A Tale of Economic Adventure: The Daily DBuys a Press
LASTIAST fall, The Dartmouth joined the small group of college newspapers that own and operate their own plants. The immediate reason for the acquisition of equipment was an eviction notice from our then current printer. The real reason for the switch goes back some years when a directorate of that era began exploring the purchase of a plant as a means of expanding and improving the paper.
In recent years, the paper has been making headway on the economic side, although the accumulation of reserve funds was, to a certain extent, hampered by a far too liberal profit-sharing plan. Now, if the revenue flow continues, it is feasible to envision special feature issues being put out periodically - perhaps even a regular magazine such as the one TheD attempted in the late fifties. The new press operates in a faster and more efficient way than the antiquated one formerly used. The press run has been reduced from four and one-half hours to under two hours. Six- and eight-page papers have become easier and more frequent.
The first week after installation was extremely difficult, both on the students and on the two employees, Sid Varney and Ira, Holmes, who showed a fantastic dedication to the paper. The crises were caused mainly by the late delivery of equipment that had been on order for six months. However, those days are, by and large, in the past and the paper has gone back to thriving on 4 a.m. editorials and long ethical arguments about this or that story.
Looking back, the terrors and panic of last fall seem more amusing than anything else. The following short sketch focuses more on how The D entered the turbulent capitalistic world with its own small printing plant than on the dry details of expense (a secret-more or less) and lists of machinery.
The expansion began with the normal bi-annual murmurings from the printer - that our 90-year-old press was a waste of floor space, that our business wasn't profitable, that we would have to relocate. The astounding thing is that this time he was taken seriously and the masterminds of the whole operation - Bill Green '6B and Chuck Schader '68 - began looking for other printers. They, of course, couldn't be found. Despair - which is a common emotion around undergraduate enterprises - set in, particularly with the suggestion (from a high administration source) that The D go from five days a week to two.
Purchasing a room full of equipment was decided upon reluctantly by some for it is a big step and the details were worked out in private. A "reputable firm" was contacted and the location of the plant was settled.
The whole operation throughout the summer the shipping of the press from Texas, the pressure upon the company to ship the rest of the equipment, the pressure on the workmen in Hanover to insure that the wrong wall in the rented space would not be knocked out, and the purchase of paper from Canada was coordinated by Schader via a phone in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens.
Rather than relate the smooth parts of this happening, it seems more edifying to discuss what exactly can go wrong when a small handful of students launch such an enterprise. The press, the first essential part, reached Hanover on the wrong day and the bewildered driver wandered up and down the streets considering whether or not he should dump the unwanted object into the river and be done with it. Thanks to a hasty call from the Gardens, Bill Green drove from Manchester, N. H., and rescued it in time. The problem then shifted to getting the object, roughly 15' by 6' by 9', through a door roughly 4' by 7'. It took a while, but through the various machinations of a company representative the press was disassembled in the parking lot of Campion's Cleaning Shop and reassembled in the plant room.
As the summer drew to an end, bits and pieces of the rest of the machinery reached Hanover and were quickly manhandled by the ever-increasing groups of students who fought against the trucker's waiting-time deadlines. One would expect Green and Schader to forget something. In fact, they didn't; but the company did. The machinery came in an agonizingly slow trickle, like supplies to Dienbienphu, and some did not make it at all. Throughout it all, a very grave and serious little man from the supplier would sympathize with Schader over the lack of this or that and would announce, very piously, "But we have hundreds of those in our warehouses." And that is where they stayed.
Compromises were made throughout, and the eve of the first scheduled paper found the new plant with roughly half its equipment but with an oversupply of enthusiasm. The second most important item, the linotype, was there and it had been worked over by the representative's wild-looking Brazilian assistant. What was lacking at The D, moreover, could be found at the Valley News which generously gave The D almost the full run of its shop.
Everything worked - for roughly twenty minutes - and then the well-serviced lino gave out. Improvisation was employed and things started moving again - for a while. Then it broke again.
The scene would go roughly as follows. The linotypist would announce in a very mournful voice, "My God, the gutenclaver on this machine is busted." Having no idea what a gutenclaver was, but feeling the need for general moping, most of us hung our heads and sighed like Thurberesque men in the presence of an over- bearing woman. Then a trip to the ValleyNews would be proposed and many would volunteer, fully believing that if a gutenclaver could cripple as formidable a machine as a linotype, it must require at least six to carry. Reaching there, however, it would be discovered that a gutenclaver was about the size of a farthing. Moreover, they are apparently rare in these parts for one could never be found. Improvisation set in.
The evening wore on, and one after another the machine revolted and the company of the enthusiastic was cut down by sleep. Now, as was discovered that night, there are three ways one can sleep on rolls of paper. You can slip in between two and be gradually crushed throughout the night. You can stretch out across the tops of two or three and wake up shaped like an m. Or you can lie lengthwise on one and enjoy all the comforts of any concrete floor. People tried all ways, particularly around 7 a.m. when the day's paper, by dispirited acclaim, was called off and a cease-fire with the machines was arranged.
Typical of the luck involved was an expedition to Boston for buying spare parts. It reached the store fifteen minutes after closing time and then proceeded to get lost looking for a restaurant in an almost completely residential area. While this went on, forces regrouped in Hanover for the second engagement. All the while, Schader and others were making hasty and angry calls to New York and the word "reputable" was gradually eased off the word "business" in discussing the supplier. The agent, of course, promised all the gutenclavers in the world but no one really listened.
The first paper did, in fact, come out the next morning and it was distributed at eight that morning a bare 24 hours late. The second paper came out at noon the next day and progressively the papers became more steady in meeting the deadline for deliveries. The flow of supplies continued at its snail's pace but now the plant is fully stocked.
Steps are now in progress for even further improvements. The staff has been enlarged and tere are now more enthusiastic editors than ever before - the '68 s had five, the '69s have seven. There is talk of a renovation of Robinson Hall which would alleviate the overcrowding in the main offices and there are rumors (oh horrors) of cooperation on key stories - like next fall's election - with WDCR.
Man Over Machine: Editor Bill Green '68 (left) and President-Business ManagerChuck Schader '68 triumphant in the daily's new printing plant.
