Editorial, by LYNDA DAY

lyndalurker
Dear Readers,

HELLO EVERYONE, and welcome to this very special commemorative issue of The Junior Gazette, celebrating 35 years since we published our first edition. Goodness, how time flies! 2024 finds us all much older and wiser. Well, almost all of us.

In the coming weeks, and throughout this year, we will be looking back over our best and brightest times, remembering our high-spots and victories, as well as reflecting on the occasional tragic loss. We’ll also be profiling some of team that worked at the paper in those early days and digging out some rare gems from the JG archives to share with you.

You may experience a sense of deja vu in our forthcoming #PGat35 posts – some previously appeared as part of our 25th-anniversary celebrations, and we are fully committed to recycling!

We do hope to share all-new content very soon (and indeed make it to the end of Year 2 this time around, at the very least)…

I realise that some of you may be curious, so I will address the elephant in the room: how on earth did I escape certain death after falling from the rooftop of a high building becoming trapped in the blazing inferno that used to be my newsroom, and where exactly have I been during the intervening years…?

There have been many increasingly outlandish theories offered up over the years, including some first-hand sightings reported from all over the globe. However, I can categorically confirm that I did not dye my hair ginger, marry Ross Kemp and ditch my moral compass entirely in favour of a high-profile career in tabloid publishing; nor have I been holed-up in a secret apartment concealed between the first and second floors of Mathews Mansion, developing an attractive stoop due to the extremely low ceiling, an equally delightful pallid complexion and a crippling Vitamin D deficiency.
Derren
Suffice it to say that Colin is deeply implicated in the events of that fateful night, and has been footing the florist’s bill for Derren Brown ever since.