Bowling, breakfasts and blunders: Reflections from Each day alums

Since 1882, Each day staffers have been making a paper, however they’ve additionally been making reminiscences. On this article, Each day members from the final 70 years share their favourite experiences with the paper.
Pranks and hijinks
Adam Berns ’84 — Sports activities Editor and Editor of Cardinal Right now
I masterminded the “Pretend Each day Cal” following “The Play.” After the notorious ending to the sport, I acquired The Stanford Each day to fund my prank the place we put roughly 12,000 pretend papers on the Berkeley campus saying the NCAA had given the Huge Recreation again to Stanford. I wrote the majority of the paper in a single evening with fellow Each day staffer Mark Zeigler ’85 after which organized a crew of Each day staffers to distribute on the Berkeley campus. The prank labored wonderful nicely, aided by the truth that the Cal Berkeley paper was round eight hours late that day. The prank not solely made nationwide headlines on the time however to this present day continues to obtain press. It’s within the Faculty Soccer Corridor of Fame and not too long ago was featured on ESPN. It’s been referred to as by each Sports activities Illustrated and ESPN as one of many prime three sports activities pranks of all time.
Gary Cavalli ’71 — Sports activities Editor
I used to be Sports activities Editor throughout a interval of nice political unrest on the campus. The week earlier than the Huge Recreation in 1968, The Each day ran an editorial entitled “Huge Recreation Dying,” which was principally a sermon on how irrelevant sports activities was. Nobody gave me a heads up. It simply appeared. So I used to be greater than just a little ticked off. The subsequent day I ran a column in The Each day entitled “Huge Recreation Dwelling,” primarily defending faculty soccer and declaring the sports activities division’s independence from the remainder of The Each day. The editors acquired the final chortle on me, although. The next day they ran a brief observe asking if I nonetheless wished my paycheck.
Jon Sherman ’90 — Friday Columnist
I keep in mind proposing to options editor Andy Berke ’90 that my picture change with every column I wrote. I nonetheless can’t consider he authorized it. Picture editor Kai Keasey ’89 was a pal from highschool and went all in on a photograph shoot with a number of wardrobe modifications.
I can’t keep in mind if I knew forward of time what the themes of my columns can be about or if I ended up with concepts based mostly on the outfits I occurred to have been carrying within the photographs. Both approach, it was well worth the effort.
Jason Cole ’84 — Sports activities Editor
The week earlier than the 1981 Huge Recreation my pals and I constructed a 12 1/2-foot “soccer” to place below the finger of the statue of Father Junipero Serra on I-280 to make it seem like he was a holder on area targets. The image made the highest half of The Each day. Implausible enjoyable, and I’ve a framed image to this present day.
Errors, classes and challenges
Glenn Alford ’63 — Sports activities Editor
I wrote the headline for my advance on the 1961 Huge Recreation: “95,000 to attend Huge Recreation.” The subsequent day, a fellow staffer identified that Stanford Stadium’s capability was 90,000. Oops!
Bruce Helpful ’81 — Arts Editor
I used to be Arts Editor within the fall of 1980 when John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s “Double Fantasy” album was launched. I assigned a evaluation to a pair of writers I knew who had been going out, considering it could be very intelligent to have a pair do a “he mentioned, she mentioned” evaluation of a report that alternated songs between husband and spouse. The writers hated the album (as did I) and turned in an eviscerating piece. However a number of days earlier than the evaluation was scheduled to run, Lennon was shot. The writers begged me to can the evaluation, or a minimum of allow them to soften it, however I felt journalistic integrity required me to print it as is — in any case, Lennon’s homicide didn’t make “Double Fantasy” a greater report. That was the choice of 22-year-old me; on the time I noticed the world as extra black and white than I do right this moment. I believe we did run a disclaimer saying the piece had been written earlier than the capturing, however the writers nonetheless acquired a number of blowback. By some means, they forgave me.
Hugh West ’68 — Sports activities Reporter
Within the days of a typeset paper, the Managing Editor would put up a marked-up copy of yesterday’s situation on the primary bulletin board, scolding us for what we’d achieved unsuitable. I’ll always remember the the massive pink letters screaming “NO MORE ALLITERATIVE HEADLINES!”
