Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Bleak day for newspapers
***UPDATED***
This story from The Associated Press via the Houston Chronicle explains it some. Major papers in Oklahoma and Texas had 1A "Found alive"-type heads, by the way.
--ER
Original post:
Nothing hurts a newspaper reporter or editor worse than getting a story wrong except getting a story wrong at the exact moment that it can't be corrected before the press start.
The story out of West Virginia presented just such a situatio. Papers in the East, South and Midwest couldn't switch gears, literally, in time to change that now-awful and ubiquitous front-page head: "They're Alive."
West Coast papers had a little more time.
Check out today's front pages, courtesy of The Newseum.
Awful news day.
--ER
This story from The Associated Press via the Houston Chronicle explains it some. Major papers in Oklahoma and Texas had 1A "Found alive"-type heads, by the way.
--ER
Original post:
Nothing hurts a newspaper reporter or editor worse than getting a story wrong except getting a story wrong at the exact moment that it can't be corrected before the press start.
The story out of West Virginia presented just such a situatio. Papers in the East, South and Midwest couldn't switch gears, literally, in time to change that now-awful and ubiquitous front-page head: "They're Alive."
West Coast papers had a little more time.
Check out today's front pages, courtesy of The Newseum.
Awful news day.
--ER
Comments:
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Sad news day indeed. I was surprised, though, that even the online edition of the NY Times still had the wrong story. How does THAT happen, ER? The paper stuff makes sense, but the online???
Shit happens, especially when we want to hear good news. Now I'm hearing on talk or rather spew radio that everybody should be sued for getting it wrong and not correcting it instantly. The mine owner should be sued, the Red Cross should be sued, CNN should be sued, the mine union should be sued, the yellow dog that walked by should be sued, etc.... Somehow the misinformation has become more of a story than the death of these poor bastards. That shifting of the story is a story all by itself isn't it.
My brother-in-law was a Virginia/West Virgina Coal Miner, had lots of talks about this sort of thing, but it never kept him out of the mine one minute. I'm wearing a belt buckle of his even as I type (Westmoreland Bullitt Mine). They are a different breed those guys that descend into the earth. Next time you flip a light switch remember these 12 guys who died to make it possible.
My brother-in-law was a Virginia/West Virgina Coal Miner, had lots of talks about this sort of thing, but it never kept him out of the mine one minute. I'm wearing a belt buckle of his even as I type (Westmoreland Bullitt Mine). They are a different breed those guys that descend into the earth. Next time you flip a light switch remember these 12 guys who died to make it possible.
RV, everybody had it wrong at one time. Online, TV, everybody. How LONG the NYT online had it wrong is the question -- but even that's difficult to say, maybe, because of caching and refreshing and not, and listserv push stories and everything else.
It's the finger-pointing to take the focus off particular groups that is the worst to me.
"Look at them, no, look at them..."
No, let's look at the victims and their families right now.
Didn't we learn this already from the New Orleans fiasco?
"Look at them, no, look at them..."
No, let's look at the victims and their families right now.
Didn't we learn this already from the New Orleans fiasco?
"Miner's Prayer," by Dwight Yoakum:
When the whistle blows each morning
And I walk down in that cold, dark mine
I say a prayer to my dear Saviour
Please let me see the sunshine one more time
Chorus:
When oh when will it be over
When will I lay these burdens down
And when I die, dear Lord, in heaven
Please take my soul from 'neath that cold, dark ground
I still grieve for my poor brother
And I still hear my dear old mother cry
When late that night they came and told her
He'd lost his life down in the Big Shoal Mine
Chorus
I have no shame, I feel no sorrow
If on this earth not much I own
I have the love of my sweet children
An old plow mule, a shovel and a hoe
Chorus
Yeah when I die, dear Lord, in heaven
When the whistle blows each morning
And I walk down in that cold, dark mine
I say a prayer to my dear Saviour
Please let me see the sunshine one more time
Chorus:
When oh when will it be over
When will I lay these burdens down
And when I die, dear Lord, in heaven
Please take my soul from 'neath that cold, dark ground
I still grieve for my poor brother
And I still hear my dear old mother cry
When late that night they came and told her
He'd lost his life down in the Big Shoal Mine
Chorus
I have no shame, I feel no sorrow
If on this earth not much I own
I have the love of my sweet children
An old plow mule, a shovel and a hoe
Chorus
Yeah when I die, dear Lord, in heaven
Sixteen tons and what do you get, another day older and deeper in debt,
Saint Peter don't you call me cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store.
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Saint Peter don't you call me cause I can't go,
I owe my soul to the company store.
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