Section 1:
Q: I have heard everybody talk
about linotype, but I am still a little fuzzy
about how that works. Can you go through that
for me?
A: Sure. We just shipped ours out. The last,
the Model 14, went out to the shop three
weeks ago. Chuck Dunham, over in eastern
Iowa, bought it and he said that he has an
outlet for some places in South America that
still use linotypes and he thought he had a
market. We'll see about that. But the
linotype is a great machine. We used to cuss
it all the time when we were operating it.
But the name suggests the function. It sets a
line of type instead of individual letters on
a stick that you have in your hand. And you
did that by a keyboard. A little like the
typewriter keyboard, but enough different
that you couldn't translate from one to the
other very easily. All the capital letters
were on one bank and then the lower case
letters on another. Each time you pressed a
key, it dropped a brass matrix, a mat, down a
channel and into this slot where the mats
were assembled one letter at a time. And
then, your spaces came in there. That whole
line, then, was held in kind of a gripper and
it was pressed into, actually, it was a
complicated machine, rotating and held
against hot lead. The hot lead was pumped by
a piston against the face of that mold. And
it cast a line of type. The line was ejected
then in a tray and they came out one at a
time. A good linotype operator could find a
job anywhere in the country at any time.
Depression times included. A real good
linotype operator, like Clara [Sisson], who
worked for us, could hang the machine. That
meant that you were fast enough on your
keyboard and the mats dropped fast enough so
that the line was all ready for the next cast
before the one ahead is kicked out. We had
operators like that and most shops did. The
advantage...I am in love with old things, I
guess, all the time. And the linotype had the
advantage of being completely recyclable in
its materials. Once the page was printed,
why, you took all those slugs, those lines of
type, and you threw them into the hell box
and the hell box went to the pot and were
melted down and then cast again. Over and
over. And you didn't have much waste.
Occasionally, you would have to add a little
bit of tin or a little antimony to the
mixture, the type metal, but most of the time
it just functioned with very little drain.
Now, the offset method, you know, you shoot
the negative and it is scrap and it goes to
the scrap dealer and you plate the plate and
it's printed and then it goes to the scrap
dealer and you are always using materials.
But, we didn't have much waste in that
letterpress method.
Q: Why is it called the "hell
box?"
A: [laughs] I don't know. It is one of those
old printer's terms. The hell box was right
here by the stone. I suppose it would be hell
if you had to re-assemble one of those pages.
That happened, by the way. In my student days
in Iowa State, we printed on an old Goss
Comet press. And the Free Press had a
Goss-Comet at one time. It was a flatbed
press that printed from a big roll of
newsprint. An ingenious kind of thing.
Somehow, the system of gears and everything,
that web was advanced and stopped over the
paper and then the impression roller came
across and pressed it against the type and
then came up and the whole thing moved on and
so on. Anyway, it was a flatbed press and we
assembled those pages in big iron frames
called "chases" and clamped them in with
screw-type clamps so it held the page. The
pressman, in putting one of those pages on,
late at night - it was a daily paper and it
must have been ten-thirty or eleven o'clock
at night - it slipped and the whole page fell
into the pit underneath the press. We were
still there. And it was the front page, of
all pages. He called, my brother and I and
several others of the student staff were
still in the building, and said, "We have got
bad news." We went down and we scooped that
pied page up from the pit and we assembled it
in galleys of type. Of course, it didn't make
any sense at all at that point. But we did
have the galley proofs of those stories. And
we had enough labor on hand so that everybody
had a galley of type. One guy would read the
first line and everybody would look through,
to see if they had that line. "I've got it."
"OK. Put it in." The next line and the next
line. Well, as you went along, it got easier.
We re-assembled that page and, by George, we
got the paper printed about an hour and a
half late, but nobody knew the difference. --
Section 2:
Q: You have got a roomful of potential
journalists?
A: Really? Good. I thought they were all
radio and television people.
Q: They are journalists, aren't they?
A: Well, that's debatable. [laughs]
Q: What is the incentive for them to work for
a country newspaper? How much could they
expect to make and would you recommend that
they work for an Iowa country newspaper?
A: First of all, yes. I think that would be
the greatest training in the world.
