Word: ralph
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...apartheid seminar will be taught by Williams and Ralph B. Potter, professor of Social Ethics...
Newspapermen are usually too worn and worried to be credible as heroes, even to their own very young children. But to Ralph Schoenstein, his father was the New York version of Superman: "Not a mild-mannered reporter who put on a cape in a telephone booth, but a commanding editor who could use a telephone booth to get tickets to any sold-out Broadway show." Father Paul was city editor of Hearst's New York Journal-American, the U.S.'s biggest evening paper through the '40s and '50s. He had muscular clout as well; his arms...
This affectionate memoir evokes a giant of great animal magnetism, who could charm a barroom full of journalists or a playground full of children. But when Schoenstein Sr. sensed injustice, he could become a horse of a different choler. Once, Ralph recalls, he and a buddy were given a summons for playing ball in Riverside Park. His father happened along, tore the ticket into bits, and growled at the cop: "For Crissake, why don't you go after [Gangster Lucky] Luciano and leave a bunch of kids alone!" The policeman crept away...
...kept under surveillance by a couple of FBI men (the Journal-American had discovered that a German spy was living in the Taft Hotel, and the bureau wondered where the information had come from). "Just wait'll I tell those bastards at school," said Ralph, who had been heckled because his father, being a Hearstman, was held responsible for starting the Spanish-American War. The bastards were more impressed by Paul's Pulitzer Prize...
...time Son Ralph became a published humorist (My Years in the White House Doghouse; Yes, My Darling Daughters), the Journal- American had wrapped its last fish. The son had become more prominent than his father, and the hail-'ellows in Toots Shor's who used to fawn on Paul could hardly remember his name, much less his deeds. But Ralph never for got. Editor Schoenstein died in 1974; it was probably his only instance of faulty timing. For Writer Schoenstein has produced a filial, funny book that Superman would have loved - and that anyone might admire...