— Chapter Three—

Welcome to The Herald

Felix arrived at the Daily Herald’s building on that Monday morning. He stepped out of the checkered taxi, paid and tipped the cabby, and looked up at the towering skyscraper. Taking off his straw boat hat, he walked through the front doors, saying to himself, “Well, here’s to the first day of my new life,” his heart pounding with anticipation as he entered the building.

Once inside, Felix navigated to the sports chief editor’s office and found a woman sitting in front of the door marked “Mr. John Badcock, Sports Editor.” The young woman was wearing unadorned business attire and typing rapidly on her desk. She gazed solely at her notes, not at her hands, which were on the keyboard.

As Felix approached, the woman didn’t miss a beat and, without looking up, said, “Can I help you?” The nameplate on her desk read ‘Miss Minnie Jacoway.’

“Yes, my name is Felix Kendell, and I’m here to start work today,” he said.

“Kendell?” Minnie asked, still only looking at her notes.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s correct—Felix Kendell,” he confirmed.

Minnie glanced up to see if her boss was still in his office. “You’re Felix Kendell, and you’re here to start working at the Herald, you say?”

He nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Oh, yes. I’m the one who sent you the telegram on Friday. Please have a seat behind me. I’ll let Mr. Badcock know you’re here,” Minnie said, still focused on her notes.

“Yes, Ma’am. The telegram said eight sharp,” said Felix.

“Yes, it did. Please, have a seat,” Minnie said, her gaze still fixed on her notes.

Felix sat down with his hat on his lap. Miss Jacoway’s fingers cruise through her keyboard. Felix thought to himself, “Boy, that dame can sure type fast. —I wish I could go as fast.”

The sound of a wind-up toy ripped loose as she pulled the letter-sized paper from the rollers of an Underwood No. 5 typewriter. Minnie stood up and gathered a bunch of files. Placing them in her left arm, holding them the same way women would carry their books. She opened Mr. Badcock’s glass door with her free hand and poked her head inside, addressing the man whose face was buried in the pages of the Tribune newspaper.

“JB, a Mr. Kendell is here. Can I shoo him in for you?” asked Minnie.

“No,” said the man behind the office desk.

She closed the door and said to Felix, “Mr. Badcock is currently busy. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”

Felix replied jokingly, “Yeah, I got that,” as Minnie walked by him, as if she hadn’t heard his one-line comment.

As Minnie walked away from her desk to file the papers, Felix watched Mr. Badcock through his glass wall office. Felix noticed that the man was about to enter Mr. Badcock’s side door without even knocking.

“JB?” the man who walked in said.

“What?” snapped JB, without putting down the paper.

“I need more time on that, Cardinal Kid,” said the man.

“Why?” asked JB.

“Because no one has any information on where he is. I’ve been searching everywhere trying to locate him,” said the man.

“I don’t care. Get me that interview,” demanded JB.

“But —” said the man.

“I said I want that interview, Jones! Now get out!” bellowed JB.

The man named Jones quickly left the room without another word.

After more than two hours had passed, Felix got up and stretched. Meanwhile, Minnie was back at her typewriter, working on more assignments for JB. The office floor buzzed with activity as writers raced against the clock to finish their stories for the evening edition. Typewriters clacked away, and people chatted on the phone or conversed with their coworkers.

Deadlines were looming, and the stories had to be checked and approved by the assistant editor before they could be sent to the pre-press room, where they would be typeset on a Linotype machine. The Harold had a Linotype Model 14, a hot metal typesetter with a wide range of font sizes and typefaces. This device made it more cost-effective to produce newspapers, thereby increasing the profitability of the companies that owned them. The operator could switch between different font faces and sizes by simply turning a handle.

Felix was elated to be with the Daily Herald newspaper. He eagerly anticipated his first assignment, imagining the possibilities of writing sports articles. His anticipation for his first assignment was palpable; he pondered what the topic of his first story would be: baseball, tennis, or perhaps horse racing? No matter the subject, Felix was prepared to tackle any challenge.

“Say, Miss Jacoway —is it?” asked Felix. “When do you think Mr. Badcock would like to meet with me?”

“As I said, JB will meet with you when he’s ready,” said Minnie.

“Well, Mr. Badcock left his office over an hour ago,” said Felix. “Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?”

