SPECIAL TYPES OF STORIES
The test of the news value of an event is its element of
novelty. Whether news shall be the record of things admirable
or things disgraceful practically depends on the community. In
the early days of Dodge City, Kan., or Leadville, Colo., the
information that Cherokee Jake or San Juan Bill had attended
church would have been news. But in these communities at the
present day the weekly presence of many citizens of equal or
greater prominence has no news value. In which city would the
rabbi rather live, the one where church attendance has news
value, or the one where it has none?--From an editorial in the
St. Louis _Republic_, replying to a critic of the daily press.
While every news story, in the nature of the case, presents its own
problem, the news writer soon finds that in all the stories on the same
basic theme, as those dealing with fires, certain definite points must
be covered. It is impossible, of course, to provide a set pattern for
any story or group of stories, but a few general instructions will be
found to hold good.
FIRE STORIES
In covering an important fire story, in addition to any special news
features, get the following facts: Exact location; time; cause; names
of owner and occupants of building; losses; insurance.
If possible, see the owner to learn the extent of the damage to the
building; otherwise get the fire chief or some other person who can
speak with authority to estimate the loss.
If persons were killed or injured, or lives were endangered, get all
the details possible. These facts take precedence over all details
concerning property loss. Don’t forget names and addresses. Among the
points to be noted are: Rescues; exits and fire escapes, or absence
of fire escapes; other precautions, or lack of precautions, against
crowding and panic; thrilling, humorous or pathetic incidents;
circumstances affecting the work of the firemen, such as a possible
failure of the water pressure at a critical time.
DEATH STORIES
In death stories give the following: Full name; age; time and place of
death; cause; account of last illness; funeral arrangements; names of
relatives; birthplace; account of business and political life; society
and church connections.
Let your story be simple and dignified, in keeping with the theme.
WEDDING STORIES
In stories of “big” weddings give the following: Full names of the
persons married; their family connections; time and place of wedding;
minister officiating; attendants of all kinds; descriptions of gowns of
bride and attendants (it isn’t necessary to say the bridegroom wore the
“conventional black”); music; decorations; reception; guests from out
of town; presents from organizations and groups of friends; noteworthy
presents from individuals; wedding trip; when and where the couple will
be at home.
CRIME STORIES
In covering a story of murder or suicide, don’t stop with the facts
that appear on the surface--get the motive. When one hears that a
friend has killed himself the first natural inquiry is: Why did he do
it? It is this question that the city editor urges upon the reporter
starting out to cover the story. “Get the motive” is the order,
expressed or implied. If the story does not show the motive, it must
have other marked elements of interest to receive more than a few lines
of space.
It is not within the scope of this book to discuss newspaper ethics
and ideals, except in relation to news writing, but attention may be
called briefly to that phase of the newspaper’s daily problem that has
to do with crime news. Whether or not such news is “featured” depends
altogether on the newspaper’s individual policy; there are no general
standards that fit all cases. A story that one paper cuts to a few
lines or throws away may be “played up” in another to the extent of a
column or more. Any newspaper will give liberal space to a story that
vitally concerns the entire nation or community, such as the attempted
assassination of a public official. Divergence comes in the treatment
of human-interest news. Take for example the story of a shop girl who
kills herself because she has been jilted. Here is a story that may be
developed for its human-interest features, may be dismissed with a bare
statement or may be ignored. The theory is widely accepted that the
publication of a suicide story, especially one that goes into detail,
may implant the suggestion of suicide in persons of morbid mind, or
may lead those who have been thinking of suicide to act. It is largely
for this reason that many newspapers give little space to news of this
character unless it concerns someone of prominence or contains some
unique human-interest feature. Ordinary, routine suicide stories
receive bare mention at the most, and then usually in an inconspicuous
part of the paper. What shall be done with a story is the editor’s
problem. The problem of the reporter is to get the facts and present
them to the best of his ability. And if a suicide story is to be
covered in detail, don’t stop with the obvious--find out the “why” of
it all.
