 Piz Memoir, Woolpeace and the Derry Journal. Pat, thank you so much for coming in and joining us. It's really great to have you in studio. Thanks very much Greg. So where does this book sit? You didn't want to necessarily write specifically about individual characters or political figures, though you could. It's not an autobiography as such, but it covers your life. So where do you, where does this book sit then? That's good. No, Greg, I had a simple rule. When I started I said, right, if I couldn't remember it, I wasn't going to write about it. So it's a memoir. And that's, and it's all the stories in my life. Well, it's called War, Peace and the Derry Journal, but I'd say a third of it's set in Donegal or from stories from Donegal. Like, I am from Leta Kinney. I grew up here. I had a joint. I went to, I went to St. Junans and after St. Junans, I ended up at Leta Kinney, RTC as it was known in. And like I could see the people there were sort of underwhelmed by my leaving certain results in the sense that I failed maths and my Irish wasn't that great. But anyway, I ended up doing business studies. I was going on for an accountancy. And as you Greg, you know me reasonably well, you would know I'd be the world's worst accountant. So anyway, Sean. Doesn't stop many others. That's for sure. I was there and anyway, very strange thing. Patsy McGonigal, who's a contributor to this place. Patsy was the PE teacher out at the RTC at the time. And he wrote a column for the Derry people. And he was sitting there again. This is how circuitous my life goes. He was sitting in Sean Corn, who ran the Derry people at the time. And Sean says we're looking for a young reporter, a cub reporter. And he, Patsy was very friendly. We got a guy called Jerry Darney, who I believe got a who did qualify as an accountant. And I think he works for De Beers somewhere in America or somewhere. Probably much wealthier than you make it out of. I was a lot wealthier than I am. So Jerry wasn't interested in being a cub reporter, but he knew I was because I had been editing the student magazine. And so cut the chase. Jerry came to me and said, Patsy's on about somebody, there's a paper looking for a reporter. He says, I don't want the job. But he says, I think I might suit you. Yeah. So I joined the Derry people. And I spent what was it basically six years there with Sean Corn and so on. And it was the best, Greg, without question, it was the goodest experience. But there was obviously something in you that was motivated by what was happening at the time or the search for, you know, the search for truth, or wanting to get stories out there. Did you see that in yourself? Ah, yeah, absolutely. You were already applying that in the college there. Absolutely. They also helped. I was good at about three things, English, economics and history. That's what I got my honors on. Perfect. So that was, I should have really been going there. But I worked with Sean. And then, but the other thing, Greg, just running parallel with that was the troubles in the north were really at full swing. You know, I started in 74 and the Derry people, the troubles in the north were really, and 20 miles up the road from me, I was, I grew up another Kenny, 20 miles up the road in Derry. There was British Army, there was REC, there was the B Special, there was John Hume, there was Martin McGinnis, there was Bishop Daly, there was Bloody Sunday, there was all this going on, there was the World's Media there. It was the epicenter. It was the epicenter. Yeah, absolutely. And that fascinated me. And after you see what happened then was Sean Curn, letter Kenny took off like a rocket at that time economically because Courtaulds, as it was then, came in and they promised, I think it was between 600 and 800 well-paying jobs. The RTC came in and there suddenly there was X number of students, I can't remember it's there, 400, 500, all of a sudden. And letter Kenny, which had been a backwater town before that suddenly took off, you know, you could have literally had your dinner on the middle of the street on some days because there was no traffic. Look at it today. Yeah, it was a totally different place. But that was the background and I in 1974 and June 10th, 1974, I joined the Derry people, which is the Donegal News now. Were you in any way cautious about moving to Derry at that time? Were there any in your family saying that, you know, it's a lot going on there? Let me put that in context. I left the Derry people and went to RT. You got a job in RT. And can you imagine the local boy getting a job with a big nice podcast? Yeah, of course. My mom and father were very happy about it and so on. But anyway, I was my dear Mrs. Rosie. We were in RT for about a year. And she says, hey, look, we have