I was acting crazy in North America, and all the crazy people there took it seriously.

Chapter 91 Help!

When people read historical records, they will mostly imagine the scene of the "Three Kings" dominating Chicago as soon as they came out!
However, historical records can be deceiving.

Donald was indeed determined to conquer all, and he led a team of capable men, leaving Chicago in high spirits and heading southwest towards Missouri.

His plan was simple and straightforward: make full use of the Irish ethnic network.

First, contact the local Irish community, leverage kinship to gain an advantage, understand the landscape of the local bootlegging market, and then use these communities as a base to gradually expand and encroach on territory.

When people from the same hometown meet, it's easy to discuss things!
Missouri has many communities with Irish immigrants.

As the convoy entered a small town, a familiar atmosphere immediately enveloped them.

The street names, the style of the churches, and even the faint smell of stewed potatoes wafting in the air made Donald feel as if he were in an Irish neighborhood in Chicago.

Soon, he saw a "restaurant" with a green clover sign and smelled the aroma of wine.

Donald smiled knowingly and said to those around him, "Look, that's the Irish for you. Wherever we go, we open taverns!"

I got out of the car and pushed open the door of the pub. The light inside was a bit dim, and there were about a dozen people sitting there. Judging from their faces, they were mostly of Irish descent. They were talking in hushed tones, and the atmosphere was somewhat somber.

The atmosphere in this pub isn't lively enough!

Donald then walked to the bar, banged on the table to get everyone's attention, and then announced loudly in the most friendly voice:
"My fellow Irish brothers!! I'm Donald O'Connor from the Chicago Irish Gang. I'm new here and I'm having a great time. The drinks are on me!"

He had envisioned a scene of enthusiastic cheers and applause erupting in the pub, with people crowding around to greet him warmly and ask about the news from Chicago.

However, the reality is—

The tavern suddenly fell into a deathly silence.

All conversation abruptly ceased. The people who had been drinking with their heads down all looked up, their eyes fixed on him.

But there was no welcome, no curiosity in those eyes, only... suspicion, anger, and undisguised hostility?
The owner behind the bar, a burly man with a red face, immediately darkened his expression.

Without a word, he suddenly bent down, grabbed a gleaming double-barreled shotgun from under the counter, cocked it with a "click," and pointed the dark muzzle directly at Donald!
"Fuck you! You're Donald? I'm Donald's dad!"

"Damn it!" Another patron slammed down his glass, stood up, and roared, "Are all these swindlers named Donald? You just scammed one group and now you're at it again? Do you really think we're stupid enough to be fooled?"

"Another one from Chicago? Why are there so many scammers in Chicago?"

"Beat them up! These damn swindlers! They only cheat our fellow villagers out of their money!" Other drinkers also gathered around in a fit of anger, some grabbing stools and others picking up bottles.

Donald: "???"

Wait a minute, what happened?
……

Meanwhile, Logan, a conman in Chicago, convened the editorial staff of The Sun.

"Gentlemen, I have an idea," Logan said, banging on the table. "The competition in the news industry is getting fiercer and fiercer. If The Sun wants to continue to grow, we need to have the fastest, first-hand news!"

"So I've decided to equip our overseas reporters with two planes! To form our own aerial reporting team! Wherever there's big news, our reporters can fly there immediately!"

The editors were all dumbfounded.

Flying... an airplane?
These days, it's already quite generous of journalists to get reimbursed for train travel expenses, but the boss actually wants to provide a private jet for the journalist?

The United States doesn't even have a large-scale commercial passenger airline yet; they themselves don't even have the opportunity to fly!
"Boss! Think it over!" "This is too extravagant! The operating costs are too high!"

"Which reporter doesn't rely solely on their own two legs, getting their boots covered in mud? There's no need to treat them so well, is there?"

The editors all tried to dissuade him, feeling that the boss's idea was too far-fetched and a complete waste of money.

While the boss is right, one of the biggest differences between large and small newspapers is that the former has its own nationwide network and resources, while the latter has a very weak ability to independently gather news from across the country.

One editor suggested, "We've already learned from The New York Times and The Washington Post, setting up bureaus or dedicated reporters in major cities across the country to cover significant events in those areas, which is generally sufficient."

"Yes, now we can maintain close contact with headquarters and send reports via long-distance telephone, which is much more efficient than the previous telegram-only interaction!" an editor who used to be a reporter said sarcastically.

Even Richard had no idea what Logan had suddenly gone crazy about. "Even the physical movement of reporters from major newspapers relies on the country's extensive railway network. At most, they have contracted dedicated train carriages for their reporting teams on major events. Let's get a dedicated carriage too."

Of course, unless it happens locally, even the most important news won't be considered timely by the time it reaches readers.

However, compared to most newspapers that rely on subscribing to other local newspapers to gather information on the progress of an event, this is already quite timely!
Logan listened to everyone's objections, slowly took a sip of coffee, and then casually said, "Oh, it's like this, my boss is also a part-time reporter for the newspaper, and he often goes out to cover news. It's so inconvenient without a plane."

"Besides, this is the newspaper's private jet, not just for reporters. As editors, you can use it when you travel to distant places!"

Ah this...

"Boss! Your suggestion is incredibly visionary!"

"That's right! Timeliness is key in news reporting! Only by offering something unique can we create high-quality content!"

"Our reporters are our newspaper's most valuable asset! Providing them with the best transportation is absolutely worthwhile!"

The editors didn't even need to exchange glances; as if they had rehearsed it, their attitudes all underwent a complete 180-degree turn!
Richard gave the group of opportunistic sycophants a disdainful look and pressed, "Is the safety of the aircraft guaranteed?"

Logan came prepared: "The safest aircraft in America are government-owned and operated airmail planes, for which safety is a top priority."

"The safety plan includes stringent pilot selection criteria and regular medical examinations, as well as a rigorous aircraft inspection mechanism. After almost every flight, operators are required to perform a checklist of 180 items..."

“Most importantly, aircraft maintenance work is concentrated in Chicago, so we can easily poach people.”

Although the safest mail airliner currently has a crash rate of only 1 death per 5000 flights, it is incomparable to the 1 accident per million flights in later generations.

However, unless one avoids long-distance travel, the rate of car accidents in those days was significantly higher than in later generations.

Given that Europe already has civilian passenger flights and enough passengers are willing to choose air travel as their mode of transportation, it is clear that its safety is acceptable.

Since Logan has already considered this, let's buy it.

To be honest, buying an airplane these days isn't much harder than buying a car—after the war, a large number of bombers or seaplanes were converted into passenger planes, and three days after Logan made his decision, two 14-seat passenger planes converted from F-5L seaplanes were registered under the newspaper's name.

But the special plane's first flight wasn't for making the news, but rather... "rescuing people"!
Just as everyone at the newspaper was still buzzing about this "new toy," an urgent telegram was delivered to Logan's desk.

"Help! Help me! — Donald"

Logan: ?
……

　Logan: I really need to learn how to fly a plane, so I can parachute out immediately if there's a crash!
　　
　
(End of this chapter)