Money-wise, no. Even today, the wages are
miserable. But, if you really get on a good
newspaper, one with some good editors that
can kind of ride herd and teach you the
business, there is no better way to learn to
write for anything that you would do. I am
not that familiar with TV scripts, but when I
was working in Omaha, one of my best friends
was a WOW radio newsman. And they, pretty
much, did the same thing we did, which was
write news copy to fit their style and their
space limitations and whatnot. Anybody that
is going to be in journalism, I think, needs
to write. And the more writing you do, the
better you get at it. A weekly newspaper is a
great place to learn to write.
Q: Is that all it is, though? Just a
training ground?
A: You could become a publisher and starve to
death in a dignified way and have a lot of
fun. And I think my brother, of course he has
got a glamorized vision of the small town and
the newspaper and all, but he thinks that is
what we are missing today is fun. And, in a
sense, he is right. But it is too bad you
have to starve to get the fun. But it is fun
and you have a great sense of satisfaction if
you stick with it. And this would be the
thing that would hold you in a small town and
on the newspaper, would be to see some of
those projects that you helped. Now, this
community building - this is boosterism. But,
when you can look back over forty years of
that boosterism and say, "Boy, we did a job
in that town. Look at that. School complex.
Three school buildings. A beautiful athletic
field. The whole campus. And the trees are
now big enough and everything looks great."
Q: Getting back to Brian's response, that is
only based on if you have enough money to own
the paper. And it still gets back to the
training ground issue. To attract bright,
young Iowa State and University of Iowa
students to Adair, it would seem the paper
would have to offer more than fun. So, I
guess what I am asking is, the built-in
limitation is, unless you own a paper, is it
just a training ground? And it is a damn good
training ground. But, there is not that much
money in it unless you own a paper and there
isn't even that much money if you own the
paper.
A: There are some enlightened journalists of
my generation and earlier, Leo Mores comes to
mind as being a real leader in community
journalism. He is the publisher emeritus at
Harlan. His two sons now run the Harlan
paper. At a time when he had kind of
established himself, and hit his stride, he
went around the state looking at bright young
men. Chick Gonzales at Guthrie Center was
one. Paul Bunge up at Osage. Frank Morlan
over at Osceola. He would go to them with a
proposition. They were out of journalism
school and working as ad or news people on
weekly papers. He would say, "There is a
paper for sale. I will buy it and I will
establish you as publisher and you can pay me
off over time from your earnings. Eventually,
you can own a controlling share of it and be
the publisher." And that worked for Leo and
it worked for those guys. We need more of
that kind of dedication, I guess, you would
call it. But, I don't know of any program
right now that is doing that, or of any
individual. I don't think he had any
missionary zeal. He saw a good financial
thing. He is a millionaire. And, those papers
have prospered under that kind of home
ownership, where those guys like Paul and
Chick work twenty-four hours a day.
Q: How do you see the future of
small-town newspapers in Iowa? Is there a
future?
A: I think there is a demand for the product
and that means that there would be a future.
And the chains make money on them, so
apparently financially, maybe you would have
to have more than one to get to a living
wage. I don't know. I complain about the low
wages in the community newspaper, but it is a
good life. And I have never starved,
obviously.
Q: Could you be more specific
about how much money we are talking about
here?
A: Well, we are talking about family income
in the neighborhood of twenty to thirty
thousand dollars. And that is with the wife
working night and day and the publisher
playing around. [laughs]
Q: That might not be attractive to students.
A: I know. It is realistic, though. There
were times when the relative pay was better
than now. Hugh keeps telling me, and I have
no idea what the salaries are, for instance,
in the television stations, but they must
have a tremendous wage scale if what he
indicates is true. And all those people, and
all doing the same story. Three Des Moines
stations, all covering the same fender-bender
accident on the six o'clock news. That is
terrible. If I had a staff of two people, I
could think of features that I would do every
week. I don't know how many, you guys would
know, how many people they have on the Des
Moines television news staff. All I see, is
like you, the anchor people at the desk
reading the news.
Q: KCRG in Cedar Rapids has about
forty people.
