I was standing in the doorway to the city room, looking inside as though I'd just discovered the kingdom of heaven on earth and was having my first sight of the Lord's most favored creatures. There were a dozen of them in the tiny, crowded space, loud with talk and typewriters, and they were busy getting out the little eight-page daily that gave them their chance to live in Paris in the Nineteen Twenties. Nothing much was going on in the world that long-ago May evening. Nungesser and Coli, the French aviators, were still missing after their attempt to fly to America. Colonel House had praised Benito Mussolini's labor bill. A horse named Whisky had won the English Derby. But to the enchanted young man in the doorway, these people could have been putting together the news story of the century.