Blood\u00ad\u00ad<\/b><\/p>\n
By Robert J. Marton<\/b><\/p>\n
Thomas Carroll was home sick that day. Otherwise, he would never have missed the biggest story ever to hit town.<\/p>\n
It was Alice Landers\u2019 first day on the job as a reporter for the Mayefield Messenger, a day she would never forget \u2013 the day the presidential candidate bled all over her.<\/p>\n
For one day in the spring of the early 1970\u2019s, Mayefield became the national center of attention and an historical footnote as a place where a gunman tried to alter the landscape of American history.<\/p>\n
It was a Monday, one of the busiest days of the week for a weekly newspaper, which was printed on Wednesday and circulated on Thursday.\u00a0 A reporter really could not afford to miss work on a Monday or Tuesday, and this Monday was the first one Thomas had ever missed in his five years at the Messenger.\u00a0 But he had a high temperature and multiple flu symptoms, and was unable to venture far from his bed.<\/p>\n
Main Street on a Monday morning:\u00a0 Traffic started about six o\u2019clock as commuters headed to the highway out of the town or to the train station at the end of Main.\u00a0 Parking spaces began to fill up around eight as office and shop workers arrived to start the week.\u00a0 By nine, parking on the street was at a premium.<\/p>\n
After parking a block away, Alice Landers arrived at the Messenger\u2019s Main Street office this Monday morning, ready to begin her small-town journalism career.\u00a0 The weather was sunny and cool.\u00a0 The forecast was for clouds and showers later in the day, but the morning was one of great promise.<\/span><\/p>\n In the three years since her college graduation, Alice worked as an intern on metropolitan dailies in two large cities.\u00a0 The violence she encountered on city streets \u2013shootings, knifings, rapes and assaults– terrified her.\u00a0 She could not stand the blood.\u00a0\u00a0 Her mother wanted Alice to come back to her hometown in Ohio.\u00a0 There was a job teaching English and Reading at the Grant Avenue School which she could have for the asking, but she wanted to be a journalist, albeit a kinder and gentler one than the big city dailies required.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She was excited to answer the Messenger\u2019s advertisement for a reporter.\u00a0 Mayefield appeared to be a quaint and old-fashioned town, and the Messenger itself seemed to reflect the town\u2019s peaceful aura.\u00a0 She was interviewed by the publisher, Hyatt Maye, and the editor, Sarah Mencken.\u00a0 Alice saw them as a cute elderly couple, pleasantly reminiscent of an earlier time, running a mom and pop small town newspaper.<\/p>\n Alice expected a typical first day on the job, one of orientation, training and familiarization.\u00a0 She needed to learn how things worked here.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t even know the town, although it was fairly small and easy to get around.\u00a0 She was totally unprepared for this reaction when she walked through the door:<\/p>\n \u201cThank God you\u2019re here,\u201d exclaimed Sarah Mencken.\u00a0 \u201cThomas is sick and we need you to cover the Willie Blount speech.\u00a0 He\u2019s speaking at the shopping center at three o\u2019clock.\u00a0 Take that desk over there.\u00a0 Call the town police department and find out their plans.\u00a0 Call the county police.\u00a0 Call the fire department and see if they\u2019re having people there.\u201d<\/p>\n Thus began Alice\u2019s day of complete chaos.\u00a0 Throughout the morning, she consulted with the town, county and state police to find out the security arrangements, which were going to be very tight.\u00a0 She made calls to Blount\u2019s state campaign headquarters to learn the plans for this afternoon\u2019s activities and background on the candidate\u2019s positions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She also recalled as best she could the historical context of the story she was about to become part of:<\/span><\/p>\n As the nation transitioned from the 1960\u2019s to the 70\u2019s, the Democratic Party was in a state of disarray.\u00a0 The Republican sitting president had yet to become ensconced in the scandal that eventually would force him from office, so he had no real challengers within his party and was a favorite to win reelection.\u00a0 Southern Democratic conservatives, who would, in later years, bolt to the Republican side, loudly and aggressively rallied around the final remnants of the old South \u2013 states\u2019 rights versus federalism, which was a polite and political way of challenging the federal government\u2019s mandates of full racial integration.<\/span><\/p>\n The Southern contingent of the Democratic Party was led by Willie Blount, governor of Mississippi.\u00a0 He claimed national attention in the 1960\u2019s as he blocked the path of five black children who attempted, with the aid of federal marshals, to integrate an elementary school in the state capitol.\u00a0 Blount made a huge show of defiance for the benefit of the news cameras, and then allowed the state police to gently move him aside to avoid arrest by the marshals, as he loudly proclaimed the mantra of another Southern governor:\u00a0 \u201cSegregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.”