Sorry, guys.
If you picked up Monday's paper (and hopefully you did!), you may have noticed something strange.
No, it wasn't the gargantuan size of the 32-page behemoth of an Alligator. It was the content.
We're sorry we had to run a whopping 15 Associated Press stories. (We've been working here for years and that's the most we've ever seen printed in one edition).
Sorry about the Oklahoma/Oklahoma State confusion on the front page, a mixup that will surely send us to Gator fan hell.
Sorry that little "partly cloudy" clip art wasn't next to the indexes on Page 1.
But we realized something last night, sometime between the server crash at midnight and its eventual resuscitation at 1:30 a.m.
Maybe they won't notice the missing weather icon.
Maybe the readers want more AP articles.
What a lot of our readers may not realize is that it takes a hell of a lot of blood, sweat and tears to generate each edition of the Alligator. As you may have read last semester, we've had some "issues" (pun totally intended) with employee turnover and low morale in the newsroom. We've had to do some serious brainstorming to try to resolve these issues.
We transformed the newsroom from '70s wood paneling hell to something that could arguably be called shabby chic. Our secret: six coats of a paint named Cool Elegance, a lot of Tegan and Sara sing-alongs and the installation of a twin bed in the editor's office.
(We're not kidding. There really is a bed in there, and we've already slept on it).
Even with our improved digs, putting out a paper is no easy feat. It involves assigning stories, which have to be reported and written before they go through several editors. Photos are assigned, snapped and edited. All of this happens while you guys are sleeping, going to class and watching The Office.
And it happens every day.
When you factor in a debilitating server crash, a staff still in training and a paper that would be a feat for a full staff to fill, the potential for disaster increases by roughly 89 percent (and we suck at math).
But last night, as the entire staff sat assembled at 1 a.m. in the production room waiting for the servers to come back online, no one was complaining. By the way, the deadline for all pages to be sent is 12:50 every night, no exceptions. Even Rachel, our lone online guru, stayed until the bitter end and sleepily published the last story to our Web site at 6:30 a.m. - and she's not doing that again.
For us, not being able to publish both print and online versions of yesterday's paper was not an option.
There are so many things that can and will go wrong, but one thing that will never change is our dedication to you, the reader.
Please tell us what's working for you.
Or, if you so desire, come work for us. We're having an open house this Friday from noon to 5 p.m. If you're interested in joining us -- and working here is fun, we promise - stop in. We can't wait to meet you.
Nicole Safker is a journalism senior and Editor in Chief of the Alligator. Kristin Bjornsen is a journalism junior and Managing Editor / Print. Rachel Roy is a journalism junior and Managing Editor / Online.
