'Comrade, a word.'

The voice was unmistakable: Deep and gravely the delivery came with a hint of youthful mischief as well. I looked round in the car park of the Station Hotel in Perth that morning in 1995 to be confronted by Jim Innes. He wanted to know what I thought of a young Labour by-election candidate by the name of Douglas Alexander.

"Seems very bright," I ventured. Innes squinted before rolling his eyes. His demeanour was always a tad theatrical. He didn't demur from my view before venturing the opinion that the young Alexander "makes me feel like Forrest Gump". Actually, he inserted an expletive between the words Forrest and Gump. I laughed; so did he. That's what you did in the company of Jim Innes. You laughed. A lot.

Innes was not a public figure and his name will mean nothing to the voting public. But he was an example of the kind of backroom general you meet in all parties; people who go the extra mile for the cause without ever seeking the limelight or self-advancement. Jim was known and respected by a Who's Who of Labour figures who were the very biggest beasts in the jungle of their day.

As a public relations man he had a journalist's nose for a story, not surprising in a founder of the West Highland Free Press and Radio Forth broadcaster. He could smell trouble the second a misplaced word left a leader's mouth and would already be formulating the rebuttal in his head the minute pens took to notebooks. As a communicator he knew instinctively the messages that played. Although a man steeped in Labour history and no slouch intellectually, he was only interested in presenting arguments that related to the experience of real people. He had a healthy scepticism of mad activists and grandiose front benchers.

He was at the centre of the disastrous 1983 UK general election campaign and had a central role in the public finding out that it was Gerald Kaufman who had dubbed the manifesto "the longest suicide note in history". His stories of the behind-the-scenes chaos of that campaign were hilarious. When I pointed out the front-of-house drama starring Michael Foot was also a shambles he would roar: "Absolutely Comrade, absolutely." No matter how painful any defeat, Innes never lost a sense of perspective and critically never lost his sense of humour. His self-deprecation was utterly endearing and was another fine feature of this direct and very honest man.

Although he worked for many years in PR with Jim Tait, he was called back by Labour whenever things looked like going pear-shaped. Scottish Labour, to the late Jimmy Allison's volcanic chagrin, drafted in London spin doctors for the Govan by-election in 1988. The result was a spectacular victory for the SNPs Jim Sillars. Disaster loomed seven months later when Sillars' protégé Alex Neil was selected to fight another by-election in neighbouring Glasgow Central. Labour selected the unilateralist union official Mike Watson at a time when Neil Kinnock had U-turned to a multilateralist position. Innes schooled Watson through two difficult TV debates. The now Lord Watson was judged the top performer against the more naturally skilled SNP candidate. His work in Central helped prevent a certain implosion.

His own politics were essentially that of a Labour loyalist. His belief was that working people did better when the movement (party and unions) worked effectively in government. He detested prima donnas and those with a bent for self-indulgence. His class-based view of the world had little time for constitutional politics and he was rabidly anti-nationalist.

The last time I saw him was during the independence referendum. He was hired in a junior role in the Better Together campaign in the weeks leading to the vote. He had more experience and a good deal more talent than many who ran that outfit and it is a mystery why he was not employed earlier in a more strategic capacity. But by then Comrade Innes was happy to do the odd job. He recounted at that last curry that he was fighting Trots and drinking heavily before the leading lights in Better Together were even in nappies. He confirmed to me the chaos at the heart of that organisation, happy to share stories with those he trusted knowing his confidence would never be betrayed.

I never knew he was ill until I learned of his death. It came as a genuine shock to me and I know as a tremendous shock to others. Alastair Campbell has described him as "one of the best" and Adam Boulton correctly remarked that Jim Innes was "one of the best press officers and human beings".

Labour conferences will never quite be the same again for me. I find it difficult to take in that I will not hear the rampage of this ageing hippy, catching my eye, gesturing me towards him before announcing: "Comrade, a word".

Tribute by Bernard Ponsonby, STV's political editor. He joined the station in 1990 and became political editor in 2000. He has presented most election, by-election, and results programmes over the last quarter-century.