It was half past ten on that dark night in September, and most of Broward County was hunkered behind locked doors, awaiting the expected onslaught of Hurricane Georges. As the winds brought the first sheets of rain ashore, a skinny, raggedy figure stood alone on the median of Broward Boulevard. He was dressed in a jacket and ball cap, and in his hand was a newspaper. "How ya doin' there. Paper for ya?" he greeted the driver of the only car in sight. "What paper?" the driver wanted to know. "Today's paper," the man replied, grinning wryly through the rain. "Late edition." As if it mattered; as always, the man was already sliding the paper onto the dashboard. "Hey, wait, I don't have any change on me," the driver countered. "And what the hell are you doing here anyway? There's a hurricane coming." The man stepped back: "Don't worry 'bout it. Got papers to sell, ya know. Take care of me next time." Thus Richard Ferris, nighttime news-hawker of Broward Boulevard and Federal Highway, concluded another successful sale.