Up from Newspaper Row

At the turn of the century, eight dailies were crammed together on the narrow, twisting section of Washington Street in downtown Boston called "Newspaper Row." Eight was too many. There, elbowing each other for space and circulation, the Boston papers developed their traditional pattern of frantic promotions, flashy makeup and lackadaisical reporting.

Over the years the dailies gradually moved out or folded, until only the Globe was left on Newspaper Row. Every day, for 86 years, an employee of the Globe had climbed a ladder propped against the building and posted headlines on a wooden signboard. Early last month a final bulletin went up: "Globe says goodbye to Newspaper Row." Last week Globe Editor Larry Winship was proudly showing Massachusetts newsmen the four-color presses in his paper's new $12 million building in nearby Dorchester; and, for the first time since 1860, Washington Street was without a daily newspaper.

Old Bugaboo. Among Boston newsmen, the passing of an era was little mourned. The warrens on Washington Street--cluttered city rooms, wire-cage elevators, battered rolltop desks--symbolized the musty editorial policies of the papers. "We've tried everything else," said one Globeman. "Maybe a change of scenery will get us--and the rest of the papers --up off our duffs."

Boston editors are quick to admit their faults, but they put the blame on the old bugaboo of competition. With a population of more than 2,300,000, metropolitan Boston has six dailies: the staunchly Republican morning Herald (circ. 204,395) and evening Traveler (circ. 186,306) of bustling, bumptious Publisher Robert Choate; the morning Record (circ. 411,971) and evening American (circ. 176,318), both Hearst tabloids; the fusty, fence-straddling morning (circ. 225,162) and evening (149,070) Globes.

In addition, Boston has eleven suburban dailies with a combined circulation of 193,000, and the Christian Science Monitor (circ. 162,000), primarily a national newspaper of comment and review.

"We're not always happy about the front-page ads," says Globe Treasurer John I. Taylor, "but this is a competitive newspaper town, and these ads bring us money." When the Traveler once tried to cut down its outsize headlines, says Managing Editor Hal Clancy, "our circulation went to hell. We have to have them." Fighting for street sales, which comprise up to 40% of average sales, the Globe packs the front page with short leads, which leap helter-skelter to inside pages.

Wooing the Advertiser. This look-and-leap makeup has one virtue, at least to business-office eyes. "It makes the reader go through the entire paper," argues one official. "We can tell an advertiser that every one of our pages is well read." Wooing the advertiser further, Boston papers zealously cover every ribbon-cutting ceremony in the city. But no real attempt is made to cover the city's constant flow of major educational, scientific and medical stories. Deskmen often fumble major stories; e.g., one paper ran Russia's first A-bomb explosion below the fold on the front page.

Longevity may be partly to blame. Of the Globe's 1,500 employees, 398 have been with the paper for more than 25 years, 30 for more than 50. Globe Editor Larry Winship has fired only one editorial staffer* in 44 years. Whatever the cause, says one managing editor, "we have too many 9-to-5 reporters. For every five people on your staff, you have one newspaperman. The others are hanging on his back."

* According to Globe legend, a man whom Winship overheard calling another "You dirty Jew." Winship fired him on the spot.

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