My introduction to The Independent was during two weeks’ work experience at an advertising agency during the summer of 1986. The founders came to present their new publication ahead of the launch in the autumn.
As an 18-year-old college leaver, this was mesmerising, a newspaper that spoke directly to me and my generation. I rushed out to buy a copy on launch day and became a regular reader, never dreaming that I would ever work there.
Three years later, I heard that The Independent was looking for a junior darkroom printer. I went to the City Road offices for interview, somehow managed to pass a printing test, and began the following week. It was the second week of November and fairly quiet news wise, but I was captivated.
By the end of the week, the Berlin Wall had fallen and the whole office was in overdrive.
I will never forget watching print after print of a world-changing event emerge from the darkroom to waiting picture editors, and then seeing the back page the next morning and knowing that I been a tiny part of that.
In the 26 years since, much has changed technically. But it has remained just as addictive.
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