The Wilmington morning star., 1941-02-25
, WASHINGTON Daybook
BY JACK STINNETT


student in Journalism I: Well they got me,
Butch. I mean the Secret Service. Pm not
complaining-but since you seem determined
to embark on sea of printers ink, ] thought
you ought to know what Journalism with a
capital is coming to. Just in case you
think that reporters blow into the Senate and
yell at Vice President Wallace, Hi Hank,
what's news?"-or breeze into the White House
and say, Look, F. D., gotta have the
loWdoWn
Butch, you'd better start thinking along diff
ferent lines. The other day word went around
that all accredited newsmen and women in
Washington were to present themselves at
the White House pronto. To get tngerprinted
and mugged and fill out questionnaires.
No, Butch, it wasn't any law. You didn't
HAVE to do it. But in return for the finger
prints and photo and properly answered ques-
tionnaire, you got White House correspond
ent's card with your passport picture on it.
Without one of those cards, you couldn't
earn your pay here for the Perkins Puddle
Gazette. I'll bet you couldn't get in to see
Harold L. Ickes' fourth assistant janitor with
out one.
And if you are going to buy groceries for
the little woman, Butch, you are going to
have to do your reporting a lot closer to
the Big Guns than that. See what I mean?
CAREFUL, BOYS!
Well, that's the reason lined up with the
rest Of the boys the other day in the east
wing of the White House. There were lot
Of White House cops around who kept saying:
'Straighten up that line there"-you know,
like ushers at a movie on Saturday night.
Pretty soon, I got up to the desk where a
Secret Service man gave me some cards and
explained where to write and where not to
write. It was a little confusing, I'll admit,
because the cards were really applications
for Jobs in the FBI and a fellow had to be
careful or he might find himself working for
J. Edgar Hoover.
Then we went into the billiard room. In
spite Of all the people and the photographer
and fingerprinters, you could tell that there
aren't any pool-room hanger-arounders in the
Presidents official family. The modernistic
pool table, of polished natural wood, was so
fresh you could tell there hadn't been any
dice rolled on it, and there wasn't any chalk
dust on the cues in the rack.
At long table, there were lot of fellows
filling out their questionnaires. Some were
having a lot Of trouble. You ought to tell
the head Of your Journalism department to
put in course on questionnaires. 1t would
help lot if some Of the boys land girls)
could remember right off where and when
u1CJ WSAS WILL, W1dL LQelr complexion IS,
ETC. After "complexion'' one fellow wrote:
Green. On account of hangover
After that we had taken what hereinafter
will be laughingly referred to as photographs;
then moved into one of three lines that ended
with the finger-printers. In spite of all the
non criminal fingerprinting that's o. ing on
these days, these men seemed little con-
fused by the clientele. Maybe they weren't
used to fingerprintng people who never did
anything worse than misquote an ambassador
or misspell d congressmans name.
NOBODY GOT MAD
My boss, standing there in line, heard the
instructions given the men ahead If him. so
when he stepped up he knew just what to do.
Apparently he knew too well, because the
printer gave him mighty suspicious look
and said: you've been fingerprinted before. -
To another friend who had a scar on his
thumb, the same printer said cheer1ully:
''Wen, pal, we'll never have any trouble fnick.
ing you up" And one of tha o+ha, 49, -,