There are thousands of photos of Jacques Delors in the European Commission archives, and on many of them appears a poster of the film “Citizen Kane”, which hung on the wall of his Berlaymont office.

Considered one of the greatest movies ever made, the iconic 1941 film directed by, produced by, and starring Orson Welles wasn’t well received in the US. It could have been forgotten if it wasn’t rediscovered in France in the late 50s – probably when Delors discovered it himself.

Much later, I had the chance to speak to Delors, and on one occasion, he told me that when he was young, he very much wanted to be a film director or a journalist.

But his father insisted that he should get a serious job. “This is how I became a bank clerk, the first of my fifteen professions”, he told me.

Indeed, in his youth, Delors was close to the journalistic profession. From 1959 to 1965, he directed the magazine ‘Citizens 60’ of the personalist mouvement La Vie nouvelle. He then became a syndicalist and a figure of the French left.

He told me that he calls himself a Christian socialist, adding that, unfortunately, there is no such political party in France.

There is a profession Delors didn’t take. In 1994, he famously refused to run for president of France in 1995, although opinion polls predicted his victory. I think he did because, as an honest person, he knew he should not take the responsibility without having a national power base.

Delors felt much more comfortable in Brussels during his ten years as Commission chief from 1985 to 1995 but suffered a major disappointment when Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, and not him, was put in charge of the Convention on the Future of Europe in 2001.

Only weeks later, in 2001, together with two outstanding Bulgarian journalists, Toma Tomov and Ivo Hristov, we started work on a two-hour TV documentary about Delors’ legacy.

When the film was almost ready, we discussed options for the title. When we were reviewing video footage, a technician incidentally stopped the recording, and what we saw in the frame was the unusual decoration in his austere office — the “Citizen Kane” poster.

This is how “Citizen Delors” became the title of our film. Much later, in 2015, Delors was named a “Citizen of Europe”, becoming the last person to receive an honour only Jean Monnet and Helmut Kohl had previously enjoyed.

I personally think Delors should be described as the architect of the EU and as the last of the ‘fathers of Europe’. The name ‘European Union’ and the EU flag became ours under his watch.

Part of the documentary was based on a long discussion we had with Delors in his think tank Notre Europe in Paris in 2001, weeks before the euro coins and notes started circulating.

French francs were still the official currency, but kits of the new euro coins and euro cents were for sale in the post offices. I bought such a kit, and during the interview, I took a one-euro coin and handed it to Delors.

At that moment, I realised that this was the first time Delors touched a euro coin, despite being the father of the European currency.

I asked Delors what he felt holding the euro coin. The cameraman was zooming on his face.

He said that he feels pride “despite the fact that the “eleventh-hour activists got the credit for themselves”.

Indeed, when the euro was launched weeks later, there was little mention of Jacques Delors.

“I feel like a man on the Himalaya top, linked to all other alpinists, and all of us rejoicing, and I’m not glorifying my role”, he added.

I retorted:

“The euro should have been named the Delors. It has a nice consonance with the dollar, plus in French, it means gold.”

He appeared moved and interrupted me:

“There were also ideas to put the face of Mr. Delors on some coins. But someone didn’t like the idea. You know, it’s amusing watching the eleventh-hour activists. But this is life.”

I came back:

“Anyway, every euro coin is a medal to Mr. Delors”.

“You are too kind. Here is your coin back.”

This morning, I published on social media a recording of this conversation, dubbed in Bulgarian. Unfortunately, the documentary is not available online, and I only keep a VHS videocassette recording of poor quality.

It’s not visible on the video, but I saw tears in Delors’ eyes.

I am a journalist, and usually, I don’t make compliments to politicians, but this was the big exception.

Was I a journalist at that moment?

Actually, the Delors magic happened, and for a few seconds, I was Orson Welles.