Apology – how do you express 45×7 in just a few paragraphs? Believe me, one year involved in community journalism is the equivalent to seven human years.
This goes back to August, 45 years ago, when we “bunked” school and sat drinking coffee in George Daniels’ house in Main Street, Witbank, when his mother, Heila, lit into us, saying: “Why don’t you two go and find some work during the school holidays”. This was followed by us wanting to know where we could find jobs… The Witbank News carried an advertisement that looked interesting and drew our attention: “Journalists (reporters) wanted for the holiday period”.
There and then we went to the Witbank News office to apply for work. The list for aspiring journalists was long, but the redhead (later) editor, Jeanette McLean, decided to appoint me and George, as well as Cecil Smart and Roselyn Penny, as “cub reporters”. Naturally my father was not very happy with the idea of “writing stories”, as real men worked for the railways, like my three elder brothers, the prison services or the police. In fact, his dream for me was to join the (then) Railway Police (Good grief!!!).
Tacked against one of the steel cupboards in the office of the Witbank News we saw the following newspaper announcement: “There is ink in my arteries…” A fortnight later, several front-page reports and an interview with the Afrikaanse Sakekamer chairman Andre Swart, that was prominently used, the successful ‘blood transfusion’ was completed. There was ink in my arteries… A dream to enroll at a teachers’ training college the following year was quickly smothered by Editor Leonard “The Pen” Neill: “Why go and study for four years when you can start working in December?”
I could not wait to write the final school exam paper, and on 3rd December hurried to the office on my green DHC ten-speed bicycle. This was during the time of black and white photography and Olivetti typewriters. Neill was a boxing-match maker, having begun writing reports at the tender age of 14, and was a formidable editor – the best of teachers ever. Now this is 45 years later… The ink rushed through my arteries in torrents like rivers after a storm…
But how does one describe 45 years of one’s life and live with an intensity that few people experience? Impossible – you cannot… How does someone describe 45 years of experiences of life and death, hope and despair, the most bizarre – right up to the most amazing miracles? You cannot.
Along with Quentin Reynolds, you can only say: “I belong to a good profession – a profession started by a few good reporters, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Some excellent reporter in Genesis told the story of the Creation in approximately 400 words, and there are only 300 words in the Ten Commandments. That is good reporting. The world would never have known about Our Lord if it wasn’t for these reporters. Today we still read their stories and will continue doing so for thousands of years in the future. Christ never left a written word. We only know Him through the reporters of His time…” 