\u00a0 Blount became a symbol of Southern rebellion with a message of continued segregation which resounded throughout the country.\u00a0 He gained many sympathizers even far outside his Southern base.<\/span><\/p>\n Blount had been a candidate for the Democratic presidential nomination twice before, but his momentum was now at a peak. He staged a nationwide speaking tour that May in conjunction with Democratic primary elections.\u00a0 A stop was scheduled for Mayefield today.<\/span><\/p>\n The morning hours in the office passed quickly, and before Alice knew it, it was two o\u2019clock, time to leave for the event.<\/span><\/p>\n At first, she drove in the wrong direction.\u00a0 After turning around and righting her course, she missed the sign for the shopping center and rode past it.\u00a0 When she finally arrived at the right place, she encountered spectators milling about inside a large cordoned-off area of the parking lot.\u00a0 It was mostly a white crowd, a mix of ages, a few wearing \u201cBlount for President\u201d campaign buttons. They almost totally ignored the warm-up musical entertainment, country and western singer Billy Grammer and his three sidemen.<\/span><\/p>\n Alice couldn\u2019t locate a press area, so she just wandered through the crowd, which she estimated to be about 2,000.\u00a0 She spoke to a few people, gathering quotes on why they were there (mostly \u201ccuriosity,\u201d they said).\u00a0 Sprinkled throughout, as well as on the perimeter and on the roofs of stores, were police from various departments, Secret Service men (their ear phones gave them away) and what she assumed were Blount\u2019s own bodyguards.\u00a0 As three o\u2019clock approached, she found a spot in front of a specially erected stage with a bulletproof podium.<\/span><\/p>\n The band played \u201cGotta Travel On\u201d and \u201cDetroitCity,\u201d then broke into a spirited version of \u201cDixie.\u201d\u00a0 Blount bounded out on the stage, smiling, with his customary \u201cHi, folks!\u201d\u00a0 The spectators cheered with approval. Alice felt a sensation new to her:\u00a0 a combination of Southern charm and danger, as Blount connected with a friendly crowd that was closely watched by heavily armed policemen.\u00a0 But the danger didn\u2019t seem real \u2013 this was a suburban, orderly crowd, far different from the scary, always ready-to-erupt urban environments she had left behind.<\/span><\/p>\n Although she had never heard him speak before, she felt Blount was not at his best that day.\u00a0 His voice cracked as he delivered his standard line about \u201cthose pointy-headed intellectuals who can\u2019t park their bicycles straight.\u201d\u00a0 She had no idea what that meant, but it clearly resonated with the enthusiastic onlookers.<\/span><\/p>\n Blount railed on against “social schemers” and “ultra- false liberals.” He advised the folks to vote in the primary “to shake the eyeteeth of the Democratic Party. Let’s give ’em the St. Vitus dance. And tell ’em a vote for Willie Blount is a vote for the average citizen.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Alice could feel the crowd pushing against her, inching closer to the front. A man directly behind her kept leaning forward, accidentally (she assumed) bumping her shoulder as he yelled, \u201cOver here, Willie, Over here.\u201d\u00a0 The shoving and yelling made it difficult for her take notes. She glanced back at him and noticed he was wearing a red and white shirt and blue trousers, matching the draping on Blount\u2019s podium.\u00a0 She guessed he was probably part of the campaign staff.<\/span><\/p>\n After about an hour, Blount wrapped up his comments to loud applause.\u00a0 Billy Grammer and his band began to play \u201cUnder the Double Eagle\u201d as Blount walked down the steps from the stage to shake hands with fans. The crowd surged forward, including the man behind Alice who shoved her forward and lunged toward the candidate.<\/span><\/p>\n What happened next seemed unreal.\u00a0 As Blount went from person to person with his usual \u201cNice to see ya,\u201d Alice heard the sounds she hoped she would never hear again, the sounds that drove her from the city beat.\u00a0 The \u201cred, white and blue\u201d young man leaped ahead, stuck his arm forward toward the candidate and fired five bullets from a revolver.\u00a0 Security men immediately wrestled him to the ground, knocking Alice down at the same time.\u00a0 The gun skidded along the pavement and almost hit her forehead.<\/span><\/p>\n People screamed. Alice rose to her feet, barely noticing the blood splatters on her white blouse, and moved forward to observe what was happening.\u00a0 Blount was still lying on the asphalt, bleeding from his chest and right arm.\u00a0 Several others, one appearing to be a Mississippi state trooper, also were wounded.\u00a0 An elderly man whom Alice assumed was a doctor was going from victim to victim, offering whatever assistance he could.\u00a0 She could hear the whine of the sirens in the distance.<\/span><\/p>\n Alice couldn\u2019t conduct any interviews in the chaos.\u00a0 The best she could do was watch and scribble notes.