I was not a happy person on that February morning in 1952 when I assumed my new job on what was known as “the rim of the desk” in editorial department of the Winnipeg Free Press. I was one of six sub-editors, seated on the outer circumference of a huge semi-circular table. We were pencil-editing copy and writing the headlines for the stories in that day’s paper. In the centre of the semicircle, facing all six of us sat the “slot man,” our boss, who must fire me if I couldn’t do the job. I was frightened and had good reason to be.