Last Updated: May 20, 1999
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Book review
"Wirespeak: Codes and Jargon of the News Business," $14.95 plus $3 shipping,
by Richard M. Harnett, Shorebird Press, 555 Laurel Ave. #322, San Mateo
CA 94401
The sleepy title of this curious little book didn’t exactly grab me
by the ear lobe. Yet anything jazzier would have been false advertising.
In any case, it taught me a few things and entertained in the process.
First, it delivers on the title’s promise. More than half the book’s
11 chapters are devoted to glossaries, telegraph and wire service codes,
directories of abbreviations and newsroom jargon definitions. For old-timers,
cryptographers and students of the evolution of communication, some useful
information might emerge. (The origin of "Deadline": Civil War prisoners
who crossed a line were shot.)
Apart from those pages of dry listings, though, there are enough anecdotes
to occupy at least one class of a history of journalism course. Warning:
In today’s hypersensitive climate, a few of the off-color yarns (more about
which later) might not pass the P.C. Committee Test.
So I gathered that author Richard M. Harnett was an old-school reporter
— 36 years with United Press and its successor, UPI, ending his career
as San Francisco bureau chief. One gets the feeling he yearns for a return
to the days of typewriters and Teletypes.
Early on, we learn of the important contributions of telegraph inventor
Samuel F.B. Morse and his understudy, "the brilliant news purveyor" Walter
P. Phillips. Phillips was awarded a gold pencil from Morse for his speed
— a "lightning slinger" — in transmitting Morse Code. Phillips later invented
the Phillips Code of abbreviations for telegraph operators. The shorthand
survived the demise of the telegraph and a smattering of Phillips Code
remains in use today (SCOTUS, for Supreme Court of the United States).
Harnett describes how reporters later developed their own shorthand
techniques for note-taking and recounts a chapter from famed UPI White
House correspondent Merriman Smith’s book, "Thank You, Mr. President."
When a reporter asked President Truman whether he had ordered General
Marshall back from China, Smith’s notes on the reply were: "M askt hmwrd
rpt but gg bck." Translation: "President Truman announced today that he
requested Gen. George C. Marshall, his special envoy to China, to return
to Washington for a report on his mission."
One of the more intriguing chapters in the book is on the origin of
"30" as the symbol of a story’s conclusion. With the departure of paper
from our newsrooms, I doubt it’s much used anymore — unless some romantics
in our midst have figured out a way to program it to their save-get keys
without bringing the system down.
While acknowledging that the derivation of "30" can’t be proven, Harnett
cites Associated Press historians in declaring that the symbol had its
beginnings in the numbers code created by telegraph operators. But why
30? Good stories abound. The best ones are hilarious, having their roots,
shockingly, in taverns. The more plausible versions, though, are (1) the
telegraphers needed a number to end a story and 30 was it, or (2) they
used an "XI" to end a sentence, two "Xs" to end a paragraph and three "Xs"
(the Roman numeral for 30) to end a story.
Now for those off-color yarns:
-
Under the definition of "Hanging," Harnett notes the usual meaning — a
story waiting to move on the wire. Then he tells a tale of the early ’60s
when Vegas opened its first topless show and UPI’s L.A. bureau chief was
growing impatient over delays in moving the story to New York. So he sent
New York the message: "Bare bosoms hanging." The story was called in quickly
by New York.
-
Under the definition for "Insert," he explains it as adding information
to a story that’s already moved. "You had to be careful," writes Harnett.
"‘Insert Marilyn Monroe’ was an objectionable double entendre."
-
At one newspaper, an editor would jot in the margin of a story, "Wagasa,"
meaning "Who Gives a S—Anyway?"
Curiously, in that latter example, Harnett doesn’t spell out the obvious
profanity, but later, in the "Newspaper Jargon" chapter, he defines "Shit
Detector" as Time Editor Henry Gruenwald’s way of labeling his reporters
who could spot a lie.
A few paragraphs later, he defines "Smersh" — attributed to former Washington
Post Managing Editor Howard Simons in describing the paper’s Style section:
"Science. Medicine. Education. Religion and all that shit."
These are small inconsistencies easily repaired in the second printing,
which there should be, since Harnett ordered only 500 copies. That’ll give
him a chance to fix the book’s opening paragraph, too, which begins: "Every
trade and profession has it’s jargon. ..."
We learn later that such typographical errors were called "bulls" because
so many appeared in the paper’s earliest edition, the "bulldog," so named
because it was so ugly. Or because it was so competitive and "care out
fighting like a bulldog." Or because ... Maybe the barkeep knows.
Perez is executive editor of The Ledger, Lakeland, Fla.
