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Perhaps their unity stems from a common vice. Former employees of several of the newspapers tell stories of circulation boosts made to please national advertisers, and of reductions in times of high newsprint costs. "I know of one paper that claims a circulation of 40,000. I only say that I print 15,000--and I know I print more papers than they do," Enrique Gomez declares. The seven publishers all admit, or charge, that among their number there are some whose circulation claims aren't reliable--but none will finger any of the others. They have all survived, even prospered, despite defections and spin-offs, and none believes that he can force the others to the sidelines. "Even El Sol is today part of an avalanche," publisher Santillan observes.
But their mutual admiration, even if it's sincere, is strategic as well. All of the weeklies do much of their distribution through six-, eight-, and ten-rack newsstands whose ownership is now confused. "We've lost count of the number of racks we own," Juan Silva confesses. The racks, with multiple shelves, are scattered at grocery stores, restaurants, beauty shops, and dance halls across the Metroplex--and they are shared by all the papers alike. Antonio Torres says that he brings out his weekly on Fridays, instead of Wednesday or Thursday, so that nobody will place another newspaper on top of El Heraldo. But generally speaking, sharing rack space has created a business state of coexistence.If do-or-die competition ever overtakes the Hispanic press, grocers and waiters will be the first to know.