to go to my aunt's 50th and uncle's 50th wedding anniversary in Cairndonna. And we were in Dublin on time. And she says, look, it's not a we're half it to go. It's not going to be your choice. We're going to. So we drove all the way down from Dublin, went to Cairndonna, went to this thing. And Larry Doherty, who was the chief photographer with the Derry Journal, I had known Larry and I was sitting having my dinner and he came over and started set. And he says, how do you like Dublin? I says, so so. And he says, hey, you know, there's a job coming up on the Derry Journal, etc, etc. Now, I said, I might be. And he says, look, I'll let you know. So he said, the D-list, they're looking for a chief reporter, but he says what they're really looking for is an editor. So I basically said, I took note of it and so on. And anyway, when the advertisement appeared, Larry rang me up and he says, hey, look, you should apply for us. Now, I don't think I applied for it, but I got a, I sent off a letter to Colin McCarl at the time who was the sort of general manager of the Derry Journal. And then fast forward about two weeks later, I'm sitting in the aisle in this one of the uniformed guys there come up and tap me and tap me on the shoulder. And he says, look, there's a guy from the Derry Journal on the phone on the in the aisle at the press room looking for you. So I went up and Colin's first words were, you're a hard man to get. So I took and he says, the next time you're down, come and come and talk to me. So I came down and I went in and I talked the column and I took the job. But my mother's famous first words were shades of John McEnroe. And I told her it was moving to Derry says, you can't be serious. No, leaving RT going back to going on to Derry. At that time, the hunger strikes were on. There were shootings, there was bombings and she thought you're going to get end up getting yourself killed. You know, because that was the perception. And you were working in news. And you were working in news, which, you know, it's tough now, but you know, you've got different people with different views reading it, you know, different interpretations, you know, that seems risky. And we've seen the risk. Absolutely. You know, over the years, you do get the odd threat like I can't even repeat the language on there. They stand outside me wonder telling me would effing kill me. And there is there's I've got on the phone, like Greg, there was shootings and they like there was all that sort of stuff. And you were right in the middle of it. And of course, you were dealing with, you know, heavy the big piece like John Hume was the what the man of the century, he was the top politician in Ireland. I actually saw him on my office one day. He rang Ben Bradley of the Washington Post. He was able to and he was able to get through and he was on first name terms, so presidents and prime minister. And that was I remember one week he rang me on, I think the Monday, he rang me from America for he wanted to John always wanted the lead story. So he wanted a lead story in the Tuesday's journey on the Wednesday, he rang me from Brussels. And on the Thursday, he rang me from from Westminster. Like John ended up with dimension. I would wonder all that travel on the compressed the air on an airplane. I wonder how much that I do because the man was absolutely just just in relation to your move back from from Dublin to Derry. What motivated you to do that? Because, you know, there is sort of like a pathway, isn't there where you start somewhere, then you move there and eventually you're heading, you know, you want to go national, you would got that move. Yeah, you were in the heart of democracy in the doll and what have you, do you know what I mean? So box tick box tick, you could have spent 40 years doing that. Yeah. But what was it? What was it that swung the move back to Derry? I was fascinated by the troubles in the north. There's no doubt about it. Do you think you did a job to do? I'm not, Greg, I really can't answer that question. I gotta admit, the day of Bloody Sunday, we had gone, my father and my brothers, we had gone to believe it or not, a match at Fun Park and the way back, we had my dad on the radio. And it just started coming in about four o'clock with shootings and the Derry and the other. We came home that night and we sat, the whole family, nobody moved. My dad switched from RTE to BBC to UTV and we listened to that coverage. And for some reason, almost by osmosis, it's steeped under him. But I have to tell one other thing, my father was an absolute news junkie. When he'd get up in the morning, he would put on RTE and then he would put on, before he left, he'd put on the headlines. He used to go to work at eight o'clock, he'd have on the headlines. Back