Otterblog

If you’ve ever seen any of those newspaper movies from the 1940s or so, there’s always a moment where the editor yells “Stop the presses,” and then a million pounds of steel and brass come to a screeching halt.

In reality it’s a lot more complicated than that. We came close on Tuesday night with the death of President Gerald Ford. The first AP flash of his death came at 11:55. Normally, we would be locked up for first edition.

Our copy desk chief had left before that flash, and he heard about the death at 1:40 at home. But he knew it wasn’t in the paper when he left. I got the call at 1:45. We talked for a minute. Because of press problems, we only had one edition, and the question was when did the press start running?

Gerald Ford, as you can tell from our extensive coverage the past few days, has some important local ties to our community. And if his presidency was short, it was also incredibly important as a bridge, and you can argue that his actions paved the way for Carter, who paved the way for Reagan etc…

So I put on a pair of jeans and started driving to work to figure out what to do. But first I called the pressroom. It turned out to be a false alarm. Because of the production problem, we were actually able to get Ford’s death into all editions. A false alarm. Many early editions of newspapers around the country didn’t have the Ford obit. Because of this glitch, we were able to, and consequently, our follow-up stories for Thursday’s paper were able to look more forward than otherwise.

Another death worth noting: A good friend died the other day. James Archie died on Christmas Day. I got to know James through volunteering at the Food Bank. He was the first person I met there nearly 12 years ago. He drove one of the salvage trucks and was a familiar sight at supermarkets and elsewhere. Through a life that included more than its share of sorrow, he carried himself with grace and humor. He’ll be missed.