The Press: Working Journalist

Roy Wilson Howard was a natty little man with a predilection for splendid dress—fresh boutonnieres every day, violently checked pistachio shirts and bow ties of the same stuff. His taste for work was just as pronounced. "I'm not a candidate for the funeral director yet," he said in 1960, putting aside his last active title with the Scripps-Howard newspaper chain and taking the relatively inactive post of chairman of the executive committee. But he continued to go down to the office every day just the same. There, one afternoon last week, in his...

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