A: Forty people. Just think of that. Well, on
the Register, damn them, they have got a
hundred reporters. The things they could do
would be immense, I think. I met a weekly
newspaper editor, I don't know whether he
went into broadcasting or moved up to a
daily, I just happened to casually meet him
at some kind of function. He said, "I was in
the weekly newspaper business for a year." I
said, "Where was that?" He told me. It was a
little town. He said, "I never worked so hard
in my life." I said, "Well, yes. That sounds
realistic." And he said, "It was just night
and day. I had to write all this news. All
that sports. All that city council.
Everything. I never had to write so much copy
in my life." And that is why it would be
excellent training, you know. You have to
deal with all those topics. --
Section 3:
Q: I am interested in hearing more
about the newsroom climate and what it was
like when you were with the World-Herald.
Did all the guys go out afterwards?
A: Oh, yeah. I was a single man then. My
brother was single. I think we had one of the
last old, front-page editors in Fred Ware. He
was managing editor. He had some of that old
flamboyance. He was a bow-tie man. That came
from the old letterpress days, you know, when
you didn't want to wear a tie like this
because it dragged over the type and got ink
on it and got caught in machinery. But, Fred
was...he loved to pretend to be gruff, so he
presided over that newsroom with a loud
voice. When he yelled, "Sidey," it echoed
through the whole room. "Come up here and
explain this sentence to me. I cannot make
heads or tail of it." And you would have to
walk that long walk from the back up to the
desk and talk to Fred. And, yet, at our
famous office parties, Fred was the leader of
the glee club and the biggest partier among
us. Actually, he loved all those people that
worked for him. And then, the reporters,
those of us who were single, would assemble
at the bar behind the World-Herald Building
and gripe about the management and mumble
about joining the union - and we never did.
But, it was a fun time.
We had a reunion of old-timers in Omaha a few
years ago. We had a whole afternoon of
telling stories about Fred Ware. I will tell
you one. This reporter, he was continually
fighting with Fred. He had been castigated
for some minor, or no, reason that day
because Fred Ware, an ardent gardener, had a
pet garter snake that patrolled his garden
and kept the bugs out. And the snake had
disappeared or died. It was a sad day and he
was taking it out on the reporters. So, this
guy was on his way out to a story, but heard
about the sad day that Fred was having. On
his way back, he saw a snake crossing the
road on the pavement. So, he jumped out of
the car, grabbed an old flashbulb container,
scooped up the snake, and stuffed it in this
box, and took it on back to the office. When
he had his chance, when Fred was away from
his desk, he put the box with the snake in it
on Fred's desk. He was waiting, then, for the
big explosion because Fred liked to do big
explosions. Instead, Fred came in, opened the
box, looked at it awhile, and then he started
looking around. And he could figure out,
pretty much, who would pull a gag like that.
He spotted his man and called him up front.
The explosion never came. Was it Jim Denny?
He said, "Jim, that is the nicest thing
anybody ever did for me. Thank you so much."
Denny was just as deflated as could be. No
big explosion. But, Fred was sincere. He
thought it was really a gift. --
Section 4:
Q: Can you tell us about some of
the slang you remember, from the earlier
days?
A: Those terms that I used, like "hell box."
Q: You called the women, what?
A: A "sob sister." Well, that was because,
mostly, a lot of the stuff she had to write
was stories about the dead child, or the
woman bereaved, or the family wiped out in
the accident. We are still doing those kind
of stories. You look at television. Have you
noticed how the camera loves to see people
cry? And if you can just get a lens in there
to get that tear trickling down, well, that
is big journalism, I guess.
Q: Terms like "thirty lede."
A: A lot of them were measurement terms. You
thought in picas instead of inches. The
ten-points, the type sizes. We still use them
in a way, but they have kind have gone
by-the-board. On your Macs, when you set
display type, you still use point size like
ten point and twelve point.
