Stopping the Presses powerfully reminds us that labor history is multifaceted: the narratives we know and remember depend to a large degree on who has the power to tell any given story. I very much admire the skills, discipline, and drive that allow her to seek the truth and, in the process, reconnect her own adult life and work to the story of her family and the memories of her childhood. Very little history is written with true rigor and true passion, but Stopping the Presses is a product of both these great virtues.
Woodbury depicts her crusading muckraker of a father as an idealist who rallied against corruption and too-chummy links between crooks and politicos in a one-man crusade that eventually cost him his life.
Gangsters shot him dead in front of his family in a Minneapolis alley. This is much much more than a crime book or a tearful memoir. Stopping the Presses places this dramatic story within its important political and historic context, and it challenges the long dominant images of Governor Olson and is political allies.
It also argues-passionately-that Walter Liggett be accorded recognition as a progressive and courageous figure in Minnesota politics. In the end, this book forces its readers to rethink the nature of those politics and the legacy they have left for us.
We all should have children so devoted to the honor of their departed parents as Marda Liggett Woodbury. She has managed, in telling the story of her father, to rehabilitate an honest man maligned before and after his death by people who falsely claimed to be making the world a better place.
Marda Woodbury offers a fond memoir of a very interesting couple and their life in radical, grub-street journalism. Their kind of journalism hardly exists anymore, but for decades it was a major force in American politics.
Historians of American journalism will profit enormously from reading this book. Tracing the life and journalistic career of her father, Walter W. Liggett, Woodbury presents a vivid and accurate picture of the time in which he lived and worked, the era of gangsters and Prohibition, when organized crime syndicates co-existed with machine politics in cities like New York, Chicago-and even Minneapolis. Prairie Activist We need to stop the presses.
In a wildly optimistic promise, I assured them that we would close the newspaper no later than a. They stopped production of the newspaper and ordered an additional , copies to be printed nationwide. At College Point, where our first city edition had already been running, the presses ground to a halt and 7, copies that had been printed were destroyed. In New York and Washington, editors, reporters, photographers, graphics artists, web producers, video producers and others were in full swing.
Mitchell said she counted journalists involved in the coverage that night, as opposed to our usual skeletal staff on a late Sunday night. All six of the articles on the front page of paper were moved inside, and a new front page with only bin Laden coverage was being designed on the fly by Kyle Massey, the premier headline writer at the paper who also drew the page.
Copy editors and page designers from Sports, Metro and other desks were drafted into service to lay out pages, edit stories and write headlines and captions. Reporters and photographers were sent to Times Square, ground zero and the White House to cover spontaneous celebratory demonstrations.
Virtually every page in the A-section, the front section of the paper, was remade as we waited for the president to speak, which he finally did at p. We were done at a. Around the country on Monday morning, 70 percent of the newspapers printed, about , copies, had the latest news. Allan M. Siegal recalled in a recent email. He went on the air about the same time the paper went to press 9 p. Mouths all over the newsroom dropped open when he read those words. The presses were already running, and some copies of the first edition had been printed.
Close presidential elections have also provided unexpected challenges for Times journalists. Tom Jolly, now the associate managing editor in charge of the News Desk, was the late News Desk editor on election night in Everyone knew that the Gore-Bush election was going to be razor close. In fact, Mr.
Jolly was told he would probably have to stay as late as 6 a. One of the more notorious federal penitentiaries in the nation, Leavenworth inspired Grant to found PDI in an effort to bring hope to prisoners and their families nationwide. This is journalism, of a kind that never made it into the curriculum of J-School.
This is the real stuff. I mean, I love, love talking to Hailey. I was kind of in a grouchy mood, since on top of my not seeing Michael, my mom suggested that Allie and I clean out our bedrooms. I like to keep books, newspapers, and magazines.
And she remembers them, too. I love that sweater. Anyway, Mom said a thorough cleaning out of both our rooms was long overdue. I like my room the way it is and I hate change. So you can see the problem. I heard my mom rustling around in her room, so I decided to go and see what she was doing and maybe torture her a little by whining about how bored I was.
But instead of finding her buried in a pile of receipts and bank statements, I caught her looking in a big, flowery hatbox. There were some reasonably interesting items in there, like a hospital bracelet from the time Mom had her appendix removed and a dried corsage from her high school prom.
But to me, the most fascinating thing was a stack of papers—of course! There may have even been some splashes of sauce on a few of the pages. I had Mom cornered. If she said no, she was admitting that they were special and private. It was sooooo middle school. Do you feel the same way? If you do, check yes. If not, check no. I am hopeless!
He just had a crush on me. You know, kind of like you and that Michael Lawrence boy.
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