Life at The Mobile Press Register, 1813-2013: Agonies of adventure, hairbreadth escapes, desperate expedients, crucial councils, random compromises and barely averted catastrophes*
This photo was taken by Press Register photographer William Lavendar.
It is from the McCall Library collection at the University of South Alabama.
If you worked in the Government Street building of the Press Register, you probably recognize this stairwell, but the lobby may not look familiar. In the late 1940s, the Press Register owned radio station WABB and its studio was in the lobby of the newspaper. You can see the radio station's call letters in the window that is nearly under the stairs. The station began broadcasting at 1480 kHz on June 19, 1948, and
had acountry music format.
Spectators crowd Government Street outside
the Mobile Press Register for a 1949 parade. Note the sign on the upper left for the studio of WABB Dial 1480 radio station. Photo is from the Alabama Department of Archives and History.
Since 1950, the Green Eyeshade Awards have recognized the very
best journalism in the Southeastern United States. Two veterans returned from World War II, Ed
Lee and Ted Pearson, proved to be two of the Mobile Press Register's most celebrated
reporters who won the awards.
Both men came from the small community of Crichton, then on the
western outskirts of Mobile at the bottom of Spring Hill. Lee was two years
older than Pearson, having been born in 1924.
Both attended Murphy High School
and both joined the Press Register as
office clerks after graduation. With the onset of World War II, Lee entered the
U.S. Army in December 1942 and Pearson joined the U.S. Navy in May 1944. After
the war, both men rejoined the staff of the newspaper.
In
November and December 1958, Lee and Pearson collaborated on a series of 40
stories that pointed out mismanagement and political influence in the operation
of the Alabama State Docks during the latter part of the administration of Governor
James E. Folsom.
The articles won for the two men the Green Eyeshade Award
of the Atlanta Chapter of Sigma Delta Chi in 1959.
In 1991, the Mobile Press Register phone directory listed more than 60 editors, reporters, photographers, and other staffers connected with news gathering. In 2016, about a dozen people in Mobile carry on news operations. The Press Register is now fully integrated with other Newhouse-owned newspapers in Alabama and Louisiana: the Birmingham News, the Huntsville Times, and the New Orleans Times-Picayune. What that means is that the newspapers are edited and designed at central locations. Support functions such as human resources for the newspapers have also been combined, reduced, and centralized.
The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics said that employment in the newspaper industry overall has declined by 60 percent over the past 25 years, from 458,000 in 1990 to 183,000 in March 2016. The Newhouse newspapers, which are leading the charge into the digital age, seem to have reduced jobs much deeper than other papers in the nation.
Many Port City Baby Boomers may have memories from when they were school
children of Disa Stone reading to them at Leinkauf, Old Shell Road and at other
schools and hospitals.
Disa Stone’s real name was Elsa Chandler and she was the
wife of Ralph Chandler, publisher of the Mobile
Press Register. The name “Disa” was a child’s mispronunciation of Elsa that
stuck with her and “Stone” was a translation of Stein, her German maiden name.
A small, thin, energetic woman, Elsa worked as hard as her husband
at the Press Register. She loved
children, but had none of her own. So she gave her time to others’ children.
At the newspaper she conducted two clubs for children
designed to introduce them to literature and to help them write. Younger
children joined the Sunshine Club, while older children participated in the Nom
de Plume Club.
The two clubs’ members met at the newspaper’s office on
Saturdays to hear stories, to read their own writings and to talk about
improving their writing.
The reporters, however, often found the children to be a
nuisance as they hung over reporters while they typed, or the children would
occupy reporters’ desks if they got up. Sometimes a piece of lemon would come
flying past a reporter’s head as the kids fished the lemon slices out of glasses of lemonade and threw them at one another.
The Chandlers divorced in 1949, but Elsa continued her work
with children in Mobile’s schools. She died in 1974.
Do you have memories of Disa Stone visiting your school, or were you a member of one of her children's clubs?
Empty Press Register newspaper vending boxes taken off the streets in 2012. Fred Jones posted this Mike Brantley photo on the Facebook page for former Press Register employees.
Coin-operated newspaper
vending machines were once a common sight in Mobile and every other American
city. They lined railroad passenger platforms, airport concourses, stood
outside hotels and restaurants and could be found on almost every busy
street corner.
