Block · one region of the page, as the scanner read it. It may hold a whole story, part of one, several, or an advertisement; stitching blocks into articles is the next step. Text is supplied OCR.
Page 3 · column 5 of 9 · from the scan, no model involved
We were back in the motel rooms before nine. The kids pulled out tape players that had been banned on the buses and plugged in radios to send their favorite hits echoing into the hall. Like hordes of army ants, they descended on the first floor soda and snack machines.
It didn’t take long. In only an hour, little red lights began to blink “selection out" as the stock of Pepsi, orange, grape, root beer, cookies, candy and crackers disappeared.
We chaperones stationed ourselves where the action was and set up a table in the hall for bridge just a door away from the refreshment center. Once the snack machines were emptied, ice was the only excuse the boys had to leave their segregated quarters upstairs for a trip down to the girls’ floor. The rate of consumption was staggering. They ate enough ice to turn their insides into deep freezes. Judging by the parade for bucket after bucket, an observer would have guessed it was the middle of summer and 110 degrees instead of the end of January.
At 11 p.m., fights went out. The kids settled down quickly. Occasionally, a head would pop out the door to check, I suppose, if those grown-ups were still watching. We were and the heads drew back in just as fast. All was quiet in the girls’ hall by a little after midnight and we followed the kids into the sack. As an old
94.0%