Patricia Fels ’75 — Options Editor and Columnist
In late fall quarter of ’74, I broke my foot whereas strolling in Dr. Scholl’s sandals on the sloping stroll that led all the way down to the Quad. For the primary week I used to be on crutches, ready for my forged to dry. That very same week, I used to be assigned a profile article on a professor’s class, so I hobbled to the Each day workplace to work on my article. I used to be used to being there at evening when deadline pressures made the ambiance thrilling however tense. Nonetheless, within the early afternoon, I spotted, it was a fairly chill place to be. Bev, our wonderful typesetter, was relaxed and cracking jokes; I’d by no means seen her that approach! The part editors had been simply hanging out, having enjoyable. It ended up being a compare-and-contrast story of The Each day workplace at two very completely different occasions of the day. I used that story within the high-school journalism lessons I taught for a few years to reveal {that a} decided reporter can create a narrative out of virtually nothing, it doesn’t matter what the obstacles are. Most significantly, I made my three hour deadline!
Alan Senze ’67 — Headline Editor
I loved engaged on the Stanford Each day as a Headline Editor for Mike Roster ’67 JD ’70. I captured the essence of most articles efficiently in succinct headlines. Sadly, I acquired a key headline unsuitable regarding a Proposition on the 1964 California poll, and Mike was not amused! He was an important editor and by no means missed something!
On the job
Ward McAfee ’61 — Paper Boy
Within the late Nineteen Fifties, I used to be The Each day’s solely paper boy, delivering stacks to the Quad and bundles to residences and even off-campus to the Stanford Analysis Institute. Every day, rain or shine, I loved seeing the start of a brand new day on the farm. As I needed to be on the job at 4 a.m. every day, I used to be very nicely paid. I loved that as nicely.
Camille de Campos ‘61 — Sports activities Photographer
It was the autumn of 1957, pre-registration week, and one way or the other I discovered The Each day Shack. I requested to see the sports activities editor. I don’t recall if both was editor, however I met Steve Baffrey ’60 and Dick Barnes ’60. I, a 5’2 feminine freshman, introduced that I used to be a sports activities photographer and proceeded to indicate them my portfolio of motion pictures. For the primary residence sport of the 12 months, I used to be on the sector on my first project for The Stanford Each day.
Judith Vollmar Torney-PurtaI ’59 — Radio Engineer
I labored for KZSU when it was related to The Each day. I used to be the primary feminine scholar who stuffed the function of Engineer on the station. That concerned cueing up and enjoying recordings. On some packages, I used to be each the Engineer and the Announcer. I additionally learn information tales, which I selected and edited from the teletype.
Margie Freivogel ’71 — Editor in Chief
The nation was fractured over Vietnam and civil rights. The campus was fractured as protesters broke home windows. We at The Each day had been exhausted — overlaying the motion every evening, then placing out the paper by daybreak. Amidst the chaos, we solid a bond as we tried to make sense of a world turned the wrong way up. We discovered our footing in vertiginous occasions. We discovered friendships that may final a lifetime.
John Freed ’77 — Vol. 170 Editor in Chief
One among my favourite reminiscences is publishing The Each day’s first shade {photograph} ever, within the final version of my time period as Editor in Chief on Jan. 28, 1977. My pricey pal and Managing Editor, the late Dave Smith, selected the quote from Emerson: “Although we journey the world over to seek out the gorgeous, we should carry it with us or we discover it not.”
Chris Drake ’03 — Vol. 216-18 Contributing Author
I keep in mind the primary time an article I wrote appeared on the entrance web page and above the fold. I’ll always remember holding a duplicate of the paper and seeing the story I labored so arduous to get good. I felt proud that I had a hand in delivering what the editorial employees felt was newsworthy information. Considering again on it now, it seems like a bygone period, with print newspapers fading away as they’ve since. Not understanding if I might ever write a front-pager once more, I held onto that version of the paper — and I nonetheless have it, rigorously stashed away for safekeeping!
Vincent Ho ’93 — Vol. 202-205 Picture Editor
I keep in mind being instructed this: “36-exposure roll of movie prices a tiny fraction of what it takes to supply a problem of The Each day. Take the pictures it is advisable get the correct one.” We’d race again from soccer video games and course of one to 2 dozen rolls of movie at a time in dunk tanks within the darkroom of the then publication constructing, the Storke Publications Constructing. We’d then scour contact sheets with a loupe earlier than making half-tones to do lay out by hand with our structure artist, Duran Alvarez. Within the early ’90s, the transition to scanning movie was notably thrilling — I despatched digitized photographs again through 14.4k modem with a Mac PowerBook from some NCAA championship occasions — that was innovative in these days.