\u00a0 An ambulance arrived after about 10 minutes \u2013although it seemed like forever\u2014and Blount was taken to the closest hospital, 20 miles away.\u00a0 Alice noticed that the shooter was nowhere to be seen, she must have missed the police take him away.\u00a0 She tried to get quotes from some of the confused spectators, spent a few minutes interviewing the elderly doctor, and attempted unsuccessfully to gain some useful information from the police on the scene.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Eventually the crowd dispersed and the police cordoned off the scene. Alice retrieved her car and returned to the office on Main Street.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cOh, my God, dear, we were so worried,\u201d Sarah exclaimed as Alice reentered the office.\u00a0 \u201cYour first day on the job, how awful.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cBlood!\u00a0 You have blood on your blouse.\u00a0 Is that <\/span>his <\/i>blood?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n At that moment, Sarah looked and sounded so much like her mother, Alice was tempted to run to her for a hug, a temptation she was later very happy she resisted.\u00a0 Instead she maintained her composure.\u00a0 \u201cLet\u2019s get to work,\u201d she said.\u00a0 \u201cHow do you want to handle this thing?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n At his home on Maple Drive, Thomas dressed quickly after viewing the television news of the shooting.\u00a0 This was the BIG story he had dreamed of for years, and he had missed it.\u00a0 But he knew the Messenger staff would need him.\u00a0 He arrived at the office, ready for work, just after Alice did.<\/span><\/p>\n By six o\u2019clock the calls had started coming in:\u00a0 from Time magazine, the Associated Press and NBC, among others.\u00a0 These news outlets had run out of facts once past the original reports, and were desperate for more.\u00a0 Hyatt Maye answered the calls himself, primarily giving background information about the town but little of any value.\u00a0 He was saving the good stuff for the Messenger (not that he personally knew much of value to share).<\/span><\/p>\n After much debate, the staff decided Alice should write a first-person account as well as the main news story.\u00a0 She had a perspective no other paper could offer.\u00a0 She had been so close to the action; in fact, came away with the victim\u2019s blood on her blouse.\u00a0 The blood upset her so much she shook whenever she thought of it, but she was not about to pass up this unique journalistic opportunity.\u00a0 Hyatt and Sarah originally voted against her doing a first person story \u2013 the Messenger seldom did analysis or commentary, they said \u2013 but she perceived that jealously over the visibility of her rookie assignment, especially from Sarah, was part of the reason.\u00a0 But Thomas was adamant that the eyewitness account had to be done.\u00a0 \u201cWe have a story no one else has,\u201d he insisted.\u00a0 \u201cThe whole country will be watching us.\u00a0 Let\u2019s show them we really know what we\u2019re doing.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He pointed to Alice:\u00a0 \u201cBesides, look at the blood all over her.\u00a0 That\u2019s every reporter\u2019s dream.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Alice went to the ladies room and threw up.<\/span><\/p>\n So Alice, Thomas and Sarah collaborated on comprehensive coverage of the biggest news story ever to hit Mayefield. Thomas took the background and local interview assignments. Alice worked on the news story itself and her first-person sidebar, but Thomas helped her gain access to local police, rescue and medical officials.\u00a0 As the Messenger\u2019s true editor (Hyatt was editor in title only), Sarah coordinated the overall coverage, edited copy, and chose photographs from the many submitted by local freelancers and residents.<\/span><\/p>\n They had both a challenge and an advantage.\u00a0 Their challenge:\u00a0 The Messenger had to print more than just \u201cthe facts\u201d \u2013 the facts were already being reported on the television news and would be highlighted in Tuesday\u2019s daily newspapers.\u00a0\u00a0 They had to have fresh information that had not already been reported in other venues.\u00a0 Their advantage:\u00a0 The shooting occurred on a Monday, and the Messenger would not be printed until Wednesday.\u00a0 They had an extra day to develop background stories on the victims and shooter, interview local eyewitnesses and get updated information on Blount\u2019s medical condition.<\/span><\/p>\n Hyatt strutted around the office, barking orders and demanding constant updates.\u00a0 Alice quickly observed that Sarah and Thomas ignored him, so she tuned him out and charged ahead with her work.<\/p>\n Although still weak from the flu, Thomas wrote all the non-shooting copy that would make up that week\u2019s issue, allowing Alice and Sarah to concentrate on the Blount coverage.<\/p>\n They worked until after midnight, went home and slept for a few hours, then resumed again at eight o\u2019clock Tuesday.