“Nope,” answered Minnie. “Now, Mr. Kendell, please have a seat. JB will —”

“Yeah, I know —he’ll meet with me when he is ready,” said Felix.

Twenty more minutes passed before JB returned from his desk. Felix saw him walk back in from his side door. Felix stood straight up and walked right into his front glass door. Catching Minnie off guard, she attempted to intercept Felix, but it was too late.

“Mr. Badcock, I’m Felix Kendell. I’m here today to start working for The Daily Herald,” proclaimed Felix.

“I’m sorry, JB —I’ll show him back to his seat.

“No need, Miss Jacoway —I’ll talk with Mr. Kendell now.”

“Yes, JB,” said Minnie while giving Felix a stern look before closing the door behind her.

“So, you’re Felix Kendell?” asked JB.

“Yes, sir,” answered Felix.

“And you’re the kid from Northwestern?” asked JB.

“Yes, sir,” answered Felix.

“And you were in Professor Ingersoll’s classes?” asked JB.

“Yes, sir,” answered Felix.

JB remarked, “Ingersoll and I go way back. He’s never called me before to ask me to hire someone. He was adamant that I should hire you, though I wasn’t interested. So, why do you think Ingersoll was so insistent? What makes you so special?”

Felix responded, “I believe I can take the facts and transform them into an understandable narrative for any audience. I’m good at conveying information in a way that is accessible and easy to follow.”

“—Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. I use the five Ws method when writing my first sentence,” said Felix. “You see, sir, the way I write, the first sentence offers you all five Ws. The Who, What, Where, When, and Why. It makes it a nifty sentence to read. Once the reader reads the first sentence, they want to read more about the story.”

“I’m familiar with the Greek teacher, Hermagoras of Temnos, and his Five Ws,” answered JB.

“Yes, sir, of course,” said Felix. “I will always make my Five Ws the first thing the reader will read in my article with this method. None of your writers do this. I can provide you with some work I did in Professor Ingersoll’s class.”

“No need,” answered JB. “I have already read some of your work. And, I agree my writers won’t use the Five Ws in their opening sentence. However, we currently have a strong following. How will you bring in more readers as a sports writer?”

“Sir?” asked Felix.

“Look, Kendell,” said JB. “ALL newspapers are about readership. How are you going to bring in more readers to The Herald?”

“Okay, well —The Herald is fourth in the city for readership for the Sports section,” said Felix. “I’m good because I make my articles more memorable. When my stories are more memorable, the paper becomes a trusted source of information. This, in turn, will increase readership of the daily Sports edition.”

“Is that so?” asked JB.

“Yes, sir,” said Felix.

“Let’s say you’re right,” said JB. “What makes you think you make your stories more memorable?”

“I can prove it,” said Felix. “If you have read some of my work, I am willing to wager you can recall one.”

“Kid —you have to understand, I read a lot of articles every day,” said JB. “Many of them will never see the light of day at the Herald. —But I’ll play along. What article do you want to talk about?”

“Did you read my article about a robbery?” asked Felix.

“Yes,” said JB.

“And what do you remember?” asked Felix.

“A Fire Chief robbed Tuesday night for $1.35 on Front Street,” said Badcock.

Felix then explained what he had heard from Badcock. “As you can observe, sir, my first sentence,” Felix explains. “Contains all of the ‘Five Ws’: the ‘Who’ (fire chief), the ‘What’ (robbery), the ‘Where’ (Forest Street), the ‘When’ (Tuesday night), and finally, the ‘Why’ (‘$1.35).”

Badcock snickered as he said, “Nice trick, kid. Okay then, let’s see how you do in the real world. The paper is about to hit its evening press deadline, so Miss Jacoway will show you around after lunch. —Welcome to The Herald.”

On his fourth day at the newspaper, Felix had already memorized all the departments, the floors on which they were located, and the names of their respective managers. He had familiarized himself with the editors, assistant editors, and secretaries of each department, as well as the executives and the paper’s board members. Furthermore, Felix had memorized the locations of the fire exits and restrooms. Also, the names of the newspaper’s founders and the first reporters. And finally, the readership numbers from the past decade.

“For God’s sake, why?” asked Minnie.

“Because I have very little to do,” Felix replied. “I run papers from one department to another, proofread someone’s news story, and run more papers around the building. But I haven’t been given a chance to report on a single story—not even a local dog show.”

“Most people in their first month are still figuring out which door gets them into the building,” said Minnie.