J.T.S. Moore ’92 — Vol. 197-198 World & Nation co-editor, Vol. 197-198 and Vol. 196-199 Author
I keep in mind sitting within the super-neat central room of The Each day’s workplaces within the Storke Publications Constructing studying Related Press wire tales on the green-screen pc terminal. Earlier than the worldwide net, the flexibility to learn wire information tales as they had been filed was a uncommon expertise. As co-editor of World & Nation part, I had entry to the green-screened pc terminal and beloved studying the information of the day earlier than virtually anybody else on campus. I might then choose critical information tales and write irreverent headlines like: “Bush retains mum about taxes, says, ‘Learn My Hips.’”
John Coonrod ’73 — Vol . 156 Reporter and Photographer
I used to be within the darkroom the day the Palo Alto police raided the workplace and seized our negatives of anti-war protests. This led to a Supreme Court docket case.
Late nights
Wealthy Jaroslovsky ’75 — Vol. 165 Editor in Chief
Throughout freshman 12 months, we’d usually end work on the paper at round 3:00 a.m., drop it off on the printer in Menlo Park and go have breakfast at an all-night place on El Camino. Generally, although, we’d drop it on the printer after which hit the all-night bowling alley — after which go to breakfast. I don’t consider I made an terrible lot of 8 a.m. lessons that 12 months. Or 9 a.m., come to consider it.
Lori Matsukawa ’78 — Reporter
One among our favourite rituals was going out for Jack Steak sandwiches after sending the paper to the printer. Jack within the Field was the one place open that late. It made the newsroom odor like greasy onion rings the subsequent day. Fairly gross.
Corridor Each day ’73 — Part Editor, Managing Editor and Govt Editor
One among my favourite reminiscences is enjoying evening soccer below the streetlights in entrance of the Storke Publication Constructing and, in fact, going bowling with backshop Bev after dropping off the paper on the printer at 2 a.m.
Michael Roster ’67 — Govt editor
We had been positioned in “The Each day shack,” that’s, a WWII Quonset hut. A 12 months later, the palatial Storke Publications Constructing was constructed throughout the road. It was positively a ramshackle operation, together with the overhead heater that gave the impression of a jet engine taking off when it began. And throughout the road was the Stanford Press, which nonetheless used linotype machines and scorching sort. It printed one thing like 10,000 print copies of The Each day each evening on web site.
One of many early challenges once we grew to become evening editors was to go throughout the road to the printers and take care of Jack the foreman. Nothing was extra terrifying then approaching the 11 p.m. deadline and desirous to make final minute modifications in precise traces of sort. Jack would really snarl at us, indicating this was our final probability.
Elna Tymes ’61 — Employees editor
My favourite reminiscences contain placing The Each day to mattress at evening. We had been in The Each day’s outdated residence, a dilapidated shack throughout the alley from the printers who went on time beyond regulation at 11:18 p.m. There was all the time a mad rush out the door after 11 p.m. to get tales to the typesetters earlier than they went on time beyond regulation.
Ashwin Ramaswami ’21 — Chief Know-how Officer
I keep in mind working with Do to file switch protocol (FTP) right into a server to edit The Stanford Each day WordPress web site and considering, “That is jank.” I shortly moved the code to model management below GitHub and have by no means seemed again!
Each day group
Baldwin Lee ’92 — Information Options Editor and Senior Employees Author
As soon as a Each day staffer, all the time a Each day staffer. In 1991, whereas I used to be not writing for The Each day as a result of I used to be a Residential Assistant, however the information editor knew I had a motorbike when the Oakland Hills firestorms began. I instantly mentioned sure, and drove The Each day photographer into the fires on my outdated Yamaha Seca. Fairly silly of us, however we wished to doc what was taking place, with owners on their roofs with hoses, timber catching blaze and hearth rising throughout. I needed to inform The Each day photographer a minimum of as soon as, “Uh, don’t go away farther than 5 seconds from me once more — we’re virtually surrounded by hearth.”