Q: We use pixels, too. You
wouldn't know what that is. [laughs]
A: I wouldn't know what that is. Best I
didn't. But, the whole vocabulary...the
printing craft, you know, goes way back to
Gutenberg. And those terms, I suppose, grew
up with the printers. A great tradition and a
great spreader of knowledge in the printing
trade was the tramp printer. And, we had
Shorty, among others. Tramp printers usually
had a drinking problem, so they couldn't stay
around too long. But they were always kind of
on the road and, between bouts, they would
find a job. If they were good, why, they
really could help you. Shorty came back year
after year after year. He would do fine for
about two months or three. Then he would fall
off the wagon and disappear and we wouldn't
know where he was or anything. But he used to
leave behind his home-made contraptions that
helped the job. And some of them worked and
some of them didn't. But he would pick up
ideas in one shop and then cobble it up and
try it on the press in the next shop. It
wasn't a bad system because he could tell you
about the way somebody did the job. Not just
the pieces of machinery that they worked on.
"Here is an easier way to do this, boys."
Shorty left his mark on our shop in
the...when I came back to Greenfield, we were
printing on a flatbed Miehle. We didn't even
have the Goss Comet yet, so we were printing
from sheets four pages big. Two and two. And
then we would turn them over and run them
through again for the other side. That was a
hand-fed press. We didn't have a feeder on
it. And then, on the final run, the second
side of the four-page sheet, we attached an
Omaha folder, which is a...well, it was a
marvelous contraption when it worked. A
folder that would take that sheet and run it
through in a system of tapes and knives and
put a fold in here and down through rollers
into another and so on and so forth. It
folded it about four times coming out in that
size of paper. We were always fighting that
thing and cussing it, but when it worked, it
sure saved a lot of time because, before
that, they were hand folding those big
sheets. My dad was a genius in keeping that
folder running. In fact, he was about the
only one that could do it and had the
patience. Because these tapes would jump off
the pulleys and get tangled up in the rollers
and things like that.
Q: Do you still have some of your
old equipment?
A: No. It is about all gone. When we decided,
a year ago, to print at Creston on a regular
press, we started selling it. About
everything is gone. We have one little
hand-fed job press that we will probably keep
as a memento of the old days.
Q: You sold it as antiques?
A: Some of it went to the scrap dealer.
Printing presses were wonderful because they
were massive and the steel was first-rate.
When all the shops in Iowa went offset and
there was a surplus of that stuff, there was
just more antique machinery than the antique
lovers could deal with. And it was kind of a
sad moment when some of that went out the
door. But you can only live with so much
antique. Part of Iowa's trouble is, you know,
we have got huge amounts of buildings that
were built in the 1880s, 1890s, and 1900.
Great time of expansion in the state. Now,
all those buildings are aging. And all of our
antique lovers are trying to save all these
buildings. And we have got them in
Greenfield. "We have got to do something to
save the Opera House. We have got to do
something to save the old library building.
We have got to do something to save that old
hardware store on the corner." Well, there
is only so much that we can save and we had
better make choices and start tearing down. --
Section 5:
Q: How is the make-up of your
community changed? Do you have minorities in
your community? And, if you do, how do you
handle that in your newspaper somehow?
A: No, we don't have a great influx of
minorities. We have the Vietnamese family,
the Cam family, that we adopted. They are all
integrated. Their kids play basketball and
get their names in the paper just like the
other kids. We have no big packing house that
would draw the Mexican workers that some
towns have. So, what's left is all of us old
immigrants from a hundred years ago.
Q: Speaking of old, you have an
aging population in small cities. That,
obviously, affects the circulation of your
newspaper. Can you talk a little bit about
that?
A: We do have a high percentage of elderly
and they are the best readers we've got. Boy,
when their paper doesn't get there, we hear
about it. That is the high point of the day.
I drop a bundle of papers off at the Good
Samaritan Nursing Home in Fontanelle and
those folks are up there waiting at the door
sometimes. I don't know, when it comes to
readers, it is hard to beat that type of
reader. Whether that will hold up when I am
in the nursing home and I will still be
reading, I don't know.
Q: Are you replacing the readers
that you lose?
A: Well, we hope so and I think so. I have
noticed...I wondered about this ten, twenty,
thirty years ago. Whether those kids of
thirty years ago would read, because they
sure didn't when they were kids. They didn't
read for fun. They could do an assignment
when they had homework to do and that sort of
thing, but they sure didn't read for fun.
But, now I have seen those kids my son's age
have got kids in school, and suddenly they
are interested in the school board minutes.
