Editor’s Note: The author of this column does not intend for this space to turn into Grand Sentimental Station — circumstances have just conspired that way the past few weeks. Although he does really enjoy referring to himself in the third person and will likely continue to do so. We now return to our regularly scheduled program.

One of the beautifully frustrating things about life: just when it seems you’ve got things figured out, something comes along to remind you that you really don’t know anything about anything.

Just before we graduated from high school more than 10 years ago, our favorite senior English teacher informed us that our class was “as smart as you’ll ever be right now.”

“Right now, you know everything,” he said. “You’ll spend the rest of your life realizing you don’t know much of anything.”

That’s kind of the way it feels to work as editor of a newspaper: just when you think you know everything, something happens that makes you realize you know nothing.

Nearly five years ago (seriously, five years) the managing editor and publisher of The Daily Home, Graham Hadley and Carol Pappas, took a chance on hiring a sports editor whose only real qualifications for the job were “Um, he ran the sports section at a little paper in Georgia” and a middling college degree. More than three years after that, Carol took another chance by hiring that same guy to be editor the St. Clair Times.

You see where this is going.

Without Graham and Carol, it’s not clear how much of a career in this business I would have. Certainly, you wouldn’t be reading this column right now.

By now, you’ve probably read (or heard) about Carol and Graham resigning. If you read last week’s story, you read about the umpteen different awards they won, or all the times they’ve spoken truth to power (and scared the bejeezus out of numerous politicians and public officials). I’ve been fortunate enough to be along for the ride with them, even claiming a few awards with my own name on them in the process.

The thing is, though, none of that happens without Carol or Graham. And what people remember about you when you’re gone isn’t the awards you won, but the lives you touched.

I owe just about everything I know with regard to designing a newspaper to Graham. He’s a ninja when it comes to that. None of our racing special sections would’ve ever happened without his help; Graham was even willing to sit around on a few particularly hectic football Fridays and help us take calls.

I owe just about everything else I know about working at a newspaper to Carol. None of the reporters who work for our company would be able to do our jobs effectively without a strong leader standing behind us. Carol has filled that role and then some.

This isn’t an attempt to be sappy or over-dramatic — it’s merely a fact: I owe everything — and I do mean everything — I have as a newspaperman to Carol and Graham, in some respect.

So, how much will I miss them? Shucks … I miss them already.