One other reminiscence stands out to me. Again in 1989, once I was writing the lead article on the scholar takeover of College President Donald Kennedy’s workplace, we had been nonetheless typing on green-screen terminals and manually laying out. Late at evening as I used to be ending the lede with the editors standing behind my shoulders ready for this final piece — poof. A wisp of smoke, no extra display screen, article draft gone. We needed to begin over. I immediately sensed a number of editors behind me considering, “Uh, younger reporter, don’t freak out!” However we acquired that story out. We bonded throughout that stress, however I additionally keep in mind one factor I used to be by no means afraid of — that I’d get strain to see it the College’s approach when all these college students had been arrested. The editors all the time stood by me, and I felt no strain to jot down something however what we noticed. I solely later realized what a luxurious that was, and what an impartial establishment The Each day is.

Winston Shi ’16 — Vol. 245 Opinions Managing Editor
Shortly after commencement, I jotted down a joke article for my graduate college’s scholar newspaper the place I simply talked about how nice Stanford was. It was a rousing success. The undergrads had been so upset, they wouldn’t even put it within the print version. About two years later, The Each day’s public relations crew was feeling frisky and tweeted a screenshot of my article asking, “Why are you so obsessive about us?” I discussed the tweet in passing to some Each day pals, figuring that I’d already been forgotten. However because it seems, I by no means actually left.
Karen Springen ’83 — Editor-in-Chief
It’s inconceivable to select one! Greater than any dorm, the Storke Publication Constructing was my Stanford residence. The coed editors there gave me my first project, an article on breakaway bollards. The constructing’s merchandising machine there gave me my beverage of alternative, Tab. The 1 a.m. closing occasions gave me the best present, lifelong pals. The complete expertise gave me my two ardour professions, journalist and journalism trainer.
James (Jim) Madison ’53 — Vol. 123 Editor
My favourite Each day reminiscence is the day my future spouse of 60-plus years (now deceased) organized my election as editor as an alternative of her, as a result of, as a journalism main, she most popular the job of managing editor. We celebrated the outcomes that night at our favourite make-out spot on campus.
Vlae Kershner ’76 — Vol. 169 Editor
A shocking one is how fondly I keep in mind a number of members of the World Warfare II lessons who had labored for The Each day and remained useful to the younglings. Basically, they had been pleasant and had higher manners than my era of Boomers, however had been extra closed off and nursed personal hurts. They certain might maintain their liquor and celebrated the Cardinal by imbibing bloody marys at their tailgate earlier than Huge Recreation. They’re gone now, however because of The Each day I’ve a powerful impression of the Biggest Technology.
Lisa Williams ’87 — Photographer
As a photographer for The Each day I used to be assigned to shoot a photograph of two enterprise college college students who had been coaching for the Ironman Triathlon in Hawaii. I handled it as some other project, and met Dave and Dan as they had been happening a coaching journey. It seems that I ended up relationship Dan for over a 12 months, which was a spotlight of my time at Stanford.
Memorable tales
Stanley Gross ’57 — Vol. 131 Night time Editor
I interviewed Dean of College students Don Winbigler for a Each day article and seen the ashtray on his desk. Across the rim had been the phrases: “non illegitimus carborundum,” that means “Don’t let the bastards get you down.”
Mike Vaska ’82 — Vol. 179 Co-Managing Editor
The archives say I wrote 44 articles over my two years with The Each day. Every was an journey. From the massive stage of nationwide politics — I coated a speech by then presidential candidate Ronald Reagan and interviewed impartial candidate John Anderson — to why the brand new bollards on campus had been fabricated from wooden.
However nothing in comparison with the massive Storey Home hearth, which started once I noticed some smoke whereas getting my mail. Quickly the outdated wooden construction of the all-female dorm was crackling as the hearth started to devour many years of its historical past. I talked to an editor from The Each day and requested what to do, and so they mentioned one thing to the impact that “that is your large break” and go cowl the story. It was an all day and into-the-evening journey. If the editors had been nervous {that a} cub reporter was less than the duty, they by no means let on. Many hours later, once we put the paper to mattress, an enormous headline over an image of the blaze mentioned “Fireplace Guts Storey Home.” We reported that the six hearth vehicles had been delayed in responding by these new picket bollards I had beforehand written about. Whereas the editors generously ran the story with my byline, it was a crew effort with different reporters contributing. The entrance web page additionally had fantastic reporting from Fran Miller ’82 on how the ladies from Storey Home met with College President Richard Lyman and his spouse. I usually inform the younger legal professionals in my workplace that my Stanford Each day expertise taught me to suppose and write quick, but it surely additionally impressed me to offer the subsequent era the possibility to run with a mission, to have their very own Storey Home second — very similar to the massive break The Each day gave to me.