And they hadn't been until that time. I will
bet you when they pay their taxes, they get
antsy about the city council. So, I think
there is an audience there yet. You read what
you want to read or what you're interested in
and your interests change.
Q: What is the circulation of your
paper? And has it gone up or down?
A: We have dropped some. It's about 2900. But
it has held pretty steady. At the peak of our
circulation, and that was probably about when
I came back to Greenfield, we were up around
3300, 3400. But we have lost a tremendous
number of farmers in Adair County. The
population of the county has gone from 12,000
down to 8,000. The town has held more-or-less
steady at 2000 people. We feel we are lucky
to have held at 2900. But, we send a lot of
papers out of state, too. They are the people
who have gone out to California and lived
there twenty years and still want to get the
Greenfield news, so they take our paper. And
we've raised subscription rates unmercifully
on those rich Californians and they take it.
[laughs] And I think we'll jack it up again
next year. [laughs] --
Section 6:
Q: You mentioned when you worked
in Omaha, you would gather and mumble about
joining the union, but you never did. Why
didn't you?
A: I don't know. It was more fun to gripe
[laughs] than to really get involved in union
affairs. We weren't that bad off,
salary-wise. We thought we were, but gee
whiz, I saved money when I was in Omaha and
we came to Greenfield and I had some money
saved to start building a house. I think we
knew that life wasn't all that bad. We didn't
see any great benefit from the union. It was
mostly, the editorial policy of the
World-Herald at that time was terribly
conservative. Old Henry Doorly just dominated
that editorial page. We are talking something
like Col. McCormick in the Chicago Tribune.
And we objected to that more than the actual
pay or wage or working conditions. That sort
of thing.
Q: Was there ever a time, after you became
the publisher and you had this heavy work
schedule and were running day and night, that
you wanted to get out of it and do something
else?
A: No. I wanted a vacation, but I never
thought of getting out of it. In that heavy
schedule time, there were times when we
didn't have any reporting help, I was the
reporter for Greenfield and that meant a lot
of long hours. And all I craved then was just
one week. To miss a press day, I figured,
would be the ultimate luxury. And we finally
missed a press day when I married Linda.
[laughs] We had the wedding in northern
Minnesota where her mother has a cabin and I
missed a whole press day.
Q: Where was that in northern Minnesota?
A: Longville. Actually, it was Cross Lake at
that time. She changed. But we did it up in
Minnesota.
Q: Any more questions.
Q: About offset type, how does that differ
from linotype? You are talking to a printer
dummy.
A: I don't think that is a dumb question at
all. The linotype is a raised letter type.
And, if you see in the linotype slug, you
actually can read that line except it is a
mirror image, so you read it backwards.
Upside down and backwards. The next big step
in composition from linotype came with photo
composition and we had machines called
compugraphic machines that set, with a beam
of light through a film type of letter, which
set a line of type on a photographic paper.
And that was in correct printing order. Then,
that was burned unto an aluminum plate. So,
it was a photographic image on the plate. Do
you understand how offset works? The basic
principle of offset printing? It is based on
the fact that oil and water do not mix. That
simple, scientific principle. The ink is an
oil-based ink. There is a fountain solution
is water-based. The fountain solution dampens
the plate and then the plate comes around on
the ink roller and the ink roller puts the
ink down only where the photographic image
has affected the surface of the plate. It
rejects the ink in the rest of it. And that,
in turn, transfers to a...they call it a
plate roller. It is another roller in the
whole chain of rollers that, in turn, puts
that image on the plate. So, the offsetting
is that extra roller that goes from the plate
to roller and then to paper. Well, actually,
the big cylinder that takes the ink, puts it
on the paper, the...make sure I get this
right - if you were to print a stack of
papers and you got one kind of bleeding
through on the back from the one below, it
would be called offsetting. That is where
that word comes form. Anyway, it is a
photographic process. Oil and water don't
mix. And the whole thing works, but it will
drive you up the wall when you first try to
do it. When we got our first offset press,
and it was just a marvelous piece of
machinery, but if you get the water too
heavy, the ink doesn't work right. If you get
the ink too heavy, it smudges. The balance
has to be precise and very hair trigger. And
I admire those pressmen immensely that can
master that.
