In the reporting business, you’re only as good as your editor.
Case in point: Last Saturday’s Iowa Straw Poll in Ames revealed a practice all too common in journalism, namely, writing a story before it happened, leaving space, or more accurately XXXs, where names or numbers are to be filled in after the event actually transpires.
The initial Associated Press article transmitted across the wire to news outlets contained the following paragraphs:
“Saturday’s outcome suggests that XXX has a certain level of support and, perhaps even more important, the strongest get-out-the-vote operation and widest volunteer base in a state whose caucuses require those elements.”[...]
“Despite Perry’s best efforts to overshadow the day, the epicenter of the presidential contest was in this Midwestern town, where XXXX Iowans cast ballots during a daylong political festival, a late-summer ritual held every four years.”
Obviously someone was asleep at the copy desk when the first draft sailed through. It reminded me of an incident in Shelton, Conn., back in the early 1970s when a colleague at the New Haven Register covered one of the city’s political meetings.
Shelton’s Republican Party had a boisterous offshoot known as the Little Elephants Republican Club. He attended one of its contentious night meetings and included a quote from its leader in a story transmitted by Scan-a-Tron machine from our Ansonia bureau to the copy desk in New Haven. The quote did not make any sense to the reporter, but it was colorful and conveyed the political sophistication, or lack thereof, of the speaker.
To be on the safe side, the reporter chose to alert the night editor to the wackiness of the remark by adding the following in parenthesis after the quote: “I don’t know what the f*** it means, but that’s what he said.” (For the record, he did not use f***, preferring the common spelling of the expletive.)
No doubt you’ve guessed what happened. The night editor never saw the parenthetical note, until it was in print. Like I said, you’re only as good as your editor.
P.S. This being a one-person operation, I edit my own writing. Not the best arrangement for error-free copy, but considering what you're all paying for these missives, you're getting a real steal.
Unhappy Birthday: Jorge Posada did not take my advice and retire after his gonzo day Saturday when he batted in six runs highlighted by a grand slam home run.
For an encore, against the Kansas City Royals last night, Posada came to bat in the ninth inning with the bases loaded, two outs, the Yankees trailing by one run. The karma was positively electric. It was, after all, the night of Posada’s fortieth birthday, an opportunity to demonstratively show the world he is on the sunnier, not the darker, side of 40.
Without taking the bat off his shoulder—shades of Carlos Beltran (sorry, couldn’t resist, Mets fans)—Posada ended the game by striking out looking.
Baseball and Felafel? "Baseball and Ballantine" was a memorable slogan of my childhood allegiance to the NY Yankees. Knowing my interest in baseball, my friend Milton sent along links to Israel’s participation in the European Championship tournament. The articles featured the exploits of his cousin Shlomo, a 32-year-old Israeli who currently lives in New York but traveled back to his native land for the just concluded regional playoffs.
Those interested in the development of baseball in Israel may find the articles entertaining:
First article: http://www.haaretz.com/print-edition/sports/baseball-profile-serving-wine-with-a-curveball-1.375264
Last game: http://www.haaretz.com/print-edition/sports/baseball-european-championship-israel-bows-out-against-britain-1.376123
Showing posts with label Shelton Conn.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shelton Conn.. Show all posts
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
This Is Bizarre
It's hard to believe, but the intertwining of my life with news ripped from the headlines continues...
It turns out the suspect arrested in connection with the attempted Times Square car bombing lived for three years in Shelton, Conn.!!!!
How bizarre is that!?!
Faisal Shahzad, 30, a naturalized United States citizen from Pakistan, lived for three years at 119 Long Hill Avenue, not even a mile from the site of the former Sponge Rubber Products Co. Plant 4 blown up 35 years ago.
It turns out the suspect arrested in connection with the attempted Times Square car bombing lived for three years in Shelton, Conn.!!!!
How bizarre is that!?!
Faisal Shahzad, 30, a naturalized United States citizen from Pakistan, lived for three years at 119 Long Hill Avenue, not even a mile from the site of the former Sponge Rubber Products Co. Plant 4 blown up 35 years ago.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Saturday Night Bombings
The botched blowup in Times Square over the weekend brought back memories of a different Saturday night bombing 35 years ago.
Gilda and I were living in Seymour, Conn. I was a reporter for The New Haven Register. The nearby city of Shelton was my beat.
