Working long hours at the print shop etched a passion for history

By BILL ARCHER Bluefield Daily Telegraph

I think many people want to know what’s going to happen in the future. Working at a newspaper, almost everything we do is a review of an incident. It’s the same thing if I write a story about an accident or a music recital. Newspaper reporters can’t predict the future, but we can tell readers what happened. As Felix Nigro once told me during the six months I worked with him to learn the art of being a printer: “You can read week-old news in the daily newspaper every day.”

Felix was good about providing me with a running commentary on just about every topic imaginable, and while I never thought I would pursue the printing profession, I eventually came to appreciate the artistry involved in managing a print shop. It involved long hours, weekend work and constant attention to every conceivable detail. I found that it was an occupation that a person really needed to understand people to do well. It was a whole lot more than just wearing an apron that had a special pocket for a line gauge, or counting, cutting and trimming stock. There was always a big picture to consider.

At some point during my apprenticeship and later during the few years that I actually managed Telegraph Commercial Printing Inc., I realized that printing was a noble calling. The great American statesman, inventor, writer and patriot, Benjamin Franklin identified with the trade and in the end, described himself simply as: “Benjamin Franklin, Printer.” I think of him as the “hundred dollar bill dude,” since I have come to learn that it is truly, “All about the Benjamins,” but Franklin believed the printer’s trade opened the doors to the many opportunities he enjoyed during a life of service.

As a result, I didn’t think about all the 3 a.m., mornings when I was counting paper stock so I could cut it down to size and have it ready for Ken Davidson to run on the press when he came to work at 6 a.m. I used to think that Ben Franklin probably worked the paper stock just like I did, and that enormous collection of sayings like “Early to bed; Early to rise ...” “A penny saved is a penny earned ...” and “Waste not, want not ...” probably came to him while he was counting 22” X 34” sheets of paper.

It was Franklin’s alter ego, Poor Richard, who got all the credit or blame for the sayings. When Mike Shott added the weekly newspaper project into the mix and I found myself working from 3 a.m., to 10 or 11 p.m., on some days just to get all the work out, Ben and Poor Richard visited me as I labored in solitude. My link to the two of them was my passion for history, but I think they liked me because I represented the future to them.

Working long hours at the print shop reminded me of when I worked long hours driving tractor-trailers or the campus bus at West Virginia University. Thinking about that made me question why I decided to attend WVU in the first place. I had a great college just 11 miles away from home — Washington & Jefferson College. W&J really wanted me to come there and play football for them, and it was the most sincere offer I got. I received a letter from Sterling College in Kansas, and one of my football coaches wanted me to walk-on at WVU, but W&J made me a partial scholarship offer, and I was humbled by that.

The motor scooter accident I had on Dec. 16, 1966, changed my future plans. I still went to W&J for my official campus visit, but I went on a pair of crutches. Although I explained to the coach and athletic director that the surgeon who was scheduled to operate on my knee said I couldn’t play competitive football or baseball, the W&J officials were willing to honor the partial scholarship offer. Even with that scholarship, I couldn’t afford W&J at the time. As an out-of-state student, WVU was still in my price range.

However, I was impressed with the facilities I saw during my W&J campus tour. The gymnasium was small, quaint and reminded me of a church, and the classrooms seemed like they had been dumped in a vat of history. My tour guide provided me with a little bit of trivia. He told me that in 1789, Benjamin Franklin donated the books that gave the (then) Washington College library its start. Actually, Franklin gave money to the college to buy the books they needed to get started. Franklin died in 1790 and noted in his will that he was: “Benjamin Franklin, Printer.” It is an honorable trade.

I overheard a conversation my wife was having with another girl last week. They were talking about the weather, and the girl was talking about the Weather Service’s prediction for another snow storm. However, she concluded that the Almanac is predicting a major 30-inch snowfall for March 15. I smiled to myself, not because of the girl’s prediction, but rather because it made me think about “Poor Richard’s Almanack” and of all the time Ben, Richard and I spent working for TCI Printing.

The only Poor Richard-style saying that I remember coming up with back in those days was: “Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.” Still, I’ve keystroked in a few almanac’s worth of words in the years that have passed since that time. For all the opportunities I’ve enjoyed as a printer and a writer, I owe a debt of thanks to Ben, Richard and all the other historical figures who have peopled my adventures all along.

Bill Archer is the Daily Telegraph’s senior editor. Contact him at barcher@bdtonline.com

 

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