in those days, he was able to get home for lunch and he would put on the one o'clock news on RTE and then he'd put on the six o'clock news and then the nine o'clock news. In the morning, he would buy the Irish press and in the evening, he'd buy the evening press and Sunday, he used to buy the Sunday independent, the Sunday press and later on, Sunday work, now my mother didn't like the Sunday work twice, but we're not going to, but for various reasons. I'll not mention why. So here's the thing, the first morning I was supposed to be doing training on RTE, I went down to the sub-editors desk and the chief sub says, right, Pat here, right, this story and we'll see how you get on. I wrote the story and he's just gone ahead and that's just why. He says, you don't need to, and I didn't realize, now I was an old genius, don't get me wrong, but I had been listening to so much RTE that I knew their style. I didn't need to be trained, you know, because there was a couple of other people and they took them all a week to get into the style and I literally wrote one story and said, no, you can go ahead. Now, the way I sort of framed the RTE experience was that it was the center of, you know, you're in the dull, the center of where decisions are made for the Republic and RTEs. And on first listen, it might have sounded like I was talking of moving back to Derry's a backward step, but I don't believe that because that was where the news was. You were at the heart of the and actually feeding news into BBC, into RTE, because the paper of record for Derry, they'd be saying, well, what's in that? You know, quoted in court, so I'm sure, you know, seen as the record of on the ground. So really, you know, in a way, it was a huge advancement of your career in returning to Derry at that time to that paper. Absolutely. I was in first hand now with people who were sent their stage, you know, like Hume, as I said earlier, was the man. It was quite like the Americans, the first person they rang Ted Kennedy. He was, Hume was his go to person for for advice on Northern Ireland. Kennedy introduced then Hume to Tip O'Neill, who was the speaker of the House. Reagan, apparently Ronnie Reagan after a first meeting with Margaret Thatcher, and as they were closing their books, apparently one of the first things he said to her was, and what are you going to do for my friend, Johnny Hume? You know, that's the influence. The claim was that when many other people were showing, showing in the back door of the White House, Hume could go in the front door. Was that a two way relationship? Because, you know, you talked of John Hume being ringing you up and saying, look, I'd really like the lead on this one. But that works in another direction. He's got some contacts book. Hasn't he? Did that work to your advantage? Yes and no. By the way, I never quite got the same John and he was a brilliant man and other, but he could be pregnant. He could be. When you really, really know people, you know, when you have a relationship that's not that goes a little bit closer because you're from the same area, ish, you know, you know the ins and outs, like it's a bit different. I think he knows someone a bit better than the rest of the world. Yeah, exactly. There's a, like I want to put it on the record. John was the architect of the whole piece by absolutely. But he, you know, this St. John, one that I read about, John could be very difficult to deal with. Now he was under a hell of a lot of pressure and all the rest, but he also and he was a genius, like he had a brain the size of a planet and so on. But he expected, you know, almost like you were some sort of acolyte that when he spoke, you should listen. You weren't. Yeah, I think he thought you should sort of follow on question. And like, as my dear brothers will tell you, I'm not quite that type of person. I feel I'm entitled to my own views. But I'm sure you are very much respected above other people for that, because people in Paracan have respect that, don't they? But then you had courses like Martin McGinnis. Yeah. If Hume was young, Martin McGinnis was young, like Hume was sort of the peace man and Martin was allegedly the war man. So there you go, Greg. So in terms of particularly when you became editor of the newspaper, how did you present the news? Because a reference to this earlier on, you know, you could have the army reading it from one perspective, you could have the Protestant community from another perspective, the Republican community from the loyalists and, you know, different eyes on the same story. So how what was the editorial policy? How did you present your stories so that you didn't feel like you were excluding any any particular group? Greg, I have to say that's a brilliant question, because