Jim Wentz
When I was a young, teenage, rookie reporter at the Altoona Mirror in my first job out of high school, I worked with an old-timer named Frank White.
White was the telegraph editor pulling copy from the Associated Press and United Press International telegraph machines and deciding what international and national news would get into print. He was a kindly soul, liked by everyone and possessed a dry, understated wit.
White kept a scrapbook of bloopers that found their way into the Mirror over the course of his career. They included convoluted sentences, nonsensical passages and captions incorrectly identifying the subjects of photographs.