\u00a0 By Tuesday evening, when the final copy was picked up by the printing courier, the exhausted team had produced the finest issue in the Messenger history.\u00a0 Alice, Sarah and Thomas drove to the printing plant \u201310 miles away\u2014Wednesday morning to paste up the final copy and supervise production.\u00a0 Normally they returned to Mayfield as soon as the paper began printing, but on this special week, they waited for the first copies to come off the press.\u00a0 Holding the still-moist paper staining their hands black, they marveled at the banner headline:<\/span><\/p>\n Gov. Blount Is Shot, Legs Paralyzed; Suspect Seized at Mayfield Rally<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n Below the fold, Alice\u2019s first person story appeared:<\/p>\n A First Day on the Job to Remember<\/b><\/p>\n By Alice Landers<\/p>\n Mayefield Messenger Staff Writer<\/p>\n \u00a0I expected my first day on the job as a Messenger reporter to be uneventful.\u00a0 At the very most, I thought I might cover a public meeting.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0I sure was mistaken.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0As a metro reporter before coming to Mayefield, I had encountered plenty of crime and violence.\u00a0 But today was different.\u00a0 This was no random act, no petty crime.<\/em><\/p>\n I came here to cover news, but instead I became an eyewitness to history.\u00a0 What happened this week may change the course of American politics. Whether you liked or disliked Governor Blount, you have to acknowledge he was a significant presence in this year\u2019s election.\u00a0 But he may not be any longer.<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n Would he have won? There is no way to predict, but now, someone else may have to fill the void.\u00a0 Will he be better, or worse?<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0My experience this week had a very personal side to it.\u00a0 In addition to observing history, I had an opportunity to see and meet a group of people \u2013the people of Mayefield\u2014as they subdued the shooter and offered aid and comfort to those injured.\u00a0 And I must have been quite a sight as I scurried around the scene with Governor Blount\u2019s blood on my blouse, because I received numerous calls that evening inquiring about my well being.\u00a0 Calls from caring strangers, whom I hope will become my friends.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0I may never again experience history in the making, but I\u2019m sure I will again experience the kindness of the people of Mayefield.<\/em><\/p>\n \u00a0I think I\u2019m going to like it here.<\/em><\/p>\n Thomas wanted to title the story, \u201cHis Blood on My Blouse,\u201d but Sarah and Hyatt refused (not understanding he was only kidding).<\/p>\n The issue sold out Wednesday and was reprinted Thursday.\u00a0 Again it sold out.\u00a0 Alice sent copies to her mother and many of her friends.\u00a0 It was her best work and she was justifiably proud.\u00a0 Hyatt let her take off Thursday and Friday, which she used to catch up on sleep and her laundry (although she didn\u2019t try to wash the bloodstains from her blouse \u2013 it became a souvenir).\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Alice began her second week on the job on a beautiful spring Monday morning.\u00a0 The Blount shooting was behind her \u2013the story had been milked and there was nothing left to tell.\u00a0 It was old news.\u00a0 She was looking forward to getting into the small town routine: no more assassination attempts, no national attention, and no blood.\u00a0\u00a0 Over the next few weeks, she covered town council and school board meetings, a local church play, covered two auto accidents (Hyatt loved to put pictures of car wrecks on the front page), and wrote several wedding announcements.<\/span><\/p>\n She was finally doing the job she wanted to do. She envisioned a new life in Mayefield.\u00a0 She could find an apartment in town, maybe even on Main Street so she could walk to work.\u00a0 The people were friendly.\u00a0 She supposed there were other single people she could meet and socialize with.\u00a0 She had been planning to start attending Mass more regularly, and the old stone Catholic Church at the end of Main Street seemed comfortable and inviting. Mayefield had possibilities for the future.<\/span><\/p>\n Then the call came.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n It was her fourth week on the job, an early Tuesday morning.\u00a0 Thomas was out interviewing local farmers about the crop forecasts for the summer.\u00a0 Alice took the call.\u00a0 A dead body had been found just a block off Main Street behind a furniture warehouse.\u00a0 The police believed it was a suicide.<\/span><\/p>\n Alice walked shakily down to the scene, showed her press identification to a town policeman and moved as close in as the police would allow.\u00a0 The body had already been taken away, but the blood remained:\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Blood on the grass.<\/span><\/p>\n Blood on the windows.<\/span><\/p>\n Blood on the white wall.<\/span><\/p>\n The police were not saying much, but Alice approached an older man, standing away from the crowd, and asked, \u201cSir, do you know who he was?