Q: What is better in your mind, the linotype
or the offset?
A: I think the old letterpress method was
better for a kind of poorly trained, country
printer-type craftsman. But, our problem with
that, I was one of the last ones to switch to
offset, there were many advantages, really,
to offset printing. You get beautiful do on
the pictures. You can get very crisp blacks
compared with the letterpress type. And it's
faster and you don't carry heavy forms of
lead around and you don't have accidents like
dumping the thing in the pit. There are lots
of advantages. But, oh my, that offset method
uses paper. You start up the press, and to
get the water and the ink just right, you
have got to run it up to at least half-speed.
Our Goss Comet printed 16,000 an hour, so
that means, if we were going to run it up, we
were doing 8,000 an hour and we didn't have
it right yet. So, not one usable paper and
they are coming off the pile. The pressmen
are stuffing...throwing them out into the
trash barrel. And I am paying for all that
paper [laughs] at five hundred dollars a ton
or whatever it was at that time. It was very
wasteful and still is. It is still printed
that way, but they can do beautiful work when
everything works. And, now they do color.
Four color. --
Section 7:
Q. What advice would you give to
aspiring journalists about the business of
journalism, or the craft of journalism.
A: Well, I just love the profession and I am
glad to see that you guys are considering it
anyway.
A: ...Iowa, of all places and the...it is a
great place to raise a family. My
grandchildren ride to school on their bikes
and they ride home. We never lock the doors.
As a matter of fact, I don't even know where
my house key is. I haven't seen it since we
moved in. And, we don't worry about things
that they do in the cities.
Q: Would you talk about the
tremendous changes in the layout and the
make-up. The use of color, for example. I
have seen a number of country newspapers now,
in the last week, and there doesn't seem to
be much change in them in that respect. They
seem to be like they were when I looked at
them twenty years ago. Thirty years ago. Have
you ever thought about changing the image of
the paper?
A: My son has done a little of that. I don't
think much of his front page make-up frankly.
My thought is that I like a newspaper, as
Donald Kaul once said, "I like my newspapers
long and gray." I still think the New York
Times is the best newspaper in the world. We
get the Sunday Times. I just marvel at the
job they do. They really cover the news. And
that nice, single column, make-up looks good
to me. I don't know. Even the New York Times
is using color now. I was horrified, but I
will still read it because they really cover
the news. I don't think that color is
justified in my size paper except now and
then as a special kind of a gimmick or a
promotion. I know there are papers my size
that are fooling around with four-color
pictures, news photos, and it can be done on
the Macintosh now. Those separations aren't
too expensive. If you have got the press and
pressman that can handle the registry, and I
think we do at our printer, we could do a
little fooling around. But it just isn't
worth the time and trouble as I can see it. I
would rather have more pictures in black and
white of the snowstorm or the whatever than
use one color picture of it. It kind of tells
the same story. But, probably the neglected
area of newspapers right now, I think, is
maybe the headline writing and the page
layout. We, I think, are probably doing the
last step in a slap-dash manner. "Let's just
throw the thing together and get it out of
here." Linda does a lot of that paste-up and
I don't quarrel with her in the way she does
it. But she doesn't have enough time, really,
to lay things out. Now you can do that on the
Macintosh, I guess. And some are getting into
pagination so you can put your stories where
you want them and spread the heads. But once
the reader gets used to a look or a
newspaper, they pretty well tell you, "Don't
change it." When we went offset, that's what
they told me. "Don't change the look of the
Free Press. I hope you don't screw things up,
Ed, when you do this." It is kind of like,
you get used to the faces of friends. You are
used to them and you don't want them showing
up with green hair or doing funny things with
make-up.
Q: Has an advertiser ever pulled
his advertisement out of your paper and, if
so, why?
A: Yeah, we've had some. I am trying to think
of a specific case, but none come to mind
right off hand. I think we have had some that
have pulled advertising over editorial
policy. Not too many. Most of the excuses we
have got are, "Business is lousy and I can't
afford it." Or, things like that. And we say,
"But business would be better if you
advertised." An advertising budget is an easy
thing to cut if times are tough. What about
your experiences on ads? Did anybody just
blow up and get mad at us?
Q: They try to control it a little bit.
