Journalism in the 60s and 70s was still a world of epic lunch hours, carbon paper, hot metal and eccentric bosses - and one of camaraderie, dedication and endless hours spent in pursuit of good quarry and copy. Keith Skipper recalls those pre-computer days with sly humour and a sharp ear for rich dialogue. As he says, "time may have spiced up one or two paragraphs - or even erased a few left mouldering in the office wastepaper basket - but they are for the most part honest pages from a souvenir edition printed with affection and gratitude...stirring stories carved out of a golden age held together by typewriter ribbons, paste pot brushes, reverse charge calls from rural red phone boxes and the sort of camaraderie worthy of constant front-page billing."