Invoice Freivogel ’71 — Co-Editor
I’ve so many reminiscences of The Each day: Delivering papers at daybreak the morning after Kent State. A sheriff’s bus hurtling towards demonstrators close to Wilbur. The odor of tear gasoline. Editorializing that the Reserve Officers’ Coaching Corps (ROTC) ought to go away campus, even because the ROTC constructing burned. The shock when gunshots wounded two conservatives. Police raiding The Each day picture lab resulting in a struggle for press freedom that misplaced within the Supreme Court docket however gained in Congress. Publishing “Snitches and Oppression,” a radical’s op-ed screed urging protesters to beat conservative college students — an op-ed we sadly printed however which thankfully led to Each day independence. Most of all the nice pals, many nonetheless journalists and nonetheless nice pals. I’m married to one in all them.
Jon Weisman ’89 — Sports activities Editor and Senior Employees Author
Within the greatest 12 months for Stanford basketball since 1942, the Cardinal shocked No. 1 Arizona at Maples throughout my first week as Sports activities Editor in 1988. Instantly, beat author Chris Fialko ’88 referred to as the workplace and mentioned, “Now we have to get the entrance web page.” The information facet didn’t notice at first how large a deal this was, however we acquired it. The sheer pleasure and vitality of publishing Fialko’s front-page story stays unforgettable. I nonetheless have the picture that I lifted off the flat (youngsters, ask your dad and mom) after it went to press. Superb evening.
Ralph Kostant ’72 — Editorial Board Member, Opinions Editor and Reporter
On Sunday evening, Nov. 15, 1970, Felicity Barringer ’72 and I helped the Band foil an try by Cal Bears to steal the Axe. We captured three raiders. Our story appeared in The Each day on Nov. 17, 1970, entitled, “Skulkers Nab Ursi.”
Deena Weisberg ’03 — Information Editor
I keep in mind the evening of the presidential election of 2000, the place the race was referred to as after which un-called and thrown into chaos. The Each day had really been in a position to ship our reporters to cowl the story reside from Bush’s and Gore’s marketing campaign headquarters, so we had been getting as a lot up-to-the-minute information as most main media shops that evening. I used to be within the newsroom till about 2 a.m., working with our Editor in Chief to attempt to coordinate the story from our reporters and determine what to print. We had a special election web site pulled up on each pc within the newsroom, however they had been all contradicting one another, and the TV information wasn’t any higher. Lastly, we needed to admit that we wouldn’t know the outcome earlier than we needed to go to print and ended up operating a extra correct story than most newspapers the subsequent day.
Fritz Stahr ’81 — Photographer
Again in our period, we celebrated quite a lot of occasions with fireworks over Lake Lag because it had water in it most of time. I coated that one evening for The Each day with a good quantity of trepidation about getting a superb shot, however a few of my experiments with shutter pace and publicity — principally guide then — labored out nicely and I acquired a front-page picture out of that roll that I’ve in my scrap-book to this present day! One other nice reminiscence was my picture protection of the athletic division’s want to make the “Griffins” the varsity mascot after the Trustees determined to drop the “Indians.” They discovered giant, outdated griffin statues deep within the woods across the mausoleum, moved them to a distinguished place in entrance of the athletic division, the place they stayed till round 2005. By that point, it was obvious that the mascot was going to stay the colour “Cardinal” for the foreseeable future. Clearly, they thought that may be a greater choice than the 1970’s scholar favourite: “Robber Barrons.”
Mary Kay Becker ’66 — Information Editor and Night time Editor
I keep in mind holding down the fort an The Each day shack in Dec. 1964 to take care of contact with intrepid reporter (and future editor) Jon Roise ’67 and our sensible photographer, Bruce Wilcox ’67, after they went to Berkeley to cowl the Free Speech Motion demonstrations. They managed to climb to the highest of a campus constructing to get the very best view.