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The man glanced at her, almost sadly.\u00a0 \u201cYou a reporter? I probably shouldn\u2019t speak to you\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n His voice trailed off before he began to haltingly speak again.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI guess it\u2019s ok, you probably won\u2019t print it anyway.\u00a0 He was my daughter\u2019s boyfriend.\u00a0 They called him \u2018J.J.\u2019 His real name was James Jansen.\u00a0 My daughter is Helen.\u00a0 She\u2019s home, crying in her room.\u00a0 My wife is with her.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat boy really loved her.\u00a0 He believed he could not live without her \u2026 he told her that all the time.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n “They went together for about a year.\u00a0 It seems like they were always together. Before school, during school\u2026 after school. They went to Mayefield High\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n The man looked around for a moment, as if seeing if anyone else was listening.\u00a0 They weren\u2019t; everyone else was still focused on the police activity.\u00a0 He continued:<\/p>\n \u201cBut it seemed to be more intense for J.J. then for Helen.\u00a0 I think the whole thing started to cool for her.\u00a0 They were seniors \u2013 J.J. was already talking about marriage right after graduation. Helen wanted to go to college.\u00a0 Her mother and I wanted her to go too.<\/p>\n \u201cI think she felt smothered. A lifetime as a small town wife and mother was the last thing she wants.\u00a0 We felt the same way.\u00a0 We liked J.J., but we want a different life for her.\u00a0 She\u2019s so smart, has so much potential.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cDid they talk about the future?\u201d Alice asked.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cToo much, I think,\u201d the old man replied.\u00a0 \u201cI heard them talk about being together \u2026 and apart.\u00a0 But J.J. wouldn\u2019t accept any other answer than what he wanted.\u00a0 The other night, I overhead him say, \u2018If you leave me, I\u2019ll kill myself.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWe never thought he would really do it,\u201d he said quietly.<\/span><\/p>\n Last night, J.J. left Helen\u2019s home in tears \u2013 she emphatically broke off their relationship that night\u2014and stumbled almost drunkenly down toward the river.\u00a0 He had hidden a shotgun in the bushes behind the furniture company warehouse at the top of the riverbank. He retrieved the shotgun, placed the barrel against his forehead, and pulled the trigger.<\/span><\/p>\n What had once been the bone, tissue and blood of J.J.\u2019s brain was now a spattered mess on the whitewashed warehouse wall.<\/span><\/p>\n Alice listened to the story.\u00a0 She had no way of knowing how much of the old man\u2019s tale was really true, but it really didn\u2019t matter.\u00a0 The Messenger would not print this private version. She would get the facts from the official police report and quotes from a police spokesman.\u00a0 She took a few pictures of the bloody scene, but doubted very much if any of the gruesome pictures would actually appear in the paper.<\/span><\/p>\n Alice returned to the office and wrote as much of the story as she could.\u00a0 She told Sarah she was ill and had to leave for the day.\u00a0 She called in sick Friday.<\/span><\/p>\n There were only two shootings reported in Mayefield that year \u2013the assassination attempt on Willie Blount and J.J.\u2019s suicide– both occurring in the same month. But two were more than Alice could tolerate.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t even give the usual two weeks notice.\u00a0 When Hyatt and Sarah opened the Messenger office the next Monday morning, an envelope had been slipped under the door.\u00a0 Inside was a note:<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u00a0 I can\u2019t stand it.\u00a0 There is too much blood here.\u00a0 Forgive me.\u00a0 Alice\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Alice\u2019s story ended here, but the results of the bloodshed did not.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Willie Blount never ran for political office again.\u00a0 He was bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.<\/span><\/p>\n The bloodstain on the whitewashed wall seemed never to go away.\u00a0 Years after J.J. blew his brains all over the wall because Helen didn\u2019t love him anymore, the stain remained.\u00a0 Or was it just a rust stain?\u00a0 No one was really sure, but the permanent bloodstain made for a better story.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n (Robert J. Marton)<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Blood\u00ad\u00ad By Robert J. Marton Thomas Carroll was home sick that day. Otherwise, he would never have missed the biggest story ever to hit town.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":197,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8\/revisions\/197"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.robertmarton.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}