‘MacGyver’ solution saved paper

Editor’s note: This column is being reprinted from Nov. 4, 2015. The story Jack tells in this piece led to us buying an oven for backup in such emergency circumstances. That oven went out the door this week, sold to an employee after we invested in new platemaking technology a year ago. With the announcement of our purchase of the Winchester newspaper this week, it seemed the right column to run to illustrate our commitment to doing whatever it takes to get the job done.



The phone call came just as I was finishing a late dinner.

It was Friday night, and Brian Dodd — the daily newspaper’s production manager — was on the phone.

“You know I wouldn’t phone you unless it was bad,” said Brian. “It’s bad.”

About three years ago, the company installed a computer-to-plate unit, also known as a CTP. For the most part, it’s been a huge plus in terms of cutting production time and controlling costs.

Essentially, it’s a very big laserprinter, with a Hewlett-Packard engine at its core. But instead of putting down toner on paper, it lays down toner on an aluminum plate that’s been chemically treated. The plate then is moved to the lower part of the unit where a conveyor carries it through an oven that cures and hardens the toner so the image won’t get lost when the plate goes onto the press.

That sounds complicated, but it’s really pretty straightforward.

Trouble is, that piece of equipment is essential to getting the newspaper out.

“It’s down,” said Brian.

Two bites later, and I was on my way to the office.

Brian had been making plates for the Winchester newspaper when the CTP unit stumbled. Winchester had encountered an equipment failure of its own, and under the good-neighbor-policy most newspapers maintain, we were stepping in to help them out. That’s what we would expect them to do for us in similar circumstances.

It’s a kind of mutual-aid understanding similar to those among volunteer fire departments. If Winchester or Bluffton or Celina had a problem, we would back them up, and they’d do the same for us.

When I got to the office, Brian was already talking with Ray Cooney about the problem. Ray had taken some trick-or-treat pictures and had been downloading the images when things went sour.

At my suggestion, Brian had already attempted to reach The Daily Standard in Celina but hadn’t gotten a hold of anybody. Every newspaper has its own particular production schedule, and we don’t fit together like interchangeable parts.

The guy from Winchester — still needing to finish plates for his own press run — had already headed out for another newspaper, roughly four hours away.

The potential for things to get very ugly very quickly couldn’t be denied.

But as the three of us stood there, we suddenly reached inside and found our inner MacGyvers.

So, I asked Brian, the CTP unit is laying down the image just fine, right? It’s just that the oven underneath isn’t working, right?

Right, he said.

What’s the temperature needed to cure the plate? I asked.

Brian checked the specs and gave me a temperature in Celsius. I asked Siri on my iPhone what that was in Fahrenheit. The answer was 525 degrees.

“That’s a broiler,” said Brian, who is an accomplished grill chef and tailgater extraordinaire on weekends.

I called home and surprised my wife with a question.

“What’s the exact width of our oven’s opening?”

“24 inches.”

The width of a plate for Saturday’s newspaper was 23 and a half inches.

By then, Brian already had his hands on a test plate, one for Winchester that hadn’t gone through the CTP oven.

In short order, he followed me home and — yes — we put it in the oven in our kitchen. About 40 or 50 seconds later, we pulled it out and turned it to do the other end.

Each plate has the image for two pages on it, and both needed to be heat-treated.

After letting it cool, Brian ran his thumb over the image. It was perfect.

And so it came to pass later that night, after I’d watched the Mets beat the Royals and had chuckled my way through Colbert, Ray started ferrying plates over to the Ronald kitchen for heat-treating in our Whirlpool electric oven.

I’d start the broiler as Ray pulled up. He’d keep time as I heated and turned one plate, then I’d watch the clock while he did another.

He’d then take those two plates back to the pressroom so they could be put in place and come back with a couple more. Then we’d go through the same process again.

For a little less than an hour, the family kitchen was an essential part of the newspaper production process.

As if that weren’t enough, between our test session and the after-midnight production work, my wife used the same oven to bake some pumpkin-nut muffins.

I’ve kidded her that she’s Mrs. MacGyver.