June 23, 2024

By Arthur H. Gunther III

thecolumnrule.com

     Like so many of our grandfathers, mine was a blue-collar worker, one of millions who kept factories humming and so the rhythm of a nation. But he also was an after-work guy who washed up for dinner, changed into clean clothes and sometimes a smoking jacket with string tie. It was his morphing into civilized at-home relaxation, earned by his hard labor.

     After supper, made by my grandmother, also a blue-collar worker, he would take to an over-stuffed, comfortable arm chair with a standard-size lamp and 100-watt bulb hugging that, providing light so he could read several newspapers – local and those from nearby New York City. 

    He particularly enjoyed or silently argued with the numerous columnists, particularly those in the New York Journal-American. He hit the sports pages, too, but lightly, and concentrated on the national news.

     That last focus could get him in hot water. As a citizen, my grandfather realized he had a right to speak out. He once did so, on the subject of tariffs, and wrote a strong letter to Harry S Truman, then president. No threats, but emphasized words. He received a casual but responsive visit from the FBI. And he continued to speak out.

     His views, his after-work moment, his self-release from a blue-collar job as foreman at a smoking pipe factory, were made possible not only because of his country and its democracy but because he could keep himself informed through many newspapers. He made time to read as well.

     Today, newspapers, especially local, have disappeared or gave been reduced in staff so severely that they cannot keep readers informed. And readers have moved on – to social media word bites and video clips and much unverified content. More like gossip that has tangents in overblown circumstance, prejudice and deliberate falsehood.

     My grandfather, long gone, would be lost today. The job would not be there. Nor the newspapers. And maybe not even his almost-total faith in the American experiment that he cherished. Rhythm lost.

     The writer is a retired newspaperman.

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