that was one of the first problems I ran into. Before I arrived, the other before me was Frank Corn Frank was of the old nationalist tradition and so on. And the brilliant man too, he was very good. But the pepper was very traditional. And you know, the hunger strikes were on and I remember chatting to people and I could see things were changing. So I started, but the traditional thing in the diary journal was, if it wasn't John Hume, it was Bishop Edward Daley. And if it wasn't Bishop Edward Daley, it was maybe the mayor and so on. And I started putting in statements from Martin McGinnis and started putting in statements from Gregory Campbell and any of the DUP and so on. And I remember one day I got, I'd reached ahead one says, you're turning this pepper into sort of like the, on public because you're publishing other people's statement. But at that stage, Sinn Fein, we're getting about 30% of the votes on the big houses. I remember one reporter said Pat, there's them and us and I thought in terms of the North she meant Catholics and Protestants. That wasn't what she was referring to at all. She was referring to the fact that there's what they call the Colmore set. And then there's the people who live in places like the Bogside and the Craig and that's generalization. But that's what, what she meant was the Colmore Catholics were the Catholic people who were nice middle class, the doctors, the lawyers, and she says, they don't speak for us. So the British, the British army weren't creating their houses. They're reading our houses there now. So there was a dichotomy there than which a lot of people were the Catholic community, what just wasn't sort of homogenous. There was a lot of different views. Was the balanced approach a red line for you? Clearly, obviously, because you maintained that. Yeah, I got into a fairly big row with the proprietors, the directors. And I said, look, here's this. And by the way, I was very nervous about it. I was only in the job about a year. And here it was a young editor telling the people who owned it, I am changing everything. And I said, look, here's the rule, as far as I'm concerned. It's the best story every week. I don't care for every edition. I don't care whether it's from Sinn Fein, the DUP, SDLP or whatever. The rule is it's the best story. Did you have to change a culture then within the news? Yes. But Frank F.E. McCarls, the proprietor, it was a brilliant man. I kept saying, but he was really, and he looked after me. He said, right, Pat, as long as I can stand up, and anybody rings in this door or anybody comes on to complain, that that's the best story that's in each edition, that's our lead story, our respective, he said, I will support you all the way. And he did. Not that it is the, not that it is really how you test the success of something, but the new approach, did it have an impact one way or other on circulation? Absolutely. A couple of things happened. A long came Dairy City into the League of Round, but the Tuesday paper doubled circulation. The Friday went from someone like 1920 up to about 27. And at one stage, I remember, on a couple of pages, about 29,000 paper sales on a Friday. Now, that was special occasions. But it worked very well. The Dairy Journal was actually at one stage earning more money than some of the Nationals. And we, and it was very, very influential. Greg, when you consider the fact that between Dairy and any show, and we parted on it all, a paper was selling 29,000. Like you look any paper and I wouldn't get anywhere near that. So Pat, at the height of the troubles, you're living in, you're working in, on a really important newspaper of the time, covering all the issues of the day. And then of course, you know, you're from Letterkenny, so you're coming down to Letterkenny as well. How different was Dairy to Letterkenny? And how bizarre was it to sort of step from one environment into the other, yet them so close together? It was day and night. It really was day and night. The first day I, you know, I was telling my mother's famous one, You Can't Be Serious. I remember the first, one of the first days I drove up the Strand Road in Dairy. And I noticed, for some reason, I noticed all the street lights had been shot out. And I asked somebody, what happened? She said, I shot them out so dark their active service units could move around. The hunger strikes were on. And every gable end had support, the hunger strikers and all. And I remember thinking, have I made the right decision here? And the other thing is back then, we had two kids. I remember a lot of weekends, I would leave Dairy. We were living in Dairy, and I'd move back out to Letterkenny and stay with me parents just to get away from it all. And anyway, I remember one Sunday morning, I