Waggener High School - RingBrothersHistory.com

The Voice, July 25, 1974:25th Anniversary Issueits under-sized clothes. The Voice of St. Matthews today mushrooms out of its 1-1 ½ year old tabloid form into a fullgrownnewspaper.”I see now it was a little flamboyant, but at the time I was proud of it. I was at the stage where I thought it was clever to imitatethe smart-aleck, God-almighty style of Time Magazine.The Voice in that issue continued its feud with the People’s Committee of St. Matthews, which favored annexation by Louisville,and attacked its leaders for saying a 75 cent tax rate would allow St. Matthews only to pay fat salaries and lawyersfees.I remember that any time we got hard up for interesting news, Jimmy would have me call up Hugh Doyle, a leader of thePeople’s Committee, and needle him a little. Hugh would react like an enraged bull.I would then call City Attorney Max Brown; or Mayor Jim Noland or some other St. Matthews official and read themHugh’s inflammatory statements, and get their reactions.Sometimes I’d call St. Matthews first, then go to Hugh, or his sidekicks, Clarence Hardin or Frank Stallings.We used to turn up some vivid copy that way. But we overworked it. Everybody got wise after a while and refused to makeany statements, though in an emergency, we could usually count on Hugh.Jimmy’s new venture, The Voice of the Highlands, made its debut on April 19, 1951. It was a full-size paper like The Voice.I now had four times as much work to do as when I started less than three months earlier. Jimmy wanted to be fair. He gaveme the title of editor and a $5 raise in pay.Back shop: That first full-sized issue was devilishly hard to put out. We needed twice as much advertising and twice asmuch news, and Jimmy and I had to do it all alone.We also had a new printer, the Clark County Press in Jeffersonville which added to the awkwardness. Luckily, our man inthe back shop, Lyle Murray, an experienced printer, didn’t give a hang about union rules. The paper was due out on Thursday,so late Wednesday night he and I worked side by side to get the paper out.Jimmy and I wrote the copy and laid out the ads, Lyle set the type, I proofed it, Lyle corrected it, and we made up the paperright on the stone. In defiance of union rules, I carried hot type for him from lino to stone, and even did some of the makeup.The press was flat bed, so Lyle and I had to lock up the pages and carry them to the press. Luckily we did not miss a singlepage. The edition came rolling off the press at 6 am Thursday and wearily we carried them to the Louisville post office anddemanded they be delivered that same day.The man in charge didn’t argue with us. We were all red-eyed from working and drinking and smoking and I guess wewere pretty dangerous-looking characters.The ‘lady’ episode: We had one hilarious episode in connection with this first edition. Jimmy wrote a long, sincere editorialthat went all the way down the left side of the front page for two columns. He said in essence that we were in the Highlandsnot for profit but to serve the people.It was really a sickeningly sweet editorial and he wound up by saying something like this: “Remember, if there is ever anythingI can do to serve you or this community, just call me at Belmont 2071.” Lyle and I slipped in a line at the end: “If alady answers, hang up.”We had the pressman, MacGregor, run off 10 copies, then stop the press, remove the unauthorized line, and continue therun. There was a tavern next door called Husband’s Retreat, where Jimmy, the printers and I always went for refreshmentsafter the paper was put to bed.When Lyle and I got there with the papers, Jimmy and the other printers were already drinking. The printers and I alwaysordered beer. Tom Jones (no relation to the Sun’s publisher), who owned the Clack County Press, ordered bourbon for himself,and so did Jimmy. A shot of whiskey was only 25 cents. They were well along when we casually handed them thepapers.Jimmy sat sipping his bourbon and reading his editorial with pleasure. When he reached the bottom line, his eyes bulged.He showed the paper to Tom. Pandemonium. Tom desperately needed our business, he was a little drunk, and he could hearthe presses next door thundering away.He jumped up and ran to the shop, shouting “Stop the press.” His partner, Carrie Mean, a very old, little lady, who detestedwhiskey, tried to stop him, thinking he was just drunk. Tom ran right past her, brushing her with his shoulder so that shewas hurled onto her desk, always piled high with papers.She sailed across the desk on her seat, scattering the papers in the air, and went tumbling oft the other side, the papers