“But I want to report something,” Felix insisted. “I want to be out in the world and dig around.”

“You’ll get your chance soon, Jack-Be-Nimble,” Minnie assured him as she picked up some files and walked away.

The morning was the same as the day before for Felix. He was taking papers from one department to another and proofreading other people’s stories. Soon, the word got out on how well he could streamline sentences. And before lunch, a guy from the art department came over with some of their ads. Felix helped them read better. He fixed their copy to all their ads within minutes, then went to lunch.

When Felix returned from the diner down the street, he saw Jones again in JB’s office. This time, it looked more like JB called him in to chew him out. JB left his door open, so anyone could hear him yell at Jones.

“I don’t give a damn what your excuses are, Jones!” yelled JB. “If you can’t find the guy you’re supposed to report on, then you’re not going to be a reporter here for long at The Herald!

“JB, I’m telling you I’m in a jam,” said Jones in a slight drunken slur. “No one can find the guy. NO ONE. —I’ve tried every trick in the book to find him. It’s as if the kid vanished in thin air!”

JB barked, “Bunk! That’s it! Pack up your belongings and go—you’re fired! I’m no longer willing to tolerate your ineptitude. Now, take your run-down brown shoes and leave!”

Jones implored, “Don’t do this, JB. Give me another day to locate Jack Tate. And if I don’t have a story by tomorrow, I won’t ever return.”

“FINE. You have 24 hours, Jones. If you haven’t received an interview offer from Tate by 10 am tomorrow, please don’t return here. I’ll send your stuff to your place! Now, get out of here!” JB declared.

Jones swiftly exited JB’s office and hurried down the stairs, heading for the entrance of the building. He muttered under his breath as he put on his hat, though he kept his voice low to avoid being heard.

Felix was sure that the man Jones was searching for, Jack Tate from Northwestern, was the same person as the Cardinal Kid. It made sense; Tate had been a great running back in college, and the Racine Normals had changed their name to the Chicago Cardinals. With a feeling of certainty, Felix knocked on the jamb of JB’s office door.

“Mr. Badcock?” Felix inquired.

“Kid — I told you, quit calling me Mr. Badcock. That’s my father’s name,” JB replied.

“Yes, sir. I couldn’t help but overhear. Are you looking for Jack Tate from Northwestern?” Felix asked.

“Yeah. The Herald wants an interview with him. Why?” JB inquired.

“Well, he went to the same college as me and…” Felix began.

“So what, Kendell?” JB interjected. “A lot of guys went to Northwestern,” he said.

“Yes, sir, as I was saying — we were roommates at Evanston,” Felix continued.

“Is that right?” JB asked, raising his chin. “I take it that you are still in touch with the kid?”

“Well, sure,” Felix replied. “I am in touch with Jack and know his whole family. I know his likes and dislikes, and when he’s fed up with the world, I know where he could be.”

“Is that so?” JB asked. “If you can catch Jones, you can be a great help to him. I’m sure he’s already at O’Hannagain’s on State Street,” he added.

“Yes, sir, I know where O’Hannagain’s is,” Felix replied. “Finding Tate is one thing. But getting Jones an interview with Jack Tate is another thing.”

“What are you driving at, Kendell?” questioned JB.

“Can you tell me why you want an interview with Tate?” Felix asked.

“Rumor has it the Cardinals signed Tate to a big contract, but no one is talking,” JB replied. “If it’s true, I want to know how O’Brien can afford it. There’s something to this, and I want to know what it is.”

“I see,” Felix said. “That’s why I want to do the story on Jack Tate.”

“Don’t you have the balls, Kendell?” JB questioned. “You want to scope one of our reporters?”

“No, sir. I don’t see it that way,” Felix explained. “It seems to me that Jones has had plenty of time to do the story already. So, I’d like to try it myself.”

“No! Now go find Jones at O’Hannagain’s,” JB ordered. “When you get to the front door, tell the host you’re from The Herald, and you’re there to fix a leaky pipe. When you see Jones, tell him everything you can to find this guy, TATE. I don’t want to see you in my office again until I have a story for print. Got that?”

“Yes, JB,” Felix stated as he turned to leave.

“And Kendell? —When you’re ready for a story, I’ll be the one who’ll tell you. It won’t be you telling me,” said JB.

“Yes, sir,” replied Felix.