Widner, who was inducted into the Indiana Journalism Hall of Fame in
2010, remembered that there were few dull days in the newsroom of a
metropolitan newspaper such as the Star.
But in a seven-day-a week operation, Sunday was perhaps the closest to being considered a slow news day. Widner noted: “The big
decision is what to make the main headline for the Monday morning edition? What
is the top story of the day?”
The decision seemed to be an easy one for Widner to make on
Sunday, July 20, 1969—if all went as planned, America was about to land two
astronauts, Neil Armstrong and Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, on the lunar surface as the
crowning achievement of the Apollo 11 mission. (The third member of the Apollo 11 crew, Michael Collins, stayed behind to fly the Command Module, Columbia.) “I wrote a ‘flag’ that
anticipated the landing and moonwalk, and called Joe McHugh, who was the
composing room foreman that day,” Widner recalled. He told McHugh to find the
largest headline type he could find. They settled for 144-point type, more than
twice the normal size, and the front page for Monday, July 21, began to take
shape.
The news editor had also established a “moon desk” at the Star, and selected John McDowell, one of
the best “rewrite men in the business” to run it. Star editors funneled all of the “moon” copy from the teletype
machines to McDowell, and he sorted through the millions of words that spewed
out and “meticulously rewrote the various wire service reports and came up with
a clear and concise story of the historic event,” Widner noted.
Widner was no stranger to making important judgments when it
came to groundbreaking news. Before joining the Star, he had worked on a competing local daily, the Indianapolis Times, where he started
work in 1939 as a copy clerk, became the paper’s police reporter, and
eventually served as its assistant managing editor. He was sitting in the Times newsroom
on November 22, 1963, when he received a report that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. With the newspaper nearing
its final-edition deadline, Widner acted quickly, leaping to his feet to hit a
button behind his desk that, literally, stopped the presses.
As the time for the actual landing on the moon by the Lunar
Module Eagle neared, the Star’s chief photographer, Jim Ramsey,
set up his cameras in front of a television with a five-inch screen to
photograph Armstrong’s first steps on the lunar surface.
Widner had planned
something different for page one—a single photograph of Armstrong on the
moon with no article, just the headlines. “The story of the moon
landing and walk, which McDowell would write, would be on page 2,” said Widner,
who had his plan approved by Bob Early, the newspaper’s managing editor.
The unusual makeup for page one caused some consternation.
Widner recalled the following conversation:
“Where’s the story going to go? Asked
one veteran staffer who was walking past the Page 1 draft in the composing room
that was waiting for THE PICTURE.
I replied, “It’s all on Page 2.”
“But,” he said, “we’ve never done
this before.”
“That’s right,” I replied. “But we’ve
never put a man on the moon before either.”
1 comment:
Ray, thanks for this post! My Dad was always proud of it. I can recall how he would explain to me the rationale behind laying out the front page in terms of how to pull the reader's eye through the stories as one scanned its content. One of his co-workers always referred to my Dad as the "Monet of make-up."
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