Don’t Let Newspapers Die

I love this picture. It covers one wall in my favorite old haunt back in Raleigh. I’ve looked into the faces of those boys many times, wondering who they were and what happened to them. They make me long for a time when the newspaper was a sacred thing. A time when the smell of newsprint, the sound of a press running and the thud of the morning edition hitting your front porch were a vital, comforting part of the fabric of this country. But sadly, it seems those days, like these boys, are long gone.