5 ASSIGNMENT

It was the very first letter Emily read that had spoken to her, though she skimmed the others through just to be sure, before coming right back to that one.
It was short and stark and sad.
It was from a Mr Janis Zemeckis, a Latvian baker on the Lower East Side. He'd been in America ten years. His only daughter had disappeared in Chicago six weeks previously and had only now turned up again - apparently killed in a horse car accident. He had written begging Mr Pulitzer to warn his readers not to make the mistake he had made of letting their children go off to the World"s Fair in that terrible place, a city that was no better than the wild frontier, where bad things happened.
"What's the story, Miss Strauss?" asked Joseph Pulitzer when he returned.
"The dangers of the big city for single women," she said simply.
Pulitzer looked dubious.
"Women in cities have been vulnerable since time immemorial. That's what happens to them. It's an old story."
"But it hasn't been done through the eyes of those left behind, not through a man like Mr Zemeckis's eyes," said Emily, holding up his letter. "Nor through the eyes of others like him who've lost their loved ones. There's been a cover up about this in Chicago. Mayor Harrison doesn't want bad news ruining things for the World's Fair. Crime's gone up since long before it kicked off in May but you wouldn't know it from what you read in the papers. All the papers want to print is how big and great and modern Chicago is and how revolutionary all that stuff is that they have on display at Jackson Park. I may not be a Chicagoan but I've walked its streets and I can tell you it's not all pretty, and modern and going places by any means."
"But it's all been done before," repeated Pulitzer, stubbornly. "You can warn all you like but girls are still going to head off to the city and predators of all kinds - good and bad, wicked and worse - will still be there waiting for them,
"Yes, and they're mainly men! No wonder your editors don't run stories like this. They're men too!"
"All in all, you don't have a very cheerful view of the male of the species, do you Miss Strauss?"
"I have a more cheerful view of the female, Mr Pulitzer. Otherwise I wouldn't be standing here right now asking you to send me to Chicago. Let me chase this story and come up with something that the gripman on a New York streetcar and his wife want to read because they both understand it and it grabs their hearts. Let me get to the truth of this girl's story and others like it and you'll have a story that's worth printing. Send me to Chicago."
Pulitzer said nothing, he was thinking.
"The Fair ends when precisely?" he finally asked. "Thirtieth of this month," said Emily. "Nine days' time."
He thought some more; Emily held her breath and stayed right where she was. Pulitzer had made stubbornness pay. She could too.
He relented.
"That should give you time enough to investigate Mr Zemeckis's story for the World and turn it into something worth reading on the 30th."
Emily's eyes widened, but she kept her nerve.
"I'll need an advance," she said boldly. "I'm out of funds."
"Our men get paid after the event, by the space they fill."
"But I still need money to do the story," Emily said firmly.
"Then I'll put you on our standard tryout rate- $15 a week, plus expenses. And be sure you account for everything."
There was a very long pause indeed, as Emily weighed up what to her was a disappointing offer. But before she could protest, Pulitzer added.
"That's the deal, Miss Strauss. Mr Butes will telegraph our City Editor, Charles Hadham to discuss your assignment. Tell him to make time to see her in the office tomorrow Arthur."
Joseph Pulizer stood up and stretched out his hand.
"He didn't even ask to see my press clippings," grumbled Emily as Arthur Butes showed her out. "So what exactly do I have to do to get a permanent job with him?"
"You really want that, don't you?"
She nodded.
Butes looked at her and then at the letter from Janis Zemeckis that she still clutched tightly in her hand.
"You must find out what happened to the girl, Miss Strauss. That's the only way. Find out what happened, get your story in by the deadline and tell it to the world!"

© William Horwood & Helen Rappaport