BUSINESS STORIES
In stories dealing with business transactions, especially court
reports, it is particularly important that the reporter get the names
right. “Brown and Co.” may be the name of one corporation and “the
Brown Company” of another. Don’t confuse the two.
Don’t call a firm bankrupt simply because a petition has been filed
asking that it be declared bankrupt. Wait until the case is decided in
court.
In general--and this cannot be stressed too much--remember that the
reporter has power to do irreparable harm by a careless or malicious
statement. An unwarranted aspersion may work an injury that no
subsequent correction can wholly undo. A statement in print is final;
it cannot be amended or softened as can the spoken word. It is part
of the news writer’s plain duty--to himself, his newspaper and the
public--to choose his words carefully, in order that no misconstruction
may be placed upon them. More important still, he should never forget
the obligation that rests upon him to say no thing, directly or by
implication, that can harm an innocent person.
SECOND-DAY STORIES
The second-day story, as the name suggests, relates a development in
a story printed the preceding day, of which it is assumed the reader
has some knowledge. For example, the story of a death, if deemed of
sufficient importance, may be “followed” (as the newspaper vernacular
has it) by an evening contemporary. But while the account first
published begins by telling the fact of the death, the second-day, or
the “follow,” story is brought up to date in the lead with some newer
facts, probably about the funeral arrangements. News ages quickly in
these days of hourly editions, when beats are measured not by days or
hours but by minutes. The news writer aims to give the latest possible
information about his story, and to give it in such a way that the
reader will be impressed with the fact of its newness. An experienced
reporter will never write “yesterday” into the lead of his story when
there is a chance of making “to-day” prominent.
The morning newspaper, which sends its city edition to press at 2 to
3 o’clock in the morning, tells of the events of yesterday. It is the
breakfast-table paper, setting forth the history of the preceding
day. Necessarily the word “yesterday” recurs frequently in its local
columns. The reporter must write his story to conform to the date
of the paper’s issue. Hence, writing for next morning’s paper of
a fire which occurred at 8 P. M., he fixes the time as “8 o’clock
last night”--this form being preferred to “yesterday evening.” “Last
night,” however, is avoided in reference to anything that happens after
midnight, on the day of publication. In such a case, the reporter, with
the conscious purpose of making his news seem as timely as possible,
writes “early this morning” or gives the definite time.
An even greater effort to get “to-day” rather than “yesterday” into
news stories is made by the evening paper, because its special field is
the news of the day on which it is published. Yesterday is dead; its
news has passed into history. Taking up the chronicle where the morning
paper has dropped it, the evening paper, in successive editions,
records the events of the day. First-page stories in early editions may
be ruthlessly cut down or thrown out as more important news develops.
It is not enough to tell what has happened already; the newspaper
must tell what is happening and what is going to happen. News that
appears stale is not wanted. There are so many things of vital interest
happening all the time that the newspaper is not concerned with dead
events, except as they may have a bearing on the present.
The second-day story, then, if it is worth publishing at all, must
have some new feature to bring it up to date. At least it must have
the appearance of newness. It is in giving a story this gloss that
the tricks of the news writer’s trade are called into play. Nowhere
does experience count for more than in writing of a day-old event in
a manner to convey the impression that the news is being told for the
first time. The novice may write vividly of something he has just
seen, but the trained news writer excels in the artifice of what the
newspaper man calls rewriting.
REWRITING
On some evening newspapers a squad of men begin work soon after the
city editions of the morning papers are off the press. Before dawn
these men are on duty, busily preparing copy for the first edition of
the paper, which goes to press before news begins to pour in through
the regular channels. This work is in charge of an assistant city
editor, who paves the way for the city editor. Copies of the morning
papers and a pair of shears are his equipment. Stories that promise
further development during the day he lays aside for the consideration
of the city editor; others that may safely be rewritten and made to
appear as new he deals out to the squad of writers; still others, those
that are dead after one telling, he throws away. Stories that hold the
possibility of a libel suit--or, as the newspaper man says, contain
dynamite--are mentally labeled dangerous and held for investigation--or
the wastebasket.
