Electricity permeates the air. Not the electricity generated by motors, but the dynamic kind that emanates from the compressed excitement of humanity. Bustling, shoving, yelling newspapermen and women clutter desks and makeshift tables, getting in each other’s way, talking, laughing, joking and getting sore at each other. Bustling without a purpose, because actually everyone is marking time. The Zep had already passed over the field. But any moment now, she will be back. We have had the pleasure of being in on many important happenings which are featured on the front page of our dailies. Probably none of our experiences are quite so novel as that of writing the arrival of the Graf Zeppelin.