Comments on: A Look Back at The Post’s Production Department

By: Bob Rogers

Bob Rogers — Fri, 07 May 2010 05:07:51 +0000

Ken,
I love how you bring people together with your photos and writing. You create a complete image of a time and a place important to a lot of people. Makes me wish I could have visited. So many newspapers are going away. I spend most of my time online, but I still like holding a good newspaper in my hand, browsing, bending back pages, handing a section to Claire to share something. It will be awhile before that can be created in the digital world.

By: Bob Rogers

Bob Rogers — Tue, 04 May 2010 01:14:32 +0000

Nothing like the rumble of a letterpress web spitting out newspapers. And the scent of ink drying…

By: Ken Steinhoff

Ken Steinhoff — Mon, 03 May 2010 19:22:16 +0000

Hearing loss was an occupational hazard, although hearing protection equipment was required in later years.

Newspapers used to have a great collection of sounds: the ringing bells that warned the press was starting; the low grumble it made as it got up to speed and the (literally) deafening roar when it was cranking out thousands of papers an hour.

The newsroom had the clamor of teletype machines, with their bells signaling urgent stories; the constant chatter of police radios; the sound of ringing telephones and the murmur of reporters all over the room.

The editor of my hometown paper in Cape Girardeau, MO, took the time to record those sounds before they were gone.

By: geraldine king

geraldine king — Mon, 03 May 2010 19:15:08 +0000

I remember the post on fern street I believe. press room was in a semi basement and walking home from school (st anns) we would stand on the sidewalk and look down into that hot and noisey room, windows were open as the time was pre air conditioning – late 40s early 50s. I often wondered if everyone who worked there suffered a hearing loss. such dedication.

By: Michael LaForgia

Michael LaForgia — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 05:45:02 +0000

On the last night, I drove to The Post about 1 a.m. and walked in while the presses were running. A supervisor grabbed a fresh paper off the line and gave it to me. I still have it.

By the way … We’re. Still. Alive.

By: Bob Rogers

Bob Rogers — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 19:45:55 +0000

Great story. The Death of a Newspaper. Sad, but the world moves on. You’re having fun and making a difference with this citizen journalism site, as am I with mine. I look at the Messenger online once in awhile, but don’t recognize anything. Those nearly three years were some of the best of my life, and the next decade was hell. For the last 20 I’ve been living a dream, traveling the world, on my own buck (very cheaply I might add) with the love of my life, on a tandem bicycle, and still taking pictures and sharing them. In addition to the site, we do multi-media presentations for charity and some magazine work together. Sounds like you had the career you wanted.

I’m having fun wandering around your site!

By: Ken Steinhoff

Ken Steinhoff — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 11:05:18 +0000

Connie,

Thanks for the compliment. An end of an era is worth a few tears.

By: Connie Ruhe

Connie Ruhe — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 21:32:32 +0000

I am so deeply touch by your story that I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

By: Before The Palm Beach Post Presses Were Stilled

Before The Palm Beach Post Presses Were Stilled — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 00:01:54 +0000

[...] Go here to see the Magic of the Big Iron and the workers who drove it so well. [...]

By: Ken Steinhoff

Ken Steinhoff — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 00:50:59 +0000

Mark,

Nice image with the exit sign in the foreground in your take.

I’d love to go back and wander the place one last time, but I’m afraid there may be a shoot on sight order out on me after I posted this. (And I don’t mean shoot with a camera.)

I wonder if Doug Franklin showed up on the last run to thank the press crews for their years of service?