We had just settled into bed when the phone rang shortly after 11:35 pm., March 1, 1975. My boss was calling, asking why I was going to sleep when half of downtown Shelton was on the verge of being wiped off the face of the earth. Bombs had exploded inside the 475,000-sq.ft. Shelton Sponge Rubber Products Co. Plant 4 along the Housatonic River. It was, and possibly still is, the largest case of industrial arson in the United States.
I quickly dressed and drove the several miles to Shelton. Firemen and equipment, most from volunteer fire departments, converged on Canal Street from more than 20 neighboring towns. As the two-city-block-long factory burnt to a crisp shell, rumors started circulating. It was the work of radical Weathermen, it was said. Turned out the arsonists had kidnapped three plant employees and while tying them up safely in a woods in an adjoining town, one said they were part of the Weather Underground. It didn’t make sense. The plant was not vital to the Vietnam War effort. It made pillows and mattresses and other foam rubber products. But the reference to the Weathermen brought the FBI into the investigatory mix.
Within days authorities traced the suspects to a rented yellow Ryder van used to transport 500 pounds of dynamite and 24 55-gallon drums of gasoline into the factory. Among the 10 arrested were Charles D. Moeller, president of the company, and David D. Bubar, a Baptist minister and self-proclaimed psychic who counseled Moeller. The government alleged Moeller’s purchase of the plant from B.F. Goodrich the year before had financially strapped him. To relieve the burden, Moeller, under Bubar’s influence, had financed the arson, it was charged.
Moeller twice beat the rap, in federal and state court, though a civil trial found him responsible (much like the OJ Simpson situation), thus absolving his insurance company from any requirement to pay $68 million in damages on the building and its contents. Bubar, on the other hand, was found guilty of second degree arson. He served six and one-half years of a 20-year sentence. Seven other defendants also served time. The tenth was acquitted.
As spectacular as the fire was, the real tragedy of that night 35 years ago was the impact it had on the lives of the plant’s 900 workers and their families. The business never came back. The site was turned into a park. Other plants along the river either closed down or relocated. From being a once vibrant factory town, Shelton has evolved into a bedroom community for New Haven, Bridgeport and even New York, where another vehicle, an SUV, might prove vital in revealing who was behind the attempt to blow a hole in the middle of the crossroads of the world.
Gilda and I were living in Seymour, Conn. I was a reporter for The New Haven Register. The nearby city of Shelton was my beat.
We had just settled into bed when the phone rang shortly after 11:35 pm., March 1, 1975. My boss was calling, asking why I was going to sleep when half of downtown Shelton was on the verge of being wiped off the face of the earth. Bombs had exploded inside the 475,000-sq.ft. Shelton Sponge Rubber Products Co. Plant 4 along the Housatonic River. It was, and possibly still is, the largest case of industrial arson in the United States.
I quickly dressed and drove the several miles to Shelton. Firemen and equipment, most from volunteer fire departments, converged on Canal Street from more than 20 neighboring towns. As the two-city-block-long factory burnt to a crisp shell, rumors started circulating. It was the work of radical Weathermen, it was said. Turned out the arsonists had kidnapped three plant employees and while tying them up safely in a woods in an adjoining town, one said they were part of the Weather Underground. It didn’t make sense. The plant was not vital to the Vietnam War effort. It made pillows and mattresses and other foam rubber products. But the reference to the Weathermen brought the FBI into the investigatory mix.
Within days authorities traced the suspects to a rented yellow Ryder van used to transport 500 pounds of dynamite and 24 55-gallon drums of gasoline into the factory. Among the 10 arrested were Charles D. Moeller, president of the company, and David D. Bubar, a Baptist minister and self-proclaimed psychic who counseled Moeller. The government alleged Moeller’s purchase of the plant from B.F. Goodrich the year before had financially strapped him. To relieve the burden, Moeller, under Bubar’s influence, had financed the arson, it was charged.
Moeller twice beat the rap, in federal and state court, though a civil trial found him responsible (much like the OJ Simpson situation), thus absolving his insurance company from any requirement to pay $68 million in damages on the building and its contents. Bubar, on the other hand, was found guilty of second degree arson. He served six and one-half years of a 20-year sentence. Seven other defendants also served time. The tenth was acquitted.
As spectacular as the fire was, the real tragedy of that night 35 years ago was the impact it had on the lives of the plant’s 900 workers and their families. The business never came back. The site was turned into a park. Other plants along the river either closed down or relocated. From being a once vibrant factory town, Shelton has evolved into a bedroom community for New Haven, Bridgeport and even New York, where another vehicle, an SUV, might prove vital in revealing who was behind the attempt to blow a hole in the middle of the crossroads of the world.
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