The presses of The Independent could be seen through windows at the far end of the newspaper's building. A line of at least 200 people stretched down the street from The Independent's front door on this warm November night in Massillon, Ohio, and maybe 20 more people had gathered in front of the pressroom windows. Inside, a half dozen men in dirty blue uniforms could be seen getting ready to print the paper.
"See, they're pouring in some ink," a father told his grammar-school-age daughter. "Pretty soon now."
The time was a few minutes past nine, and automobile horns could be heard in the distance. What were those crazy kids doing now? From time to time carloads of them would drive past on North Avenue, the honking getting closer, the kids yelling the "T-I-G" cheer, waiting for people on the street to yell "E-R-S" in return. Sometimes a car would slow down or even stop, and the kids inside would ask what all these people were doing standing in line.
"Waiting for the paper," someone would say.
Waiting for the paper. Sacco and Vanzetti had been found guilty. The Lindbergh baby had been kidnapped. Japan had surrendered, and the war was finished. A special edition of The Independent was being prepared, 24 pages, to announce important news. Read all about it. That afternoon the Massillon High School Tigers had defeated the McKinley High School Bulldogs of Canton in overtime 42-41.
The 100th game. The 100th game. The 100th game.
Where had anything happened that was any bigger?