JOHN Scott very nearly never became a journalist. If he hadn't been colour blind, a career as a railway engineer might have beckoned.

He went for an interview, and was shown to a darkened room where lights were flashed.

"What colour's that?" a voice from the shadows asked him.

"Pink."

"And this one?"

"I think that's yellow."

The lights came on again. "Sorry, lad," the young John was told. "You're colour blind. We can't employ you."

So it was that he ended up as a 'copy boy' on his local newspaper, the Yorkshire Evening Press. After all, as his mum liked to say, "John is good at composition."

Not that he got to do much writing to begin with, admits John, 86, in the third and final volume of his memoirs, Paths Not Taken. "I ran with copy from the upstairs subs room to the linotype machines in the basement, once crashing into the editor on the stairs in my enthusiasm; the collision did neither of us any harm. The great man even let it be known that he admired my keenness."

There was a real buzz about working for the Evening Press, the intrepid young trainee found.

"The smells of ink and hot metal type were exciting. Every afternoon the great printing presses would slowly start turning and the whole building trembled as they reached full power and the papers came tumbling out. That sound was the fulfilment of a day's work: something new being created fresh and different every day."

He may have started out on the Evening Press, but John is best known locally for his years spent as chief reporter in the York office of The Evening Press's great rival, the Yorkshire Post.

In the first volume of his autobiography – Does He Speak Welsh? – John described being evacuated from Newcastle to Wales during the war, and then the family moving to York just in time for the York Blitz.

In the second volume, University At Last, he fast-forwarded to his enrolment at York University at the age of 62 – having taken early retirement- to study for a BA in English Literature

Paths Not Taken fills in the bit of his life in the middle – his years as a journalist in York.

It is written with all his trademark humour and lightness of touch, and covers some of the great events in York's recent history, such as the discovery of a Viking city beneath Coppergate, and the small matter of York Minster nearly burning down.

It is John's humour, and his eye for a great detail or colourful character, that make Paths Not Taken such a joy to read, however.

In one early chapter, he describes his first day in the press box at York Magistrates Court. Sitting next to him was a veteran freelance reporter named Noel Blenkin.

He was a journalist not short on opinions.

When the magistrates retired to consider their verdict in one case, Noel nodded towards the man in the dock. "Jail is what he wants," he told the young John. "Too much of this sort of thing going on. Magistrates should make an example."

When they magistrates came back, however, they issued a fine of £10.

John takes up the story; "B'Bloody ridiculous'! exploded Noel, slamming down his pencil. The whole court was startled, the press box froze."

Instead of exploding himself, however, the chairman of magistrates leaned forward anxiously. "You don't understand, Mr Blenkin," he said. "We are very limited in the punishments that we can impose."

There's also a lovely story about a conference in York.

A smartly dressed gentleman was queuing up for his name tag.

John takes up the story again:

"'Name please,' asked the flustered girl giving out the tags.

"'Feversham,' came the reply.

"The girl searched the table in vain and finally asked: 'Could I have your first name?'

"'Lord,' was the answer."

Paths Not Taken is published by Alston Books. It is available from Spelmans in Micklegate, or via Amazon and on Kindle. If bought from Alston Books (33 Southfields Road, Strensall) it is £7.99 including postage.