It's hard to believe that three years on The Chronicle staff have come to an end. I still remember walking into Mr. Conner's room when it was still c106 with my brother next to me, nervously asking for a Chronicle application. So far, a lot of seniors have written about the personalities of everyone on staff, and I could do that, but it may get a little repetitive. Everyone that has been on or is currently on The Chronicle is an intelligent, amazing person with a specific personality that I would not want to change.
I don't remember exactly when this was said this year, but I remember the conversation perfectly. Mr. Conner was talking about Matt Marvar, and said something along the lines of "I don't remember any of the stories Marvar wrote, but I do remember him standing up in a canoe saying something stupid." That really stuck with me. Most likely, I won't remember any of the stories that I wrote for The Chronicle in the next ten or so years. I won't remember any topics of Mr. Conner's long rants before class, or any journalistic thing I learned at IU or OU, or heck, I may not even remember what a lead is. These types of things, however, aren't really supposed to be remembered. Here is what I will remember:
I will remember sitting down at my first Chronicle meeting when I was a sophomore and having to wait for Eric Miller to walk over from the middle school because he was in eighth grade. I will remember thinking "why the heck is there an eighth grader here?" Now, Eric Miller is a junior and is receiving offers to play football at Harvard.
I will remember covering my first CSPN story with Duncan and watching him take a picture on his phone through two fences. That is, and forever will be, the worst CPSN story of all time.
I will remember writing my first in print story and not understanding what a visual was. I tried taking a picture of my friend who wasn't even vaguely related to the story, and I will remember Erin Brush telling the entire class that the visual does need to actually include a source.
I will remember Erin McElhenny's laugh. I will remember a lot of things about Erin McElhenny, but the laugh has been implanted into the back of my brain like a tramp stamp. I didn't realize how much I missed that laugh until this year.
I will remember when I pitched a story about how it is hard for kids who didn't speak English to go to school and everyone verbally destroyed me, rightfully so. I take pride in the fact that I have the worst CSPN story and the worst pitch of all time. Marvar got up and defended me, going on one of his rants about how we all need to listen to and consider each story idea. Even though I deserved the beat down, I really appreciated that. Thanks Marvar.
I will remember going to Blake's house for a chronding event and watching Blake body slam Marvar into the inner-most core of the Earth. That was awesome.
I will remember getting up on a Saturday morning and going with either Marvar or Jonathan to Columbus to cover some sort of state championship that needed to be turned in that night. I always looked forward to those roadies. Something about Bluegrass music and ol' fashion reporting in the morning really got me going. I will remember Marvar telling one of the guys working the state cross country meet to let us through the restricted area in "the name of journalism."
I will remember the Chronsgivings, the secret santas, and all the other little parties we had.
I will remember India Kirssin opening her lunchbox every day to reveal some weird vegan substance that smelled like cat piss.
I will remember Mr. Conner saying "stay thirsty my friends" whenever he would leave for lunch on a Friday.
I will remember Disch's powerpoints.
I will remember at OU when Eric Miller, Eric Michael, Marvar, Duncan, Arnav and I were all in room 934 and we ding dong ditched the room across from us. When they didn't open, we sent Arnav out to investigate and the guys in the other room jumped out and scared the living crap out of Arnav.
I will remember Mr. Conner yelling "drown the puppies! Drown them!"
I will remember Eric Miller jumping up and punching the projector. I don't think I had ever laughed so hard after watching Eric propel himself into the air and KO a school projector.
I will remember all of the canoeing trips. I will remember Marvar standing up in the boat and when Kylie McCalmont kicked me out of the canoe and I had to walk a quarter of a mile back to the bus.
I will remember when Zane Miller came into class with a broken arm and finding out that he broke his arm hopping a fence for a pen while covering a CSPN event. I never thought you could injure yourself that badly in the journalism field.
I will remember trying to transcribe an interview and looking up to see My 600 Ib. Life playing on the projector. Only in c103.
I will remember after our fifth bell final when Mr. Conner would send us in waves to sneak out of the building to go to IHOP.
I will remember when Eric Michael stood up and congratulated Eric Miller in front of the whole class for getting his first college offer to play at OU.
I will remember giving Abbey Marshall a bunch of crap for dating a twelve year old.
I will remember when Jonathan left to get Chipotle and got tailed by a cop on the way there and back because they suspected him for skipping school.
This list could literally go on forever, but I don't want to drone on. For me, The Chronicle was less about the journalism and more about the people. I definitely learned so much journalistically from The Chronicle that I will use throughout the rest of my life, but when I look back on my experience, I will reminisce about what I have said above. There is so much to remember, but interestingly enough, little of it involves the class itself. The people are what make The Chronicle what is it.
The people are those who help make the memories.
