 72[11] in 2010 he received a tribute from TaoiseachBrian Cowen who described him as "a legendary figure in Irish media".[4] Several other political leaders, such as Eamon Gilmore, John Gormley and Enda Kenny, also sang his praises.[12]Kevin Myers described him as the "last great working editor", the other two having been, according to Myers, Tim Pat Coogan and Douglas Gageby.[13] James Downey also opined that Gageby was his only rival, describing Doyle as "one of the greatest Irish editors of his time, probably of all time".[8]
^ abHopkins, Paul (22 September 2010). "My scrape with Samuel Beckett and a letter to the Pope". Evening Herald. Independent News & Media. Retrieved 22 September 2010. Though he shunned the limelight at the helm of the Indo – he was effectively a shy man and only appeared on TV and radio twice during his 25 years as the paper's Editor – in the newsroom he was master of all he surveyed. He demanded it. Once he got me to buy the rights from the New York Times of a piece by Samuel Beckett on his 80th birthday, a piece I calculated would need two full broadsheet pages to carry it...
