America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

Chapter 102 Bankruptcy and Acquisition (Published 7/10)

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight streamed into the New York Daily News building, this structure, once a symbol of the glory of a media empire, was experiencing its darkest hour.

Thomas Duane arrived two hours earlier than usual.

He didn't sleep all night.

He sat behind the large mahogany desk, with the front page of the day's New York Daily News in front of him.

The 800-word apology and reflection statement, personally written by Arthur Kennedy, occupied two-thirds of the front page.

Thomas stared at the words, his heart sinking a little deeper with each reading.

Over the past few months, this newspaper has launched a series of baseless and malicious attacks against author Arthur Kennedy.

#m

We acknowledge that these reports seriously violate journalistic ethics and abuse the credibility of the media.

"We extend our sincerest apologies to Mr. Kennedy and all the readers we misled."

This is hardly an apology.

This is the epitaph that The New York Daily wrote for itself.

Thomas knew that the moment the newspaper was printed and delivered to the streets, it would all be over. But he had no choice.

Yesterday, in that cheap diner, Arthur Kennedy had already put a knife to his throat. Either he'd do as he was told, or he'd wait to nail more Hearst-owned newspapers to the pillory of shame.

The office door was pushed open.

The secretary walked in, her face as pale as a sheet of paper, holding a stack of voicemail slips in her hand.

"Sir, Mr. Strauss from Macy's called. They said—they said they're immediately cancelling all GG advertising for the next quarter."

Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He knew this moment would come, but he didn't expect it to come so soon. Before the newspaper was even officially released, GG merchants had already begun to flee for their lives.

Thomas asked, his voice hoarse, "What's the reason?"

The secretary said, "They said—'It doesn't align with Macy's values ​​of honest business practices.'"

She paused for a moment, then added, "Mr. Strauss also said that now, if anyone's GG appears in the New York Daily News, angry customers will put bunny stickers on the store's door. They don't want trouble."

Thomas gave a wry smile.

That's the cruelty of business. Yesterday's partners are today avoided like the plague for fear of getting tainted by "Coolie's" stench.

Those businessmen who usually fawned over Hearst were now scrambling to distance themselves from him, fearing that if they were too slow, they would be overwhelmed by the tide of public opinion.

Thomas asked, "Anything else?" even though he already knew the answer.

The secretary glanced at the thick stack of notes in her hand, her voice trailing off: "Woolworths Supermarket, General Motors New York, and Renault Tobacco Company—they're all lining up to terminate their contracts. The finance department says that if all these companies withdraw, our revenue this month will decrease—by 70%."

70%.

This essentially signaled a major commercial failure for The New York Daily.

Thomas stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window.

On the street below, several newspaper delivery trucks bearing the logo of The New York Daily News were parked on the side of the road.

The car was splashed with bright red paint, and the drivers gathered together to smoke, too afraid to drive out to deliver newspapers.

Looking further afield, hundreds and thousands of people were still gathered in the City Hall Square.

In the past, this building was a beacon for the New York press.

Every floor was filled with the clatter of typewriters and the excited shouts of reporters.

Hearst's name is a symbol of power; the front page of the New York Times could determine the life or death of a politician.

But now, it's like the Titanic that has hit an iceberg.

The apology statement did not stop the damage; it merely blew up the last watertight compartment in the hull.

Hearst thought that an apology would earn him forgiveness, but he was wrong.

When a bully who is usually arrogant and domineering suddenly kneels down and begs for mercy, the onlookers will not be moved, but will only rush up and kick him a couple more times.

The red telephone on the desk suddenly rang.

That's a dedicated line that goes directly to San Simeon, California.

Thomas picked up the receiver with trembling hands.

"Boss————"

"Sell it."

Hearst's voice came from three thousand miles away, sounding as if he had aged ten years. It was hoarse, tired, and undeniably authoritative.

Thomas paused for a moment, then asked, "What are you selling? The building?"

Hearst said, "Everything. The printing press, the distribution channels, the buildings, the equipment—everything was sold."

Thomas said, "But boss, the current market situation—"

Hearst yelled into the phone, "There's no going back, Thomas!"

Then came a violent coughing fit, and Thomas could hear the panting coming from the other end of the phone.

Hearst said, "If I don't sell now, this pile of scrap metal is burning through my money every day! The banks in Chicago are pressing for loan payments. I need cash! Immediately! Right now!"

Thomas's hand holding the microphone trembled: "Yes—I'll contact the buyer right away."

Hearst's voice grew even more somber: "Don't go to any other newspaper groups. Those bastards are all waiting to see us fail, waiting to drive down the price. Find a real estate developer, or a scrap dealer, anyone who pays cash. Got it?"

Thomas said, "Understood, boss."

The phone hangs up.

Thomas slumped back into his chair, staring at the gloomy sky outside the window.

He knew that an era had ended.

That era of yellow journalism, which belonged to Hearst and was so arrogant, was buried by a young novelist with a pen.

He shook his head with a wry smile.

The secretary came in again, this time with an even more terrified expression: "Sir, the deputy editor-in-chief just submitted his resignation. He said he's going to Chicago and doesn't want to stay in New York anymore. And—there are more than a dozen other reporters also lining up to resign."

Thomas waved for her to leave.

He stood up and took one last look at the office.

The photos hanging on the wall.

Photos of Hearst with Theodore Roosevelt, Hearst with Hoover, and Hearst with political figures from various countries.

These photos now seem somewhat ironic.

Those images that once symbolized power and glory now only serve as a reminder of how fragile power is and how fleeting glory is.

Thomas picked up his coat, ready to contact potential buyers.

Although he knew that at this time, the only people willing to take over the sunken ship would be those like Hideyuki who wanted to take advantage of the situation.

or----

Thomas suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He recalled Arthur Kennedy's meaningful smile in the restaurant yesterday.

That young man won't be satisfied with just defeating Hearst.

He also needs to take over the ship.

Turn the enemy's weapons into your own sharp sword.

Thomas shivered.