Planning for Page One

The most memorable line from the mostly forgettable 1980s television series "The A-Team" was uttered at the end of each episode by ringleader Col. John "Hannibal" Smith: "I love it when a plan comes together."

That's a sentiment I sometimes repeat, aloud or to myself, as we put together each day's

Richmond Times-Dispatch.

My job, as night editor, is to lead the discussion about which stories we use on Page A1. That discussion can continue all through the evening, as events warrant.

A team of editors meets each morning to discuss plans for the next day's paper. We meet again each afternoon at 3:30 to decide which four stories will be played on the front page and which four stories will be played on the Metro front. We often have an extensive discussion before the plan is set.

And even after we have our plan, we have to be prepared to toss it out and start over, when news breaks late in the day. Recent examples would be the days when Michael Jackson and Walter Cronkite died.

Some days, our plan is rock-solid from 3:30 all the way through to the end of the production cycle, when the last page is sent to the pressroom around midnight.

Other days, the situation is more fluid and can be downright squishy.

This is the story of one of those squishy days.

. . .

On a recent Thursday, we emerged from the news meeting with two definite stories and two maybes.

Uncertainty can be debilitating. With the clock spinning and deadline approaching, the crew of page designers and other editors who put together the paper need to know the plan.

On this day, we knew for certain we would use our story, by reporter David Ress, on Philip Morris USA's efforts to market loose-leaf cigarette tobacco in high-tax states Maine and Michigan.

We also knew we would use wire-service coverage of the "beer summit" at the White House between Harvard scholar Henry Louis Gates Jr.; James Crowley, the police officer who arrested Gates in his home July 16; and the president and vice president.

Four other stories were under consideration:

• the possibility that the Indy Racing League, with its $53 million economic impact, was pulling out of Richmond after nine years;

• a report that officials at the LandAmerica 1031 Exchange Services Inc. knew the company was failing, yet they continued to take on new customers and their money;

• the results of an audit prepared for the Goochland County Board of Supervisors on the county's troubled utilities department; and,

• a possible verdict in the four-day trial in Chesterfield County of a man accused of killing a prostitute at a motel in 2007.

One of my favorite questions to ask during our news meeting is, "Does that story have any shelf life?" Knowing that a story could wait a day, or sometimes two or three days, gives us the flexibility we need to make our decisions.

The Goochland utilities audit had shelf life; we were confident no other reporters were working on the story. Also, the audit wasn't scheduled to be presented to the supervisors for another five days.

Before we could run the IRL story, we needed confirmation of the event's demise. When auto-racing writer Ralph Paulk nailed down the story about 4:30 p.m., we knew we had our third entry.

In fact, the IRL story became the centerpiece -- the story and image around which we build the page. Getting that quick confirmation gave page designer Jeremy Glover plenty of time to create a presentation that had impact by blending the headline and photo to draw the reader's eye.

About the same time, we learned that the LandAmerica story would need another day for the reporter to finish it.

By 5 p.m., the picture was becoming clearer. IRL: a go. LandAmerica: a no-go.

But the final piece of the puzzle would have to wait for a jury's decision.

With the Chesterfield murder trial, we knew via a phone call from reporter Bill McKelway that the jury at 4 p.m. had asked the judge for some information. At that time, the judge asked the jurors whether they thought they could reach a verdict by 6 p.m. The answer was yes.

The 6 o'clock hour came and went, with no verdict. We were comforted in knowing we had the Goochland story ready to go.

But the Chesterfield story was the one we wanted to complete the page. McKelway's reporting on the trial had been riveting for three days, and we wanted to give readers the outcome.

About 6:15, the call came from Chesterfield: a guilty verdict, after about 6½ hours of deliberations.

The lineup was complete. I love it when a plan comes together.

We'd like to believe ol' Hannibal Smith would be pleased.

Contact Brice Anderson at (804) 649-6644 or .