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Dedicated to my wife Hazel who is my Editor
Chapter 1 A Story at Last
Struggling to get some journalistic training was tough, but it was even harder to get a job at the local newspaper, and the best our writer friend could find was a copy boy position.
In those days being a copy boy was the bottom of the totem pole so to speak. He was at the beck and call of everyone, the gofer, the “Have him do it” guy.
As he would read the paper each day he could just envision his name on the by line of each story and off he would go in his own fantasy land. The editor was a tolerant man, as tolerant as an editor can be which isn't saying much.
When he was in the editor’s presence he would hint that he would like to write something for the paper.
For the most part his words fell on deaf ears, for running a newspaper entailed everything from deadlines to legal problems to the actual equipment that did the printing. But the copy boy persevered with patience, and did his job very well even though he received little or no praise for doing a good job. Complements were in short supply in the newspaper business.
Over time the editor did notice his dedication to his job and called him into his office one day and asked if he would like to do a story with the understanding it probably wouldn't be published.
He was ecstatic and pledged he would do a workman like job. The editor tried to squash his enthusiasm enough to give him his assignment which was to spend the night at the maternity department of the local hospital and develop a story about the new mothers and fathers.
He assured the editor that it would be no problem and he could handle it.
As he left the editors office he declared to himself; "I am now a cub reporter" and no longer a copy boy. Then it struck him “How do I do this?”
Sheepishly he decided to approach one of the less gruff reporters and ask him the best way to do this.
Amid his snarls and contemptuous laughter the old reporter laid out the first steps for him. “The first thing you need to do is get a press pass so you will look official and then contact the department head and tell them you want to do a story about their branch of the hospital services and then go from there.
So it was after answering a multitude of questions the hospital gave their consent but wanted to first meet him and to lay down some ground rules.
At the appointed time, he met with them they gave him a time set for his night at the maternity ward, and they also gave him a list of the dos and don'ts for being there.
When they questioned the fact he looked so young he assured he had been doing this for a long time.
Since he was going to stay up all night he was let off from his job at noon to get some rest. As he lay in bed he couldn't sleep, he could only think about his new adventure.
His appointment was at six thirty but he showed up at five and had to wait till six when he was allowed to proceed to the maternity area.
Inwardly he thought about the two "P s" Perseverance and Patience for they had prevailed at last.
Chapter 2 A Plan of Action
Having arrived early he sat in his 1946 Ford car, that he was making two payments on each month. One was the car payment itself and the other was the cost of repairs to keeping it running.
He laid out his plan of action; first he would position himself where he could see everything that was going on and collar the people for an interview, as they checked in.
He discarded this plan after the outset of 10 minutes for the first couple that came in was on the verge of giving birth and the woman was in great discomfort. They disappeared into the delivery room and he was left standing somewhat dismayed.
Wow! He thought, “She couldn't be in that much pain.” He had his note book in his hand and felt foolish just standing there alone in the hallway so he ventured into the father’s waiting room.
He thought to himself, “Well, here I have a captive audience,” and he could flesh out his story from the father's viewpoint.
“Which one should I tackle first?” he thought. Some of the soon to be dads were pacing back and forth and didn't appear to want to engage in conversation so he decided to wait until they settled down.
There was one man about forty, who looked to be calm so he ventured over and tried to start a conversation. After some niceties about the weather he asked if this was his first child to which the man said no, it was his seventh. The writers mind went blank for a minute because he thought, “Who has seven children in this day and age?”
As he turned back to the man to question him further the man had fallen asleep and was snoring. Seems he was willing to let nature take its course without him worrying about it.
As the writer settled back in his chair he knew his editor would expect much more than a story about a man with seven children who was snoring to fill a column so he ventured back out where the head nurse was.
He wasn't getting desperate yet, but he knew he had to get something from a human interest viewpoint, but he wasn't sure how to do it.
About this time he had a brilliant idea. He sidled up to the head nurse but when he saw the stern look on her face he froze for a moment.
She gruffly said; “And what do you want?” He started to say; nothing but the vision of the editors displeased face came before him and he snapped out of it and said, “Do you think I could go in the delivery room and witness the whole birth process first hand because that way it would be a true story of what the hospital does in the maternity wing of the hospital?”
She, without changing the severe look on her face said; “I'll see what I can do.”
The writer thought “What have I gotten into now?”
Then the two "P s" Perseverance and Prayer came to mind and he hoped they would prevail.