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     July 25, 2008

      
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Picking the President

By Guy Carruthers '49

It’s nearing Presidential election time again--an embarrassing reminder that in 1948 I fumbled away my chance to make the Daily Californian as famous as the Chicago Tribune.

It was the evening of Tuesday, November 2, the conclusion of the campaign between Give-’em-hell Harry Truman and Thomas E. Dewey, governor of New York, also known as the little man on the wedding cake. The latter was assumed by pundits to be a lock. So I, as Daily Cal editor, wise beyond my years, and thus confidently foreseeing the election’s outcome, sat down at my elderly Underwood to compose a statesmanlike editorial for the next day’s paper. It called for Truman supporters to be good Americans and close ranks behind the victorious Dewey.

Meet the Press Editor Carruthers (left) confers with
his fellow journalists in the Daily Cal office.
Stuffing this epic into a rear pocket of my cords, I left the paper’s offices at Eshleman Hall about 7 o’clock and strode down Bancroft to the LS&Z printing plant, the Daily Cal’s “lower office” on Allston near Shattuck. As always, I experienced an indefinable joy from the clinking linotype machines, sizzling metal, the soon-to-be roaring press, and shop talk with foreman Jerry Thiltjen, the paper’s production boss. The editorial, I knew, would be efficiently escorted through the publishing process by Jerry and the night editors--cast into single-line “slugs” of lead type, assembled into shiny columns on a “stone” table, and formed into pages of the neatly folded tabloid that would soon emerge from the old flatbed. (None of your sissy desktop publishing for our Greatest Generation.)

After a parting shot to the proofreaders that typos in tomorrow’s issue would be severely dealt with, it was time to leave this magical place and head home for the night. First, stop off for my dietary staple of a chocolate shake and grilled cheese sandwich, with a tab that came to 45 cents. Then, trek over to my Northside room near the co-op on Ridge Road. Finally, climb into the sack to scan a deadly econ text and listen to H. V. Kaltenborn, dean of newscasters, predict an early Dewey win. All very mellow; drowsiness setting in. Turn off the light, but not our Bakelite vacuum tube radio. Not yet asleep. Then, with midnight approaching, a vague uneasiness intrudes. Maybe from a hint of doubt in the voice of the late night radio reporter: Early returns suggest Truman is giving Dewey a helluva contest.

Now listening more attentively, I shudder at the prospect that Dewey might actually lose the election. If my editorial is still in the paper tomorrow, the Daily Cal--and more importantly its editor--will be the laughing stock of the campus. Fully awakened by that terrible possibility, I spring out of bed, get back into my cords, grab my Navy pea coat, and half run through a chilling fog across the darkened campus. I burst into the lower office as the paper is about to be put to bed and order the senior night editor: “Get that editorial outta there, now!”

Next, I head for the “overset”--proofs of timeless compositions stored against similar, if not as crucial, emergencies. Select a substitute, headlined “On the Rooting Section.” It scolds the all-male section for rowdy behavior (remember that full-page Life photo?--hundreds of students in those long-billed rooters’ caps, fists thrust skyward, middle digits extended?).

Next morning, the early edition of the Tribune is topped by a huge headline, “DEWEY DEFEATS TRUMAN.” But Truman confounds the pundits, winning 57 percent of the electoral vote. A picture of the President displaying the Tribune’s errant front page becomes one of the most famous photos of the century.

Because of my characteristic prudence, or perhaps insomnia, the Daily Cal avoided the humiliation that showered the Tribune. Yet, on some November evenings, I harbor a touch of regret that I passed up the opportunity to--let’s admit it--go down in history. For if I’d left that editorial in the paper that chilly midnight so many years ago, who’s to say I might not be as famed today as. . . “Wrong Way” Roy Riegels ’30?






Guy Carruthers worked at the San Francisco Examiner and in media relations for Chevron Corp. He retired in 1985 and lives on the central Californa coast with his wife Patti, War '47.


We invite alumni to write about their Cal experiences for “Recalling Cal,” California Monthly, Alumni House, Berkeley 94720. Contributors will be paid $100 upon publication.

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