A: Yeah, I know they do.
Q: "Will this be in the paper this week? Are
you going to cover that?" That's always
something. --
Section 8:
Q: I have got a question about those five
minutes when you and Hugh decided who was
going to go to Time, or who was going to go
to Washington, and who was going to go back
there.
A: Well, I never had an offer from Time.
Q: Who was going to take over the Greenfield
paper. Your brother probably makes twenty
times as much as you.
A: I have never been able to pin down what
his salary is. [laughs]
Q: Twenty thousand for a family income. And I
am sort of computing what your brother
probably makes. And he was on a first-name
basis with every President since 1956. He
really has been one of the premiere
journalists of our time, of our generation.
A: I think so.
Q: Any regrets that Hugh didn't take over
your father's business?
A: No. I often wonder what he would have done
with paper. How much he would have improved
it or hurt it. I admire what he has done and
that sure is a glamorous life. You are right.
He is the one reporter that I know of in all
of Washington that went swimming with John
Kennedy nude in the White House pool. He was
that close a friend.
Q: Seymour Hersh's book. I don't know if you
have read The Dark Side of Camelot. And he
also accompanied Nixon to China. But, any
regrets? Is there any envy? Is there any
sense of "Hugh is having all the fun while I
am doing all the work."
A: No. And he has helped the paper
tremendously. Not just in moral support, but
financially. Our Macintosh system was a
surprise present from Hugh one spring
morning. He had connived to set up with the
dealer. I had told him that I was looking
into the next generation of typesetting
equipment. This compugraphic, photo-type
setting and stuff was on the way out. So, he
contacted Mike Lyons and got Mike to order a
full package of the Macintosh and printer and
all that stuff, I don't even know all the
names yet of some of the things we needed,
and have it sent there. Mike called me and
said, "I am on my way through Greenfield down
to, I forget the town that he said he was
going to, to do a demonstration. I would like
to stop in your shop on the way and just show
you what this Macintosh typesetting equipment
can do for you." I said, "Mike, I am not
ready to do that. I can't afford it. It will
be a year or two before I can even talk to
you about buying that stuff." "No, no," he
said. "You have got to see it now." So, he
came in. I came to work and he had these
stacks of boxes all over the place. All these
typesetting things set up and running. And, I
said, "Mike, you have gone to an awful lot of
trouble for nothing. You have got another
show to do here down the road. Why did you do
all this work?" He said, "Ed, it's yours."
And he handed me the bill of sale for all
that stuff. And Hugh had paid for it.
Another thing, the car. I had said something
on the phone when we were talking. I had been
having trouble with my old Mercury station
wagon. I said, "I hope the darn thing holds
together for another year or two. I am going
to have to buy a new wagon. We have got to
have a wagon to haul all those papers around
and they are so expensive. But, that Mercury
has been a real good car for all these
years." That is all that was said. We got a
phone call from the car dealer, Dick Weller.
He said, "Ed, I need you over here. We are
going to do an ad and I need a tall man to
stand beside this car and show how he can fit
into that driver's seat." I said, "Oh, Dick.
Get somebody else. I am busy." "No, Linda
wants to do this and she is going to be over
here to take the picture for me. You can just
run across the street and we will be done."
So, I said, "OK." And I went over there. I
got into the car and I did the pose. I am on
the roof and all this stuff. Then he said,
"OK, Ed. You have done well. Now, here is the
car." I said, "What?" He said, "This is the
key to the car. The registration is all paid.
The license is done. Drive it." And he and
Hugh had set this all up and gave it to the
Free Press. So, we have a rather unusual
brother relationship here. But it is fun. And
I don't feel a bit jealous. He has earned, I
think, the salary because of the hours and
the days and the weeks, even, that he was
away from home. And those trips. I really
believe him when he says that all that flying
and airline miles gets very, very tiresome.
And he has had to do a tremendous amount of
it. Now, he is more-or-less completely
retired and I don't think he is going to do
that book because you do burn out after a
while in the writing business. At least, you
need a re-charge. Maybe he will need a year
or two of re-charge. And I may jump in and do
that book while he is...[laughs]
Q: I want to thank you very, very much.
A: Thanks to you folks.
