Each evening (no Sunday editions), at about 11 p.m., the 'Herald' was printed and loaded into trucks, bound for Yarmouth, Amherst and Sydney, and all areas in between.
The Star was printed 12 hours later, and was available on the street for readers on their way to lunch.
During my four months in the newsroom, I received plenty of on-the-job training.
How I got the job in the first place was a mixture of hard work and luck: I was ‘bitten by the writing bug’ at an early age, because I had been read to, and had begun ‘reading’ a newspaper when I was about five years old. I also knew, or thought I knew, what was going on in the world.
All through school, I was good at expressing my ideas, had excellent spelling skills,.
However, most of my experience had been on radio, first on basic radio production / interviewing at St. F.X., with a short stint at news announcing CJCB.
So there I was, the new cub reporter, with my own phone and typewriter,* at my own desk, across the aisle from the editors.
* Generational question: 'Daddy, what is a ’typewriter?'
Five rookies were hired that summer; one, Ralph Surette, still writes a weekly column.
My desk mate, Gordon, who was only a few years older, became an instant ally and friend. He was very patient at explaining policies, procedures and 'tricks of the trade’ right from Day One. I was glad to learn that he later rose in the ranks to become a well-respected senior editor with the company.
I took to the tasks well; began my shift each morning by 7:30 by phoning the Police Stations -- City and RCMP -- for the 'Police blotter’ summary, the Fire Department for their overnight roundups, and then the Weather Office, for the previous day’s figures. The actual forecast was already available from Canadian Press news tele-typewriter.*
(*A noisy printer! )
The Page One Editor, Bill McCall, was always partial to a weather story, so I gradually learned to come up with some ‘angle'! And he woundn't disappoint: my story was often posted on the front page, with my byline!
(Ah, Dear Reader, those were heady days! Some reporters had to toil for quite some time before they got a byline.)
He would sometimes tell young reporters about his career and his first Big Story: the solo flight of Charles Lindbergh across the Atlantic in 1927. (Yes, that was 39 years earlier.)
I worked hard to get all my little stories written and submitted on time.
I was constantly being interrupted by my ringing phone because all general phone calls were routed to my phone by the operators.
After the’ Star' was ’put to bed’ between 10:30 and 11 a.m., it was time to write ’inside’ material for the next ‘Herald' edition. such as … the obituaries. Many seasoned reporters do not look back kindly to their early career when they had had to spend writing ’obits,’ but I actually enjoyed it!
There was a set formula: you took down details from short written outlines or by phone from the local funeral directors; you had to make sure you spell the names correctly; plus you got to learn about some of the amazing feats done by the intrredsting citizens from across the province.
Today, I can turn out an obituary quickly and accurately.
In the afternoons, I also got to transcribe and prepare what were referred to as the ‘bush notes,’ telling of the neighbourly events in the rural towns and villages across the province.
Here, I had mixed feelings: the handwriting from are local ‘correspondents’ was not always legible, the same events and names curiously appeared week after week, but I got an excellent course in place names and geography!
This was not earth-shattering material or coveted assignment, but I was glad to hone my trade.
On all stories, you wrote on a roll of paper, top sheet for the Editor, carbon* copy for Canadian Press (a news co-op which regularly collected ALL copy for their clients, such as radio)_ along with a second carbon copy for your personal file.
(*Another question from the young ones: "Mommy, what’s a ‘carbon?’")
This carbon copy was analyzed by your Supervising Editor and brandished at your 'Weekly Meeting’ to evaluate your quality of fact gathering, accuracy and style.
I never had many problems at these sessions; errors of fact or style were pointed out and discussed very quietly and models were brought out to show good, better reporting.
My biggest gaffe appeared one Saturday morning in the ‘Mail-Star’ in the cutline under a colour photo — the only time each week they printed expensive colour.
Local summer flowers were being shown.
In my defence, You Honour, I state that my knowledge of horticulture and flowers’ names was … er … light, at best. I should have consulted a colleague or book. By the way, none of the copy editors up the line had spotted the error, either!)
There, on that sunny Saturday, — remember, on Page One — a cutline was announcing a colour photo of ... ‘flocks.’
By the time the Editor caught it, the first press run had printed 45,000 copies of the error.!
He didn’t shout or rant, but quietly pointed out that the flower name was ‘phlox.'
I immediately prepared a corrected cutline for the second run (They would stop the presses halfway through each daily run, to change paper, insert updates, etc.).
But the Editor spiked it: the final 45,000 copies that day carried an empty space for the flower name!
I was enjoying my summer job but still had a lot to learn.
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