Now assume that to the rewrite man is handed a clipping telling of
the arrest of a leading citizen for exceeding the speed limit in his
automobile the night before. The citizen gave bond to assure his
appearance in police court the following day. The story fills, say,
half a column in the morning paper. “Cut it to a stick” is the order.
The novice probably would begin by saying that “John Jones, cashier
of the First National Bank, was arrested last night for speeding,”
that being the substance of the lead in the original story. Not so the
rewrite man. His story begins somewhat like this:
On the docket of the First District Police Court this morning
appeared the name of John Jones, cashier of the First National
Bank, charged with exceeding the speed limit in his automobile.
Mr. Jones was arrested last night, etc.
Here the news writer has given his story a new lead without in the
least going beyond the facts. He knows that an arrest for violation of
a city ordinance is followed by arraignment in police court; from the
district in which the arrest was made he knows in what court Mr. Jones
must appear. It is assumed that the writer is an experienced reporter,
acquainted with police procedure in the city in which he works. Later
in the day the lead of the story is changed to tell the disposition
of the case. Nearly all the stories rewritten from other papers are
subject to changes during the day or are thrown out altogether to make
way for later news.
Suppose the story tells of a fire in which persons were killed. The
fire was in a factory, which, contrary to law, was not adequately
equipped with fire escapes. The morning papers told the story in
detail. So far as the facts about the fire are concerned, the story
is old. The rewrite man, drawing on his knowledge of similar events,
begins his story in this manner:
An investigation was begun to-day by Building Commissioner
Smith to fix the responsibility for the loss of ten lives in a
fire which last night destroyed the paper-box factory of Blank
and Company at 1010 Y street.
Then the story tells of the lack of fire escapes on the building and
proceeds to give details about the fire culled from the published
account. In later editions the lead is changed as developments warrant.
On some evening newspapers the rule is to use the name of the day
rather than “to-day,” “yesterday” or “to-morrow.” The paper can then
be dated one day ahead and sent out as a mail edition without the
necessity of changing local stories to conform to the new date line.
SUGGESTIONS FOR HOME OR CLASS-ROOM STUDY
I. Concisely told story of a fire. From the Chicago _Evening Post_:
Lives of firemen were imperiled and a loss estimated at $35,000
was caused early to-day by fire which swept through the three
top floors of a five-story brick building at 2427-31 West
Fourteenth street. These upper floors were occupied by the
Platt-Maschek Company, novelties, of which C. C. Maschek is
president.
The two lower floors are occupied by C. A. Hiles & Co., Inc.,
tool manufacturers. This concern escaped with a slight loss.
Starting supposedly from crossed electric wires on the fifth
floor, the fire broke through the roof and had spread to the
fourth and third floors when it was discovered by Policeman
Thomas Feeney, who was passing. Flames and smoke rolled out
of the fifth floor windows. Feeney pounded on the front doors
of the building and attracted the attention of Edward Claus,
a watchman, who was on the first floor and unaware that the
building was burning.
The two attempted to ascend a stairway to the third floor,
believing that there was another watchman in the novelty
concern, but flames and smoke burst through a door and they
were compelled to retire. Glass in the door was broken by the
heat and Feeney was cut about the face and hands.
A general alarm was sounded and Marshal Horan arrived in his
automobile. He sent in five special calls and took charge of
the many companies of firemen. The heat was intense and firemen
who had mounted the roofs of adjoining structures frequently
were compelled to climb down.
While firemen were still at work on the flames about
twenty-five girls reported for work. It was said they would be
thrown out of work by the fire.
