While this was going on, another Associated Press envelope was delivered which read: “Cape Race, Newfoundland—Sunday night April 14—at 10:25 tonight the White Star _Titanic_ called ‘C.Q.D.’ to the Marconi Wireless Station here and reported having struck an iceberg. Immediate assistance was requested. So far no report on condition of passengers.” With that as a lead and the names of the passengers, I helped to get out a front page story of one of the greatest disasters of our time. I didn’t think human hands could work so rapidly! Within half an hour our papers were in circulation along lower Broadway and around the Brooklyn Bridge. Newsboys ran pell-mell along the thoroughfares shouting their wares. The Press delivery wagons were speeding up Broadway to Herald Square and Times Square, the two busiest sections of the city for early morning life, and there our extra was out a good twenty minutes before any other paper could publish the news of the disaster in a make-over edition. For days after that feat, the New York _Press_ was the talk of the newspaper world. Of course, we were fortunate in going to press a little later than the other papers, but the big thing in our scoop was the fact that the “dog-watch” was on the alert. When the _Titanic_ sailed on her maiden voyage, the largest ship afloat at the time, she carried a notable list of passengers. Among the 1,517 passengers who went down were Nathan Strauss and his wife; Captain Archibald Butt, aide to President Theodore Roosevelt; John Jacob Astor; William Stead of the _Review of Reviews_, a London magazine editor who wrote the sensational book, _If Christ Came to Chicago_, and Charles Frohman, America’s greatest theatrical producer. When the _Carpathia_, which had rescued most of the 690 survivors, arrived in New York, the commotion about the dock was much like that occasioned on the arrival of a hospital ship during the First World War. Thousands flocked to the _Carpathia_ pier, but only newspapermen and officials were permitted inside the police lines, I among them. Lady Duff Gordon of London, was among those saved. As she was good copy, most of the reporters were assigned to interview her in her suite at the Murray Hill Hotel. The room was crowded with newspapermen when she recounted her story of thrilling rescues, episodes of heroism among passengers and crew; pathetic scenes in a sea strewn with dead, maimed, and shrieking men, women, and children. I have had many memorable moments in my newspaper career but the assignment from John Hennessey, the Managing Editor, to work with the veteran members of our staff on the sinking of the _Titanic_ gave me my greatest reportorial thrill. * * * * *