Since it’s getting toward the best part of baseball season over in the U.S., the blurb that intrigued us the most on this cover was the final one, telling us that Tito Francona-father of current Boston Red Sox manager Terry Francona-was somehow involved in solving a murder.
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National Informer and its sister publication National Informer Weekly Reader were dead by 1974.īut I didn’t steal the money, I swear-it was a bailout.Ībove is an August 1962 Master Detective with great cover art of a lady in red being taken into custody, and clearly this isn’t a Wall Street bank she works at, because at those taxpayers’ money is free for the taking. But more explicitness did not bring more readership, as far as we can tell. Hugh Hefner’s Playboy had obliterated America's already battered pubic hair barrier in 1971 and Informer followed in its wake. In a tabloid sea where old battleships like Gazette and Confidential couldn’t turn quickly when the weather changed, Informer was a mere speedboat. But Informer had a shorter history, a smaller audience, and a lower budget. Even the venerable National Police Gazette, which had begun publishing lifetimes earlier, in 1845, died during the seventies. All the old school tabloids were taking a beating.
Clearly the move was meant to boost readership, but it didn’t work. Of course, this shift from commie-baiting to masturbating meant abandoning a rightward leaning readership for a leftward leaning one. In our issues from 1966 to 1968, you get alarmist political journalism, which by the 1970s becomes drooling quasi-smut, as we see in this issue that first hit newsstands today in 1972. Our copies of National Informer span a time during which the paper was transitioning from typical tabloid to sex magazine. Walking on air, fairest of the fair, there she is… Miss Nude America.