Monday, June 14, 2010

Journal of the 1950s by George Stout

'50s newsroom full of clattering typewriters and calls for 'Copy!'
Edmonton Journal
Tue Nov 11 2003
Page: C8
Section: A Century On Your Doorstep
Byline: George Stout
Dateline: EDMONTON
Source: The Edmonton Journal

EDMONTON - Halfway through The Journal's first century, in the early 1950s B.C. (Before Computers!), news coverage of Edmonton events was a basic routine. It was performed day after day, just as it was the world over and as it had been for decades.

The city editor was in charge of the local news staff, consisting of reporters and photographers assigned to "beats" covering all of the major agencies and departments operating in Edmonton. Separate staff members were assigned to the sports, women's and business sections.

The heart of the daily operation of the newsroom was the "desk"; around it was the "rim," where the "chiefs" sat. In addition to the news editor, Don McDougall, there was the telegraph editor, Homer Ramage, in charge of handling the world news coming over The Canadian Press teletype machines, his assistant, Stan Williams, the city editor (myself) and assistant Norman O'Dell.

The newsroom of those days was a noisy place, filled with the clatter of ancient Underwood and Remington manual typewriters as reporters came in from their beats and wrote up the news stories they had picked up on their rounds.

The dean of long-service reporters in those days, Tom Mansell, would peck out the latest moves of the provincial Social Credit government. Ace police reporter Eddie Keen would detail the latest from the crime and traffic fronts, and Ron Hayter would bring in the word from City Hall, the mayor and council.

It was in the '50s that a young Bill Newbigging joined the staff as a "cub reporter." He learned the trade so well he later became publisher.

As deadlines neared, cries of "Copy!" added to the din as copy boys hurried from reporters' desks with the first "takes" of their stories for the first edition. As city desk received them, editors would check them, write appropriate headlines and "catchlines" to identify the story, then send the copy by pneumatic tubes to the third-floor composing room to be set into type.

As the day progressed, the editors conferred on the major stories of the day, their placement and "play." Charts -- called "dummies" -- of Page 1 and the page for local news would go up to the composing room for the makeup men to place the columns of type into the page forms.

In the meantime, as type was "set" on the linotype machines, it would be placed in a metal tray, inked, and a "gallery proof" printed. It and the original copy were sent down to the proofroom adjacent to the newsroom. There, a group of proof readers would scan it for errors and return it to the composing room for correction before the type went into the page form. A second corrected proof was sent down for recheck. In more recent times, with the advent of computers and spell-check, proofreaders were deemed redundant and eliminated for a time, but as their value was appreciated, they have returned.

As press time approached, telegraph and city editors would go up to the composing room to supervise the story placement in their pages. It was there that the skill of reading type backwards was learned!

For most of its century, The Journal was an afternoon paper -- it's only since the '80s that it has been a morning publication. In the '50s the staff worked basically morning and afternoon, with night assignments to cover evening meetings or events. Thus the desk crew would await the first edition coming up from the press room about 11 a.m. Revisions and late-breaking stories would be added for the home edition. The morning edition was timed to catch trains and buses to district points and also for street sales.

Until the end of the '50s, the process of getting the flat forms of type onto the giant rotary press in the basement required massive pressures. First, a large, soft matrix had to be embossed by forcing it down onto the type. Then this "matt" was baked hard, inserted into a half-cylinder form and molten metal extruded into it to make plates to fit onto the letterpress for printing.

As the giant rolls of newsprint paper roared through the maze of plates, they were trimmed "on the fly" and passed into the folder to emerge as the daily papers ready for the readers.

By the early 1960s, the hot metal days began to give way to modern advances.

Now as pages are made up in the quieter facilities in the Journal building downtown on 101st Street, they are transmitted to the printing plant at Eastgate, where the large offset press does a superb job, particularly with the quality of photographs.

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