I was subscribing to The New York Times in the fall of 2001 as part of a class requirement. So you can imagine that on September 12, I eagerly retrieved my copy of the newspaper and cherished it ever since. After all, this was history and I had it in print from one of the most, if not the most, esteemed newspapers in the country. It was surreal. There's something about a real, ink-stained newspaper that can't ever be replaced: the feel, the smell, the black fingers. I read most of my news online now, but I wish I had more memories of getting "All the News That Was Fit to Print" in... well... print. I came across this new feature from The New York Times, and looking at the headlines evokes in me that same surreal feeling. These are the headlines that have measured the pulse of our world.TimesMachine allows you to explore the archives of The New York Times from September 18, 1851 (the very first issue of The New-York Daily Times) to December 30, 1922. You must be a home delivery subscriber to have access to each and every issue; however, anyone can have a look at some sample pages from major events in history.
2 comments:
When I lived in NYC and commuted into Manhattan for work I would always stop and buy a croissant and coffee with the morning NYTimes and read it during my ride. I still have a copy of the paper from 9/12/01, as well as the day I got engaged, then married; the NYTimes with the announcement of one of my best friends' weddings...the list goes on. I guess I inherited the trait from my dad, who still has copies (laminated for preservation) of Muhammad Ali's big win on the front page, Elvis' death announcement, and more. There's something about turning those pages and getting smudges of ink on your fingers...the way the paper smells, the crinkling noise it makes as you fold back page after page.
This is very cool. I am going to make sure all of my librarian friends know about it.
My aunt always would send us newspapers from wherever she was on a special day for us. Thanks for sharing this!
Post a Comment