Erik Hill ’79 — Picture Editor and Photographer
In the future in Might of 1979, my senior 12 months, a request got here in to {photograph} a live performance to be carried out by violinist Mark Gottlieb and his sister Karen — underwater in deGuerre Pool. Some mixture of picture staffers Lex Passaris ’79, Jim “Spiro” Spirakis ’79, Dave Bockian ’79 and others determined I used to be the plain alternative for the project. Somebody loaned me a Nikonos digicam, I acquired a fast tutorial, and the subsequent day discovered me swim trunks for the pool. Gottlieb, a graduate scholar, strapped on scuba gear and plunged in, as did his keyboard accompanist. They performed submerged, cables related to audio tools on the pool deck for viewers enjoyment. I acquired a number of frames, dried off, and headed to the darkroom. Because the Monty Python sketch troupe was common on the time, and their “Fish License” bit featured a pet named “Eric the Fish,” my picture within the Might 29, 1979 paper was credited “Each day underwater picture by Erik ‘the fish’ Hill.” Apparent alternative.

Susan Heilmann Miller ’66 — Copy Editor and Options Editor
I transferred my junior 12 months after graduating from group faculty. Since highschool, I’d been working at my native paper part-time through the college 12 months, full-time over the summers. My first quarter at Stanford, I did a scholar survey for an anthropology class, asking males what they considered Stanford ladies and what they thought Stanford ladies considered Stanford males. I turned the responses right into a four-part collection for The Each day that ran on daily basis on the entrance web page. Managing editor Jim Briscoe mentioned, “Not unhealthy for a cub reporter.” I simply smiled.
Barbara Louchard (Ritz) ’70 — Assistant Editorial Web page Editor
I had the fantastic alternative to interview and journey to the airport with the folks group, Peter, Paul and Mary, after they carried out at Frost Amphitheater, donating their efficiency to the Eugene McCarthy presidential marketing campaign. Diarmuid McGuire handed me this unbelievable present. I used to be assistant editorial web page editor, and I used to be awestruck at this chance he gave to me. I had worshipped this group, as did so many, since highschool. They had been probably exhausted after their efficiency, however theu had been very variety in direction of me. Paul was very charming and pleasant. He mentioned he would ship me outdated copies of the Village Voice. After the piece was printed, I despatched him a duplicate of the interview and acquired briefly discover a letter from him and the promised copies of the Village Voice.

Robert Siegel ’73 — Client Affairs Reporter
Within the spring of 1973, sunny afternoons introduced a sky full of a deep orange haze, brought on by hundreds of vehicles touring 101. I wrote a Each day article questioning why American automobile firms had been resisting new environmental laws that imposed air pollution requirements on car emissions. In the meantime, Japanese firms had already developed new, extra environment friendly and fewer polluting engines. Fifty years later, I nonetheless vividly keep in mind utilizing the ever-present yellow paper on giant (and guide) Smith Corona typewriters. The editors had been all the time splendidly useful.
David Georgette ’78 — Co-Sports activities Editor.
In early Feb. 1977, I used to be in a position to expertise the journey of hitting the “Oregon Path” when sports activities editors Chris Baker ’77, Paul Bauman ’77 and his girlfriend invited me to accompany them on their drive to the Willamette Valley to cowl the Stanford males’s basketball crew’s Friday and Saturday evening video games at Oregon and Oregon State.
Hal Hughes ’69, JD ’72 — Function Author and Reporter
As a author for The Each day, I had the fantastic alternative to interview, report on and go to with creator Richard Armour, who wrote “It All Began With Columbus.” I additionally interviewed future astronaut Sally Experience.
Rod Koon ’74 — Reporter
I loved writing for The Each day, particularly live performance critiques. Probably the most memorable was a evaluation of what was to be a Stephen Stills and Manassas live performance at Winterland in Oct. 1970. It will definitely changed into a full-blown Crosby, Stills, Nash & Younger reunion. Sadly, I solely had two rolls of movie and shot all of it early within the live performance — so I had none left when Crosby, Nash and Younger joined Stills on stage. Lesson realized: all the time pack extra movie than you suppose you’ll ever want!
These submissions had been calmly edited for concision and readability.