Word: waterfront
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...year ago last week, a gunman jumped from a black sedan in upper Manhattan, pumped three slugs into a boss stevedore named Tom Collentine, and got away. Along New York City's 771 miles of crime-ridden waterfront, the murder sent only a ripple of excitement. Most of the New York press gave the killing a good play and then went on to other news. But not the New York Sun. It set a man to digging out the story behind the story. Last week stocky, hard-digging Reporter Malcolm Malone ("Mike") Johnson got a well-earned Pulitzer Prize...
Georgia-born Reporter Johnson, 44, whose drawl and easygoing manner hide a bulldog tenacity, was neither a crime specialist nor an I-cover-the-waterfront expert when he started. He was a general-assignment man who had served the Sun for 20 years, on everything from the burning of the Morro Castle to the storming of Okinawa. In a 1946 series on hijacking, he had picked up some waterfront contacts. Using them, he started his digging into waterfront crime...
Last week the Collentine killing was still unsolved, but Johnson's report had run to 50 hard-hitting articles. It had also stirred up three official police investigations and a demand for legislative action to cut down crime on the waterfront. But Johnson and the Sun were still far from being ready to sit down: there was more to come...
...pickers of the Imperial Valley. Frankie was pinched for unlawful assembly in Los Angeles. He was in jail the night before Reggie bore him a baby, Timothy. His ostensible employment was that of an ice man. With that other, ever-loyal functionary, Willie Schneiderman,* he tried to organize the waterfront, and began to attract the attention of party headquarters in New York. He was charged with resisting arrest during a melee in Los Angeles' Plaza. Then during an unemployment demonstration he waved a placard reading, "Defend the Soviet Union," and got a sentence of $500 fine and 180 days...
...dead as were killed in Britain by bombs and rockets during the entire war. Hamburg's great port is virtually paralyzed and many of Hamburg's sea captains have become trolley car conductors. Nearly 30,000 seamen drift from one odd job to another. Even the tough waterfront has lost its rowdy vitality. In the dark alleys, these nights, the stillness is broken now & then by the shuffling gait of a homeless seaman or the importuning of a hard-working streetwalker, dragging a drunken, crippled U-boat veteran who staggers along on his crutches...