"Go to the Gravedigger." One of my teaching tools for reporters.
Dad was a blue-collar worker who spent hot summer afternoons in a sweltering New Jersey factory without air conditioning making car tires by day. At night, after coaching my brother’s Little League team, he drove to pick up my mother who also worked in a factory as a part-time keypunch operator. Sometimes I’d get to go with him for the drive. On the way, Dad would stop at a street corner, crank open his car window and toss out some coins to a man hawking the first edition of