got a call from one of the reporters, and she was really, really upset. Our lead story on Friday had been about a young fella who had gone up and he had confessed to being an informer. And anyway, she was really upset. His body was found, he had been executed by the IRA, and his body had been found not too far from our home. The thing was, she was the only reporter at the press conference where he admitted is. And she was really uptight. She said, we were sort of used to justify the execution of this young fella. So I remember, I met a couple of senior Republicans, I said, we will never, ever go to a press conference like that. We're not here to justify no of the execution. That wouldn't have happened in Letterkenny, you know, but that was the reality of life in Dairy. And I remember one day, we had a guy from the British Army, and we had John Human, and we had Martin McGinnison, and I thought to myself, this wouldn't happen, you know, in Galway or Kerry. It couldn't happen. You know, he was the colonel from the British Army. It used to be funny, but a well-known Republican in Dairy told me what used to happen was, the British Army guy would come in, and there'd be two big Land Rovers come in first, and everybody would say, oh, that's the colonel arriving. But about ten months later, this little sort of incident, now if I can care, would come in, and that was the colonel. You know, in other words, they were watching their security, but a Republican guy says, we know that the colonel comes in and we care that's following. So that's how the up to speed they were, you know, they knew exactly what was going on. But you had all sorts of people coming. I remember at Greg, we used to get, I remember there's a guy, a French guy, often wondered afterwards, was he a secret agent or something, because he used to come in regularly. But my best story about that, Greg, was I was sitting one day, and there's this guy called Kathleen Greenover, I remember her name, she worked for the American Embassy, and she rang me, and she said, Pat, can I bring this guy down to DC? And she said, on a Thursday, and I said, now Kathleen, no way, you know, absolutely no way on a Thursday. So that was, I think it was Monday or Tuesday, and she rang again. She rang about three times, and the third time she was almost begging, she says, look, can I bring this guy down? So she brings this guy down, and I stood out of central casting, he was about six foot four, teeth, you could see your reflection and blonde hair, and so on. And he wore those type of coats that the American Secret Service. So the guy sat down, and he started asking me about Martin McGinnis, and he started asking, but I was so busy, I wasn't paying attention, you know, and so on. And he stayed for about an hour and a half. I actually had to say, look, you people have to go, I can't keep doing this. So because it was Thursday, because we had a paper. Anyway, following Monday morning, or morning, Martin McGinnis came down, and I was chatting with him, and I was getting up to leave, I said, by the way, Martin was a guy from the American Embassy, or American down here the last day, asking a lot of questions about you. And he says, oh, Jesus, Pat, what did you say? And I said, what do you mean? He says, that guy is from the CIA, and so on. Now, how Martin knew this? I don't know. Now, I remember the guy's name at that stage, I don't remember it now. Understood. What they were doing was, Bill Clinton was checking out whether to give McGinnis and Adams visas to come to the States. Oh, wow. And your man was checking out what, whether the bona fides of McGinnis and Adams were worth giving. Did he get the visa? He got the visa. Well, you didn't get it. So that was my rule of peace process. And it really doesn't get the attention it deserves. Now, obviously, you know, you can oppress people with bad news all of the time, right? And then eventually people can, I'm not picking up the paper because it's draining me, right? So was it a difficult process to balance light and shade with features, with talking about positive stuff, maybe featured articles or collumes or what have you? Greg, I remember one day you'd need happy polls to read this paper, because it was so depressing, there's bombs, shootings, court cases and all around. And one day I remember thinking, this is, I remember one Friday I was going through it and I said, this is really, you know, it was dark all the time. And why would you bother? If you knew there was a bomb up a town, I'd kill the couple of people. Why do you want to read the journal on Friday to tell you the same story? Yeah. So I had this idea one time. I was out walking one day and I heard there were two teenagers, a boy and a girl walking ahead of me. And the wee girl