America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

October 31, the office of the owner of The New York Daily News

William Hearst threw the sales report on the table.

"We printed an additional 20,000 copies," he said.

Editor-in-Chief Thomas stood at the table, waiting for his next words.

"So-so," Hearst added, his face expressionless.

"Readers have responded well to 'Honest Man on Wall Street,'" Thomas said.

"The mailbox is full. Everyone says we have guts to satirize the president."

Hearst scoffed:

"Satirizing the president is certainly safe. But safety alone won't get you anywhere. Some bartenders in Brooklyn can recite a few lines from Kennedy's Economist article from yesterday. What about ours? Does anyone remember what the Treasury Secretary said?"

Thomas didn't respond.

"Our people still can't capture that feeling?" Hearst asked.

"I can't write it," Thomas admitted.

"They can analyze policies and comment on current events, but they can't write sentences that make the general public laugh or feel that the point is right."

Hearst didn't speak. He opened a drawer, took out a cigar, cut it open, lit it, and took a puff. The smoke slowly dissipated in the office.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Two knocks, quick and crisp.

"Go in," Hearst said.

Miller from the investigation department walked in, carrying a folder. He nodded to Thomas, then looked at Hearst.

"Some findings have been made regarding the background check on Arthur Kennedy."

Miller opened the folder and began his report.

"We checked all his work records during his time at this newspaper, and they were spotless; we couldn't find any problems. There were no issues with the articles, the interviews, or even the expense reports."

Hearst's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Miller continued:

"However, we've been monitoring his place for a while. He rents a house in Brooklyn, just three blocks from the docks."

"Our investigators confirmed that he met with a dockworker named Patrick O'Reilly at least six times over the past three months. Sometimes in a pub, sometimes in a café near the dock, each conversation lasted more than half an hour."

"Who is O'Reilly?" Hearst asked.

"An Irish immigrant, he worked as a stevedore at Pier 14 for seven years. His brother, Sean O'Reilly, was a minor leader in the dockworkers' union, in charge of about twenty or thirty people."

"The dockworkers' union's relationship with certain organizations is an open secret. They engage in smuggling, extortion, and control of the loading and unloading business, but the police haven't caught them red-handed yet."

Hearst slowly leaned back in his chair and said gently:

"So, this 'honest guy from Brooklyn' met with an ordinary dockworker at least six times over three months. And this dockworker's brother held a position in a union with close ties to the mob."

"Such a connection can be established," Miller said cautiously.

What were they talking about?

"Our investigator managed to sit at the next table and eavesdrop twice. The conversation covered working conditions, unpaid wages, and safety measures at the dock. It sounded like a journalist conducting an interview and gathering material."

"Sounds like it," Hearst repeated the words.

"Of course, there is another interpretation," Miller said.

"If someone wants to write an article attacking the city hall, and their source happens to be a circle that wants the city hall to divert its attention from the dock business, then such a collaboration becomes quite reasonable."

Hearst was silent for a moment. The only sound in the office was the ticking of the clock.

"Where's the evidence?" he asked finally.

"There is no direct evidence. There are no records of financial transactions, and no clear instructions were given. There are only connections in terms of time, place, and people."

Hearst's lips twitched, and then he said:

"Readers don't need to see Kennedy personally accepting the dirty money. They just need to know that this guy who criticizes the city hall all day often hangs out with a dockworker with a complicated background, and that's enough."

"They will fill in the gaps themselves and draw their own conclusions. People always believe in the 'truth' they deduce."

He turned to Thomas:

"Tomorrow, leave space at the bottom of the front page for an exclusive report."

Thomas quickly wrote it down.

Hearst emphasized:

"Be careful with your wording. Only write the facts. Write who Kennedy met, how many times, and where. Write about O'Reilly's profession, what union his brother belonged to, and the union's reputation in the police files."

"This will ruin him," Thomas said.

"If he's innocent, he can't be ruined."

Hearst said with a cold laugh.

"Truly honest people aren't afraid of investigations. But if they're not innocent... the public has the right to know who's providing them with the 'truth.' It's our duty to oversee this power, Thomas."

Thomas nodded. "I understand."

"Also, find a columnist we trust and prepare three to four commentary articles. As soon as the investigative report is published, follow up immediately. Raise the topic a bit, discussing 'the public responsibility of journalists,' 'the transparency of opinion leaders,' and 'the hidden dangers of media manipulation.'"

"Tell those writers that this is for the sake of journalistic integrity. They should know how to write."

"Yes, Mr. Hearst."

After Miller and Thomas left, the office returned to silence.

Hearst stood up and walked to the window.

In the distance, towards the East River, the outline of the dock is faintly visible.

Kennedy was talented. Hearst acknowledged that.

But talent is never the deciding factor in the newspaper industry.

The decisive factors are vision, skill, knowing when to say what, when to keep quiet, and who to stand with.

If Kennedy were smart, he would have understood the rules of the game after seeing the reports.

Hearst wouldn't mind giving him a chance, a chance to return to The New York Daily News.

Of course, this is writing under strict editorial control, writing what needs to be written, and using the appropriate tone. Talent needs to be controlled, otherwise it becomes a dangerous commodity.

But if he sticks to his "principles," insists on that naive "telling the truth"...

Then he will have to pay the price.

In this industry, the costs are often very specific: reputation, future prospects, and channels for expression. Sometimes, it's a person's entire career.

Hearst walked back to the table, picked up the phone receiver, and dialed a number.

After the call connected, he spoke:

"It's me. Pass a message to the dockworkers' union, especially to those connected to the O'Reilly brothers. Tell them that a reporter from the New York Daily News has taken notice of them and is investigating some issues. Don't go into too much detail, just let them know."

He paused for a moment, listening to the response from the other end.

"Yes, let them be nervous. When people are nervous, they are more likely to say or do the wrong thing. And the wrong things they say or do are good news."