By JORDAN GREEN, Editor-in-Chief
It all started Monday. Or maybe it was Sunday.
For journalists, the time between Feb. 10 and Feb. 17 was a blur. With ice and snow covering the Midwest and power outages affecting thousands, we had no shortage of news to cover.
Those of us on the Northwestern News started covering the storm as snow fell across our campus and our community on Valentine’s Day. For starters, we took a lot of pictures.
We worked on a big story about the weather. On Monday morning, Feb. 15, students in two of our residence halls on campus were awakened when fire alarms malfunctioned. When the fire alarms sounded in my dorm, I grabbed my gear and ran outside. I immediately starting interviewing people. The fire alarms went off for a third time that night in the women’s dorm. I had to update the story for a third time. It was now Monday at midnight.
Then came the revelation Tuesday morning that rolling blackouts were occurring, but not in Alva. But they might later. I did a total rewrite of that story.
I was in the newsroom all day Tuesday editing those stories and finishing up normal editing and other page design. Then, sporting events started being canceled. The sports editor and I updated one sports story.
I left at midnight again. Then, Wednesday morning, someone crashed into one of the university’s concrete displays near a roadway. I went and covered it. More sporting events were canceled just as I was ready to send the paper to press. The sports editor and I hurriedly updated our schedule of events.
The internet went down, and I couldn’t send the newspaper to the press like I normally do. I loaded the pages onto a flash drive and took them to the local paper. And finally – finally – everything was done.
Being a weekly newspaper is tough. What’s written on Monday isn’t always relevant by Thursday, especially with breaking news like this. It was a busy, stressful week. But the paper came out. It’s no wonder we sometimes call it the weekly miracle.
The team that puts this paper out every week is incredible. They love their work and understand its importance. I’m fortunate to be one small part of this awesome group of people. And even though I’ll never be rich or famous, I’ll be happy knowing that this work makes a difference.
I smiled when our circulation manager carried the paper into the newsroom. Finally, one hellish week was over. And I was proud.