(Notice how the two leading facts in the story are combined in the
opening sentence, the fact that firemen were in peril coming first,
then the property loss. The writer manifestly has taken pains to get
the firm names correct.)
II. Brief news dispatch telling of a death by fire:
NEW YORK, Dec. 12.--Mrs. F. A. Hilliard, 76 years old, a
wealthy widow of Milwaukee, was burned to death early to-day in
her room in the Hotel Bristol. She set fire to her clothing in
attempting to light a candle. Mrs. Hilliard registered at the
hotel Nov. 6. She attracted attention by her eccentricities.
She refused to use either electric light or gas, and insisted
on burning candles in her room.
(All the salient facts are told here in less than seventy-five
words--the who, when, what, where and why of the story. This is the
compressed form in which the story was carried in the news dispatches.
As a local story--that is, published in the city in which it
originated--its human-interest element would justify the giving of more
details--but nothing of a horrible nature. News, unless it is national
in interest, shrinks in importance in proportion to the distance from
the scene of the happening. This rule, of course, would not apply in
this case to Milwaukee, where the story would be local in significance
because of the residence of the woman in that city.)
III. Fire story summarizing the main facts in a few lines, as carried
in the report of a press association:
JOPLIN, MO., Nov. 16.--Fire of unknown origin this morning
destroyed the entire business section of Duenweg, a mining town
six miles east of here. Seventeen buildings were burned, the
damage being estimated at $75,000.
(It is significant, in studying relative news values, that this story,
dealing with property loss, gets only half as much space as that
telling of a woman’s death. Both appeared in the same newspaper.)
IV. Death story which covers all the important points. From the
Baltimore _Sun_:
ATLANTA, Nov. 13.--United States Senator Alexander Stephens
Clay, of Georgia, died of heart disease at the Robertson
Sanatorium to-day after an extended illness.
His death was as peaceful as it was sudden. He was talking to
his son Herbert when he suddenly ceased speaking and fell back
dead.
During the morning and early afternoon the Senator appeared
in better spirits than usual. The attending physicians said
that he was apparently recovering from the slight relapse of
Saturday.
Mrs. Clay came to Atlanta from Marietta in the morning, but
when she found the Senator so much improved she returned home.
The only member of the family present at the deathbed was the
Senator’s son Herbert, who is mayor of Marietta.
According to the physicians Senator Clay’s death resulted from
dilatation of the heart, superinduced by arterial sclerosis.
The Senator had been ill for nearly a year and went to the
sanatorium on November 1 to take the rest cure. He appeared to
be improving until Saturday, when he suffered a relapse which
his weakened condition was unable to withstand.
The body was removed to the Clay home at Marietta, where
the funeral services will be held Tuesday. Senator Clay was
57 years old, and is survived by a widow, five sons and a
daughter, besides his parents, Mr. and Mrs. W. J. Clay, of Cobb
county.
(An account of Senator Clay’s political life, in 350 words,
follows.)
V. Death story in which the cause is of special interest:
CHICAGO, Dec. 5.--Prof. Charles Otis Whitman, head of the
Department of Zoölogy and director of the Zoölogical Museum at
the University of Chicago, died of pneumonia to-day. His death
was due to exposure a week ago, when, late at night, he left
his room to look after a flock of pigeons which he had been
studying. Friends say that Prof. Whitman feared the pigeons
would be frozen.
Prof. Whitman, who was 68 years old, was widely known as a
zoölogist. He was born at Woodstock, Me., and was educated at
Bowdoin College, Leipzig University, in Germany, and Johns
Hopkins University.
Surviving Prof. Whitman are his widow and two sons, Frank and
Carroll. Arrangements for the funeral have not been completed.
VI. Graphically told story of the death of a famous “man-bird”:
LOS ANGELES, CAL., Dec. 31.--The winds, whose treacheries Arch
Hoxsey so often defied and conquered, killed the noted aviator
to-day. As if jealous of his intrepidity, they seized him and
his fragile flying machine, flung them down out of the sky and
crushed out his life.
