Trial by Fire

A first encounter with the pace and pressure of real-time public relations.

The recent news of the passing of musician Duncan Sheik brought back a sudden flood of memories from my first public relations assignment. I can laugh now, but at the time, it was the definition of managed chaos. I truly thought it was the beginning of the end of my career in one night.

How it all began

In the late 1990s, I pivoted from working in design with a management consulting company to a small two-month contract with the US Committee for UNICEF (now UNICEF USA) working on tracking their River Blindness program in Africa, in partnership with Merck. It was a risk, but I thought it would be a great opportunity to start working in international relief and development.

I had newly arrived in New York City from Boston four months before and was eager to roll up my sleeves and make an impact. I worked together with their wonderful and caring CFO on the program. One day he asked if I would like to also assist with their upcoming 50th anniversary, helping their PR department with the press. As I was eager to make a good impression, I said yes.

I sat in my cube and phoned the press to pitch coverage. It was very slow going in the lead up. First Lady Hillary Clinton, was the guest and keynote.

The hottest ticket in town

A week before the event, news broke on the Monica Lewinsky story and all hades broke loose, as we were the first event the First Lady would be publicly attending. The press was calling us off the hook. We quickly began to get backlogged with press passes and keeping track was turning into a nightmare.

At the event itself, I arrived early but did not see my manager or her director. The talent manager was onsite and managing a room by herself of about 12 to 15 prominent celebrities at the time. I was assigned to manage the growing press pack. I arrived on the second floor of the Sheraton New York to an unhappy crowd of over 100 press outlets (domestic and international) that had been made to wait. I quickly stood on a platform and ordered them to follow me down to the red carpet, issuing instructions that the First Lady was not walking the carpet and would not be taking questions.

I filed down the stairs like the Pied Piper with a long line of photographers and television cameras to the dismay of White House security. Those lovely gentlemen helped me arrange them behind the red ropes of a long, small room. They were so packed in.

Once that was done, I was assigned to keep the celebrities occupied in their small holding room. I remember being eyed up and down by Claudia Schiffer and Christie Brinkley and was wondering whether I had dressed well enough. Being the only non-celebrity in the room was a bit surreal.

We then started to usher the celebrities down a red carpet that would have delighted their agents. I was assigned to the talk show host, Sally Jessy Raphael. Sally did not need an usher and managed it herself.

Last minute pivot

As I turned to walk back thinking my work was done, I was grabbed and asked if I could usher Duncan Sheik who had just arrived and was a bit nervous about the whole thing (so was I). I agreed to help out.

I was introduced and started to chat with him. We were the same age and he was very down to earth. I asked if he wanted to be introduced to any of the celebrities and he responded with a quick no. It took us a while before we were able to make our way down the red carpet, and we both shared our nerves given the size of the press pack. I repeatedly assured him that I would help him manage it and would ensure no interviews went too long and that he was in front of the right cameras. Boy, was I confident for someone who never walked a red carpet. Ah, youth!

When our time came, we walked slowly down the carpet, and somehow, had to make our way through a red curtain, which opened directly in front of the press pack. The amount of flashes completely blinded me and I froze. He laughed and guided me forward. If I could have run, I would have. We moved forward to E! Television first with my being mindful to stay out of his shot but ensuring he was moving along the press line. He kept looking over his shoulder and I would step closer to reassure him. In reality, I think he was checking to make sure I was okay. My confidence grew the longer we were out there, and I told myself, “you have one job right now, to make sure he has good exposure and no problems, just do it.”

After about 20 minutes we made it out into the reception area. We were both relieved and Duncan teased that he escorted me down the red carpet. We chatted for quite some time as we approached the head table with the MTV executives. I was mindful that he needed to engage with them and stepped away to the back of the room.

On the ride back home to my shared apartment downtown, the rush of that evening was truly a shock to my system. One thing I knew was that I would never want to be a celebrity.

I was thrown into a situation I had no previous experience in and used my instincts to try to do the right thing for the brand and its image at every turn in a fast-paced situation and to fill the staffing gaps. Sometimes, that is all you can do. The upside, it gave me the confidence to try new things and to know I was prepared to handle high-pressure situations.

And thank goodness it was Duncan and not another celebrity. In the middle of all that noise and pressure, Duncan’s humanity was the thing that steadied me. His kindness, his calm, and the way he kept checking over his shoulder gave me an anchor I did not know I needed.

In a moment that could have easily unraveled me, he offered grace without fanfare, and it allowed me to move through the chaos with a clearer head and a steadier presence.

I did not fully understand it then, but that night taught me that the people who carry themselves with quiet decency make the work, and the world around them, more manageable. And they also help create long-lasting memories. He was one of those people.

Rest in peace, Duncan.