Story behind ice storm stories (1/12/05)

What does the boss do when his employees look at him as if he has lost his mind?

That’s the question I was faced with Thursday morning, standing in the dark and chilling offices of the newspaper in Portland. At that early hour, only a handful of employees had made it in.

But it was a pretty remarkable handful. Pressman Brian Dodd had driven all the way from Daleville because we had been scheduled to unload a truck of newsprint that morning. He didn’t see a single electric light burning during the whole drive to work. Classified advertising representative Helen Rouch was there, even though there was no way to take a classified ad; instead, she showed up with a pot of coffee, thanks to a generator at home.

Huddled together in the dark, they looked more than skeptical when I started talking about getting the paper out.

No power. No hope for power soon. Their look told me they thought I needed to get a better grip on reality.

But then a few pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

First, I used my wife’s cell phone to try to find an operating printing press. Our usual back-up is Winchester; we printed their paper a few months back when they had press problems. But they had no power either.

The next call was to my old friend Frank Snyder in Celina. His father, Parker, and my dad had been cronies; and Frank and I have known each other since childhood.

The huddled group was only slightly less dubious when I returned to say I’d found a press.

Earlier, I’d gone looking for a generator. But Mayor Bruce Hosier told me he thought that Community Home Improvement had sold its last one Wednesday afternoon and was awaiting a new shipment.

I decided to take a leap. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.

Walking into Mayor Hosier’s morning meeting with his department heads, I asked if there was some space in one of the city’s generator-powered buildings where we could set up an emergency newsroom on a temporary basis. The hands of more than one department head shot up, ready to help.

At the urging of Police Chief Bob Sours, we soon took over a conference room on the second floor of city hall.

With local electricity and a place to print, the employee skepticism evaporated. Suddenly, it was all systems go, although everyone had to discover new roles and new ways of getting the job done.

People whose regular jobs had been upended and interrupted by the power outage grabbed new chores and offered to help. Commercial printing manager Carl Ronald soon found that his new job was as technical support for the temporary newsroom. Sports editor Ray Cooney, with no sports to report on, was suddenly a photographer and photo editor.

It was a clumsy process. With just two computers in place that first day, people stood in line to write, then stood in line to edit, then stood in line to work with photographs and build pages.

But we got out an abbreviated four page edition and soon were flying to Celina.

There, Frank’s staff greeted us like family, doing everything possible to get the paper printed and in the van headed back to Portland.

It was only slightly easier Friday, when three more laptops eased the computer crunch but the generator at city hall began to overheat. During one two-hour period, the news staff was only able to work about 20 minutes, and that came in chunks of three or four minutes at a time.

Managing editor Barbara Wilkinson, news editor Mike Snyder, sports editor Ray Cooney, and reporters Jennifer Tarter and Rachelle Haughn did a whale of a job.

Was it perfect? Of course not. And there were still enormous hurdles involved in getting the papers delivered. Some folks didn’t see the Thursday edition until days later because of downed trees and blocked roads.

But the important thing, it seems to me, is that the job got done.[[In-content Ad]]