He fell dead in the field from which he had risen but a short
time before with a laughing promise to thousands of cheering
spectators to pierce the zenith of the heavens, surpass his own
phenomenal altitude record and soar higher than any other man
dared go.
Cross currents, whirled off from a vagrant storm that floated
in from the sea, caught his biplane and shot him downward 563
feet to earth.
His body lay broken and twisted almost out of all semblance
to a human form. All of the spectators in the grand stand
witnessed the tragedy, as it occurred directly in front of them
on the opposite side of the course.
They sat in awe-stricken silence until the announcer gave out
the words through the megaphone:
“Hoxsey has been killed.”
Then from every part of the great stand came sobbing of women,
who but a short time before had clapped their hands to the
daring aviator as he arose from the field for his fatal flight.
“Of course the success of this attempt is contingent upon the
kind of weather I find up there,” said Hoxsey just before he
left the ground. “Some of the temperatures one encounters in
the higher altitudes are simply beyond human endurance. But,
if I can stand it and my motor works as well as it has been
working, I’ll come down with a record of 12,000 feet or more.”
Even at that moment the wind attained a velocity that kept
more cautious aviators on the ground. After he had ascended
it gained rapidly in violence. Moreover, it created a “Swiss
cheese” atmosphere, the most treacherous meteorological
condition that man-birds have to contend with.
There is nothing by which it may be known why Hoxsey did not
go higher than 7,742 feet, which his barograph showed he had
attained, but he had apparently encountered at that altitude
the same conflicting air currents that finally overcame him.
Notwithstanding this, and with the same reckless daring he had
displayed during the last week, he descended by a series of
spiral glides, and was performing one of his thrilling rolling
dips, when his biplane suddenly capsized and shot to earth.
Over and over the aëroplane turned as it fell, with a speed so
swift that of all the thousands who saw the tragedy not one
could tell what effort the aviator made to save himself. When
the wreckage had been cleared sufficiently so that his body
could be reached, he was found planted firmly in his seat, his
arms around the levers. The fall telescoped the biplane.
The steel sprocket which drove the propellers lay across
Hoxsey’s face, the motor resting upon the right side of his
body. Every one of the ribs on that side was shattered into
fragments. An iron upright, broken by the force of the crash,
held the aviator’s body impaled upon its jagged point.
The stop watches of the judges in the stand registered the
exact second of 2:12 o’clock when Hoxsey’s machine turned over
and plunged in its fatal fall. The news of the tragedy was
telegraphed over wires leading out of the press stand before
the machine struck the ground.
(Enough of the published story, which filled more than three columns,
is given here to indicate the detailed method of treatment. The death
of Arch Hoxsey in itself was a big news story, of nation-wide interest.
Its importance as news was enhanced by the fact that another noted
aviator, only a few hours before, had met death in a similar tragic
manner on another aviation field.)
VII. Story of a suicide printed because of the unusual means employed.
(Names and addresses given here are fictitious.) From the New York
_World_:
James Wilson, aged seventy, a photographer, committed suicide
by drowning himself yesterday afternoon in a tank in his studio
at No. 17 Blank street.
Wilson lived at No. 616 R street and was in the photograph
business with his son. The studio is on the third floor and
consists of three rooms.
Water leaking through his ceiling about 5 o’clock yesterday
afternoon attracted the attention of Henry Smith, who has a
printing shop on the floor underneath the studio. He sent a
workman to investigate and when the man returned and said that
Wilson’s door was locked Smith notified the police.
Patrolmen Stephens and Jones of the Blank Street Station broke
open the Wilson studio door and in the rear room found water
running over the sides of a tank used in developing pictures.
This tank is zinc lined, is 2½ feet wide, 2 feet deep and 4
feet long, and stands 5 feet up from the floor, the upper
edge being only 2 feet from the ceiling. Inside this tank was
Wilson’s body.