Now they are a rarity.
Before George T. Hemmeter
invented the newspaper vending machine in 1947, distribution of The Mobile Register included use of the honor
box shown here.
Note, however, the small key lock at the bottom right for the
coin box. Trust apparently went only so far. (Photo from the Erik Overbey Collection in theDoy LealeMcCallRare BookandManuscriptLibrary,UniversityofSouthAlabama.)
Use of the coin-operated
racks sought to capture readers who didn’t subscribe, and to solve the problem
of distributing papers to the suburbs that grew rapidly after World War II. Their
use began slowly and then surged in the early 1970s.
When USA Today began publishing in 1982 and introduced widespread use of
its distinctive TV-looking news boxes across the country, other newspapers responded by
increasing their use of boxes, too.
Few people remember now, but publishers
often turned the placement of their newspaper vending machines into a free
speech issue. Mobile was among the cities that tried to regulate the placement
of the news boxes. Like most newspapers, The
Mobile Press Register asserted that such regulations infringed on its free
press rights under the First Amendment.
As newspaper prices rose in
the late 1900s, the vending machines began to lose favor with the public and
publishers alike. The machines were mechanical and couldn't accept dollar bills,
only coins. The only choice customers had was to carry a pocket full of
quarters or dollar coins. At the same time, Sunday editions had become so bulky
that only a limited number of copies could be placed in the boxes.
Also as people switched to
getting their news, entertainment and other information online, the boxes
became less and less necessary. Newspapers began pulling their vending machines from the streets and they have all but disappeared now.
A human flood washed over Mobile during the Second World War
bringing drastic, sweeping economic and social change. Thousands of men and
women from the farms and small towns of the rural South flowed into Mobile to
take the jobs offered by a wartime economy.
Between April 1940 and March 1943, the population of the city
rose from 78,000 to 125,000.
Shipbuilding, aluminum production, chemical plants and a
major U.S. Army Air Corps base brought waves of people who changed a leisurely
paced small Southern city into a chaotic, overcrowded metropolis.
Housing became inadequate. People lived in tents, trailers
and shacks, overwhelming public services.
With the war workers came their children who overwhelmed the
school system. By the 1942-43 school year, the school system had to operate in
double shifts of four hours each. More than 2,000 children attended no classes
at all.
Mobile Press Register
Publisher Ralph B. Chandler understood the seriousness of the problems the city
faced. On the news pages of the paper he exposed the problems. On the editorial
pages he proposed solutions. Behind the scenes he worked to make the proposals
a reality.
The paper published a rental directory and appealed to homeowners
to make spare rooms available to those with no place to stay. Poignant stories
pulled at Mobilians’ heartstrings: a wife who came to Mobile to join her
husband being forced to sleep two nights in the bus station; an ill woman who
took a cot in the city jail rather than sleep on the streets; a man who camped
in a tent outside the home he was evicted from.
The Press Register’s
circulation grew rapidly with the population, which demanded newspapers to
read. In January 1939, the Press Register
had a circulation of 43,985. By January 1942, circulation had grown to 65,193,
in increase of about 48 percent.
The newspaper had problems keeping up with the demand for its
editions, especially after 1942 when publishers faced rationing of newsprint
because its production used too much material, transportation and labor
critical to the war effort.
The presence of the Brookley military air base allowed the Press Register to get extra supplies of
newsprint.
In this photo dated
Sept. 1, 1906, the men who worked in the night-side composing room of the Mobile Daily Register are taking a break
at 11:15 p.m. to pose for the camera.
The Register was a morning newspaper and
these men and others worked through the night to have the newspaper ready to go
out in the early morning.
This late hour also apparently
was the crew’s lunchtime break, which lasted 20 minutes. The men appear to have
coffee cups and sandwiches in their hands.
At the time, the
compositors used Linotype machines to set the lines of metal type that made up
the newspaper pages. The men assembled the pages of type in a metal frame
called a chase.
At the right, each of
the wheeled tables, called turtles, held the chases that were eventually rolled
to the platemaking department. Several more steps were needed to create the
curved plates that went on the press and eventually printed the newspaper.
After World War II, machines began automating many of these jobs. By the 1980s, the jobs no longer existed and more than 100 years of newspaper culture disappeared with them.