When I hold up my hands and look at them, I see the dark lines and calluses because of the ink that has covered my hands since I was 18. That was the time I fell in love with printing and the small of ink. Like most boys, I needed to find something that I could do that didn’t involve farming. Don’t get me wrong, farming has been in the family for a long time but the times are changing. The farms are getting smaller and I needed to find a job that would allow me to have a family. I remember the first day I walked into the Herald. I was only 12 and wanted a part time job delivering the daily news paper. It never occurred to me that one day I would be the editor. I will always remember arriving early each morning to pick up my bundle of papers. My route would take me from my home to near the school. Most of my school mates would laugh at me because my hands would be covered in ink from the papers I delivered.