Time

You will keep hiring 
picadors
from the back row
and pic the bull back
far along his spine
you will slam sandbags
to the kidneys 
and pass awine
poisoned on the vine
you will saw the horns off
and murmur
the bulls are
ah
the bulls are not 
what once they were
The corrida will end 
with Russians in the plaza
Swine, some of you will say
what did we wrong?
And go forth to kiss the conquerors

Norman Mailer
New York City, 1962

Be specific.

Be impersonal.

Appear to be fair.

Be not redundant.

Reduce to lowest terms.

You cannot be too obvious. 

- Guidelines from one of TIME’s earliest style guides from co-founders Britton Hadden and Henry Luce. (Though we’ve certainly come a long way in the personality department since the 1920s…)

“It was the photographer who got me worried. We’d met in the waiting room at Hong Kong’s Queen Mary Hospital—there to interview the local scientists who had identified the virus causing SARS—and he was regaling me with tales of his time dodging Taliban bullets. But when we walked into the laboratory, the hardened war photographer started getting nervous. Was there virus on the walls, on the seat, in the air? Was it safe here? Were we all going to die?

That’s how the staff of TIME in Hong Kong was thinking in those first few weeks of the SARS outbreak in the spring of 2003, when our city—the home base for TIME’s Asia edition—became ground zero for the first new infectious disease of the 21st century. Our editor Karl Greenfeld—who would go onto write a book on SARS called China Syndrome—became obsessed with the virus, and when your boss becomes obsessed with something, it behooves you to become obsessed it, too.

So we found ourselves wearing surgical masks around the office—which turned edit meetings into charade sessions—and stocking up on disinfectant. Expats who could afford to their send families away did so. Hong Kong became a ghost city, the usually thronged airport empty. The Rolling Stones cancelled on us, and so did DJ Shadow. On the plus side, you could get a table at any restaurant in the city, and I got my landlord to cut my rent by 50%. Outbreak discount. 

Personally, I loved SARS. It’s still the most fun I ever had as a journalist—tracking outbreaks and peering at the virus through electron microscopes. That reporting made me a science writer—and it also helped me in the office’s daily pools, when we’d bet on how many new SARS cases would be announced each evening. Price is Right-style—nearest to the mark without going over.

Of course, it turned out the masks wouldn’t have stopped a cold—once you’ve worn them for an hour or so, they become so moist that any microbe can slip through the barrier. But maybe they helped us feel a bit safer. TIME did amazing work during SARS—our Beijing reporters Susan Jakes and Matthew Forney discovered that China was covering up its SARS cases. But if things had gotten really bad—as bad as they do in the movie Contagion—we would have been reporting our own obituaries.”

There’s something to be said for an 88-year-old with a Tumblr account. 

Since 1923, TIME has reported the world’s history and somewhere along the way, we became a part of it. TIME co-founder Henry Luce once said, “I became a journalist to come as close as possible to the heart of the world.” Well, we created this Tumblr to show you just how intertwined to that world’s society – past and present – TIME has actually become.

Thousands of icons have appeared between our signature red border, and while we’ll pull our vintage issues out of the archives for display, we also hope to bring you the story behind their stories. From letters to the editors signed by presidents, to our staff’s own compelling account of the work we’ve become so proud of, we’d like to show you the other side of TIME magazine. Our side.

This is our scrapbook, of sorts, and we can’t wait to share it with you.

- The editors