In days gone by VIII

In days gone by, reporters asked tough questions, smoked cigarettes and tucked press passes into the brims of their fedoras. They wore suspenders and slept-in suits, pounded the pavement night and day and seeked the truth and 'the scoop' with equal abandon. They plucked away at manual typewriters, bottles of scotch tucked neatly in the bottom of their desk drawers, and they fought for their stories, arguing with grumpy, raspy-voiced editors until the excitement of 'Stop the presses!' cut through the din of a smoky newsroom. Reporters were a trusted cornerstone of society and embodied the spirit of unbiased information gathering and dispersal. Today, they moonlight as funeral home copy writers so they can get a deal on burial plots and all-weather floral arrangements.