Wilson was 5 feet 2 inches tall and weighed 200 pounds. To
reach the top of the tank he evidently stood on a sink beside
it, but how he managed to crawl inside has puzzled the police.
First, thinking that Wilson might have been trying to repair
the tank, the police made a search for repairing tools,
but found nothing of the kind. Wilson was dressed in his
underclothing, and his outer garments were found hanging on
hooks.
The tank had to be chopped down before the body could be
removed and taken to the Morgue.
Mrs. Wilson said last night that her husband had acted queerly
yesterday and seemed to be brooding because a man whom he had
had in his employ for a number of years was to leave him at the
end of the week. She said one of their sons committed suicide
about seven years ago.
(Observe that the writer gives concrete details. Instead of saying,
vaguely, that Wilson, a large man, drowned himself in a small tank, he
gives Wilson’s height and weight and the exact dimensions of the tank.)
VIII. The following leads show how stories have been brought up to date:
1. ST. LOUIS, Dec. 9.--Colonel Abe Slupsky wears modestly
to-day the metaphorical wreath of hops that goes with the
championship in beer drinking.
When he drank a bottle of beer in the café at Hotel Jefferson
last night it marked the completion of a task begun thirty days
ago. Every day since then, Sundays included, nineteen bottles
of beer preceded the good-night one. Etc.
2. Search in a snowstorm failed to-day to find the three
robbers who held up three men and stole nearly $20,000 in
cash and checks on the Egremont trolley extension yesterday.
The amount taken was given out as $10,000, but the Woronoco
Construction Company stated to-day that yesterday’s full pay
roll was $20,000, and only a few men had been paid off when the
hold-up occurred. Of this amount nearly half was in checks. Etc.
3. BELFAST, Dec. 10.--Political excitement is at fever heat
to-day, following last night’s riots that resulted from
several Orangemen voting for the Irish Nationalist candidates.
Those so voting are being called traitors and their houses are
under guard to-day to prevent violence being done them. Etc.
4. Several hundred college boys from the University of Blank
crawled from the sheets this morning with dry throats, big
heads and a universal tendency toward “never again.” For last
night was “football night” and the college boys “did things up
brown.” Etc.
5. John K. Smith, millionaire broker, following his fourth
arrest in a month because of his strange antics with
automobiles, is in the observation ward of the City Hospital
pending an expert investigation as to his mental condition.
Smith was arrested yesterday, etc.
6. PROVIDENCE, KY., Nov. 26.--It is believed to-day that the
ten men entombed in Mine No. 3 of the Providence Coal Company
by an explosion are dead.... A windy shot in the mine yesterday
caused a terrific explosion, etc.
IX. Write a local fire story from the following notes, assuming it is
to be printed in an evening paper in a town of about 20,000:
Home of A. B. Smith, 600 Converse avenue. Fire discovered at 1
A. M. by neighbors returning from theater. One of them broke in
front door with a stick of cord wood and aroused the family,
who were asleep on the second floor. Fire had started in the
attic from crossed electric wires, and had burned down into
the closet in the room occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Opening
the closet to get some clothing, Smith was driven back by
flames. His wife fainted and he carried her out. His hands and
face were slightly burned. Two children, girls, 8 and 5, were
carried out by neighbors. The house, two-story frame, burned
rapidly. Only a part of the furniture on first floor was saved.
Loss about $10,000, covered by insurance. Whole building was
ablaze when the firemen arrived. Smith is cashier of the Second
National Bank. Man who broke in door, A. L. Jones, a grocer,
604 Converse avenue.
X. Assuming that the death of Senator Clay (see No. IV) was first
published in the morning papers, rewrite the story in 150 words for an
evening paper.
XI. Condense the story of Wilson’s suicide (see No. VII) into a
telegraph dispatch of 150 words.