was definitely the brains of the outfit without question. And anyway, they were slagging each other. And I remember she turned around and she said to him, you know, when you were born, a doctor should have slapped your mother for bringing such an ugly kid into the, you know, it was vicious, but it was really humorous. And I thought, wait a minute, the dairy people, you know, the old joking dairy, what's first prize is a weekend dairy, the second prize is two weeks, you know, and they had a great self deprecating sense of humor. So I had this idea, I came up with this idea called the Jude, the dead column. And I deliberately put it on page two, because our editorial was on page two, and it was always serious. And I thought, right, here's a wee bit light and shade. And I remember the management were the directors, weren't sure about this, because the Dairy Journal was quoted in parliament, it was quoted in courts, it was quoted back in Emmett. And this sort of, you know, do I do this? Does it trivialize that? You've got it. You've got it. And I thought it was dodgy. But anyway, I remember they were sort of panicky, sure about this. And I see I didn't discuss it, well, they would just put it on bottom line. It took off like a rocket. Dairy people just loved getting their name mentioned in jail. It was because it was interaction with the community. The only time anybody ever got mentioned in the Dairy Journal was either whether they were shot dead or in court. You know, they will joke about what they call a dairy man with a suit, the defendant, you know, that all that sort of stuff. So suddenly here, and we started, we started doing a lot more features, and we tried to get away from the sort of the doom and bloom of the trophy. And I suppose if it came, it was to reflect the community, to hold them here up to it. And that is light shade, the humor, the dark humor, and all that kind of stuff. Time, I wish I had another hour. Is there a piece you wrote, an interview with someone, a moment that's easy for you to identify as a stand out? Yeah, Greg, you know, everybody says, you know, the sort of triptych of, you know, McGinnis, Hume and Bishop Daley. Nothing to do with, one day this wee woman came in to see me. She was called Peggy McFadden, and she was from Melbourne, Australia. She was sent out as a child, as a child migrant. On the way out, they took away sort of her birth certs and all the rest of it. They changed her name. She spent 50 years looking, she had one brother in this earth, and she spent her time looking for him. And the story she came back in, normally somebody would come in to see me and they'd get 10 minutes, because it was so busy. She came in at about 11 o'clock one day, and the deputy editor was what Gerard Colchivon, Michael Iney, she rang in about three times. Peggy was still there at two o'clock, she was been in. But she told me the story that she spent 50 years looking for her brother. She came to a dairy, she went to the Nassar's house, nobody gave her any information. Anyway, the law changed in Australia, and she got an information where her brother was, and his name was, she said he was working on a farm by a people called, belonging to people called Daley in Ballabafé. So the only person she knew with that name was Bishop Daley. And so she wrote to Bishop Daley and said, Bishop, can you find this, this is my brother, I've been looking for him for 50 years. He says, Bishop Daley says, yeah, of course, and he rang up the parish priest in Ballabafé, and the parish priest says, look, there's nobody here called Daley. And Bishop Daley went, who was a totally decent man, says, wait a minute, Ballabafé, and he said, Ballabé. So he rang the parish priest in Ballabé in Monhan, and they asked, was there a Patrick McFadden working there? I said, Bishop, there was, but he's dead, he died two years ago. Now Peggy came in and told me the story, and she's, no, the real kicker, the real, when I was looking for my brother, she says, we're going to Dublin one day, and the bus that we're in, or whatever it was, broke down. And they took everybody off the bus into this wee cafe, and where? Ballabé. And she said, she sat for two hours, and she said, did my brother walk past me? Did he, did he, you know, and she said, she got a break, she said, after she got the letter, she had a nervous breakdown. But there's a lot more to the story. Is it in the memoir? I mentioned her in the memoir, yeah. I was going to say, there could be a whole book on its own. Listen, I've kind of got, just to get access to you and just chat about your amazing career path, and I kind of, it is all really about the memoir as well at the same time, because much of that is contained within Warpiece and the Dairy Journal. 