The Wyandotte news-herald. (Wyandotte, Mich.) 1943-1963, 1945-04-30
by.
strauss
gantZ
One Hour of Joy

FOR A FEW HOURS there was
Joy -. Joy in thinking 1t was
over, over there. The typical Amer
lean laughed and shouted and
even drank a toast with his neigh
Dor. Women wept openly. This
was It.! Now, Johnny would come
marching home again. 1t was
heavenly hour, an hour when taut
nerves let loose with torrent OF
Thanksgiving.
In thousands of newspaper plants
all over the land the scene must
have been the same. This was II
-. and we wanted to scream 1t
with banner headlines. "UNCON-
OPTIONAL SURRENDER"
At the dinner hour Saturday the
editorial rooms Of the Wyandotte
News-Herald were almost deserted.
Some Of the staff were enjoying a
weekend dinner in Detroit. Others
were working at Victory gardens.
The composing room force the
pressmen stereotyper all
had washed up for the day }
leaving the plant a darkened room
of shadows. The carrier boys were
scattered over the city kids
again free to enjoy game OF
baseball.
Then at seven o'clock it
came.
Germany had agreed to mcondi-
tional surrender A high govern
ment official at San Francisco re-
leased the statement. 1t was SEN
ator Tom Connally but he
refused to allow a direct quotation.
He said official word would come
from President Truman In a very
short while.
That was authentic enough for
every newspaper in the country.
1t was the signal for the News
Herald staff to get on the run.
At tbs lights were bright in the
editorial offices. How everyone ar
rived 50 quickly no one will ever
be able to explain.
Typewriters were banging out one
bulletin after another. A copy boy
was breathless from rushing to and
from the composing room. Tele-
phones never stopped ringing. Car
rier boys rushed into the circula-'
tz5a room, their high pitched voices
telling the whole world that brother
Jim and Joe and Tom would be
home with q chest full of medals.
This was their hour of JOY. This
was the hour when the DON'T
YELL" signs on the wall were for
gotten scraps Of paper =. not
meant for q time like this.
Grown men In the composing
room weren't behaving much diff
ferent. The last hour Of waiting
had passed. This was the golden
hour. The lifting of a heavy bur-
den made them walk faster {.
talk faster work faster. Now
the melting pot was hot and molten
metal flowed like shining silver on
to page matrixes casting the
magic words, UNCONDITIONAL
SURRENDER. Now the linotype
machines. nerve-wracking noise
makers only a few hours before
were singing a happy song
OF SURRENDER.
Outside. the silent city had let
loose with whistles yells and
! tears. Men and women who an hour
before walked IN deep meditation
thinking Of sons and broth
ers on the battlefront In Europe
lifted the yoke from their
shoulders and shouted, Gloryl :.
Gloryl Glory!
Now, In the editorial rooms the
die was cast. Only the official word
was wanting. The word that would
send an avalanche Of young voices
screaming the glad tidings from
door to door.
The word where was it?
Why doesn't President Harry s.
Truman tell Us to go ahead? Why
must we wait lifetime for just
one word. IT'S OFFICIAL! UN-
CONDITIONAL SURRENDER Is
OFF1CIALi
And then 1t comes and we
are stunned. The President says,
No confirmation" Now, there is
glum silence where hilarity reigned
before. We think of Jim and Joe
and Tom p. and wish so much
we could have said 1t then: He's
r,ry,{y,, bovua Nor,