Word: d
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...know all those figures on the front. They're all made of sandstone, you know. They all have these figures depicting the various chronological eras in the Bible as it goes through. We sandblasted those, steamcleaned them rather, because you couldn't sandblast them, you'd ruin the sandstone. You'd steamclean them with acid. Then we waterproofed them, we blew wax into them. That's so as to preserve it. I got quite a few jobs. But eventually the fellow I was working for went out of business, Starahide his name was, and I looked for something else...
...course at that time I was handling distribution myself. Friday I'd take a fellow with me, load the big Buick up that I had, we'd go out, he'd jump into the front of stores with them. I delivered until I got up to 36,000. Then I just couldn't do it all; it was too much: writing the paper, covering the courts, delivering the paper, so I finally hired a few fellows to take care of the distribution for me. Finally, eventually I wound up with eight or ten men just handling distribution...
...d never do it again, not what I had to go through. I just went broke, I had no more money left. I was getting all the money I was getting from other sources, a few dollars here and a few dollars there, all going into the paper, and I finally wound up $25,000 in debt, which I still am, a little more than that, about $30,000. I was only selling 4000, 5000 papers a week. I sold each issue for ten cents. The publication costs were about $4000. I was getting about seven cents a copy, bringing...
...ever start a career like that again, I certainly wouldn't devote my time to writing newspapers. I'd go into magazines or books, because the rewards are greater and the pressure isn't as great as it is in a newspaper. Your newspaper's all right for hack writers, these people who file straight reports, you know...
...here they all went into the can. They had a centerfold with the four-letter words in there. I thought, if they want to do it, it's all right, the hell, it's not my paper. I wish they had been here thirty years ago, they'd have thought my paper was a Sunday School sheet. I was in here the day the police came in and confiscated the papers. Since then, the police have quieted down, I guess they've read it several times and they don't think...