12 years ago, you started this, why did it take so long, why did it take so long to get it out? That was my fault. Kevin O'Darty was the parish priest and Newton, and he was a friend of mine, and one day I met Kevin for a coffee, and we were sitting chatting, like me and you were chatting now, and he says, Pat, why don't you write all this down before you forget a type thing, and so on. I says, write, Kevin. So I started work the fall on Monday morning. I worked until about Thursday, and then I took a break for 12 years. So I don't know why, but I met Kevin, who's of Colin Kilpress, and I met him one day, and he says, Kevin was subtle. He says, Pat, write it all down before you get Alzheimer's. That was the, and then I said, wait a minute, several people said, Pat, even if nothing else, even if you don't publish it, why don't you leave it for your kids? And that was the motivation then to do it. Yeah, and it's kind of your memoir so far, because of course, you still write for the paper, you still commentate on matters, you've got your podcast with Jude twice a week, you're teaching with writing groups as well, so it's not over by any stretch of the imagination. So the journey that you take the reader on is it's similar to what we've been doing here, it's the highlights, the important parts, and you tell a lived experience, not just a working experience of wall piece and working in the paper. I started off, and a guy called Sean Corn, and I want to put on the record here now, what I learned in journalism, I learned from Sean Corn, and I owe him everything. But like, I used to travel to the courts with Justice Larkin, you know, like he wouldn't do that now, you know, and you'd end up in all sorts of ways. Like Larkin one day, I remember he made a total mess of a case. And when we got back into the car, he says, Pat, what do you think of my judgment in that case? And I said, Justice, you got that wrong, because one guy totally contradicts us, and he didn't speak to me the whole way home. Then about a month later, he asked me, what did you think of my decision in that case? And I said, brilliant judge. And that he was happy. Right. Okay. I don't, I haven't got a hold of the book. Some kind of going off. It won't be out until the first of the first week in November. Are you proud of it? Absolutely. I'm not. Greg took 12 years. And I know I'm glad I did it. That's, I don't know. Prod's the right word, but I'm glad I did it. Yeah. And as you're reflecting, those conversations you had, those relationships you had, the role you played in being a paper of record, which we don't see as much anymore, we're not getting nostalgic. Did you miss it whilst you were doing it? And as you look back now, you realise, wow, okay, something really, really important happened. I was engaged and involved with really important things with really important people. I think sometimes when you're living it, you don't get it as much. Yeah. What was it like reflecting back on it all? I don't remember who told me this, but I was told there's three jobs in Dairy worthwhile. The MP, the Bishop and the editor of the Dairy Journal. And I never knew, I never thought I would be the third sort of cog in that or the third leg of that particular stool. And yeah, see when I retired, Greg, I really didn't miss it. There wasn't an adrenaline thing of being involved in the Dairy Journal. You were the center of the universe. Like Garvin Downey, who's the publisher, as I mentioned earlier, he made the point, there were silos that British Army didn't talk to Sinn Féin, the Sinn Féin didn't talk to the SLP, the SLP didn't talk, well, you know, but they all talked to the Dairy Journal. So you were getting it from every side, you know, but that being said, the Dairy Journal has to be established and run and edited in a way that keeps those lines of communications open. And often that's the real challenge. That was the real challenge. And you know, but we went out, we had a rule, you left your politics at the front door, and we published every, every side and we didn't, and we've without fair, Gregory Campbell, who's the DEP guy was on regularly. And Wally Hay, who's a senior figure in the DEP said that I actually said it on the record that Dairy Journal was one of the first papers they had come across. And I was very proud of it. Well, I've about an hour of more questions that I don't have. It's been described the book as revealing an insightful memoir. MacArthur reflects on a life devoted, a life of devoted service to the people of the Northwest Ireland, recalling the triumph and the tragedies, the villains and the heroes. And it's out when? I think it's the first week in November. Okay, well, we'll make sure to remind people then stocking filler alert. Okay, thanks, Pat. Thanks very much.