It is often when retirement time strikes that a man's popularity is measured. For Jean-Claude Brugeron, this day in 2001 was a day of glory. He could be reassured: he was loved, very loved. Never, in memory of Figaro collaborators, a starting pot had gathered so many people. From the young intern to the president and chief executive officer of the newspaper - at the time, Yves de Chaisemartin -, all departments, all grades, all levels were united to toast the health of the colleague. It was the subway at six in the evening. The applause and the hugs badly concealed the tears shed by some at the idea of no longer crossing their "Brubru" every day, since that was his nickname in the editorial staff.
For some, he was a father; for the others, a brother; for all, first a good comrade, even a friend. The one who could be counted on to arrange a painful closure, correct an article in the snatch, modify a page at the last minute, disrupt the scheduling of everyday life in a hurry, when the announcement of a disaster fell, a coup on the other side of the planet, the death of a great man of this world. And always in a good mood, the accomplice smile hanging on the lips. Brugeron was a "duck", a real one: he knew how to make a newspaper.
The love of paper
The author of these lines remembers the Concorde crash on July 25, 2000, around 5.30 p.m., just after takeoff from Roissy: 113 dead in total. Stupor and tremors in a team reduced to a minimum by the summer holidays. In two stages, three movements, ten pages were to be produced. Two hours later, thanks to the professionalism of the investigators and editorial secretaries, to the expertise of Jean-Claude, the case was in the bag, ready for printing. In his hoarse voice, worked by the cigarette, "Brubru" could make the walls of the Figaro tremble with "It is broken!", A consecrated expression of the profession to signify that it is finished!
Jean-Claude Brugeron was born on July 17, 1941, in Paris. Was his passion for the press transmitted to him from the cradle by his father, a book worker? She will never be contradicted, he who, until his last breath, will read daily newspapers and magazines with greed. His home was Ali Baba's cave. He carefully stored his collections, some of which had started in the 1950s. His "vice" was such that he went so far as to photocopy and then tape the items that caught his eye in notebooks. He was unbeatable in the news of the second half of the 20th century. To question his memory was to expose himself to a return of archives!
The Algerian war will mark it. After the Estienne School, he carried out, from 1961, his eighteen months of military service in the 8th RPIMA. Regiment which distinguished itself in Indochina then in the battle of the Dam, on the Algerian-Tunisian border, in 1958. The young paratrooper was proud of his twenty-four jumps. And inexhaustible on his commitment to French Algeria. He will never hide his sympathies for the OAS even if, a few years later, he will participate with Michel Radenac in the publication of Une semaine à Colombey (Promodifa), in homage to General de Gaulle.
It was therefore, almost logically, that he then joined the editorial staff of L'Aurore , the daily that was the voice of the black feet returnees. He frequents a certain Pierre Desproges, in charge of various facts. This is where he got a taste for sailing following the launch of the Solitaire. He will not miss an edition and will collaborate for a long time in the magazine Voiles et voiliers . It was in 1978 that he joined Le Figaro, where he was quite proud of his title as technical editor. Twenty-three years later, he bowed out with acclaim, the love of paper anchored in the heart. Often, since then, he came to greet us and encourage us with a kind word. Before being swept away by the coronavirus this first weekend in April.
The editorial staff of Le Figaro will not forget this valiant soldier of journalism. She offers her sincere condolences to her two children, her five grandchildren and her whole family.