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Discuss “Executive Privilege”

On April 10, 2004, I walked home to Neville Street with one ear to a cell phone, my old suitemate Bradford on the other end in Boston. Two years beforehand, we had both started shooting photos for The Tartan. After Brad had taken a year off to study in Nepal and Tibet, and after both of us had served stints as the paper’s photo editor, I was filling Brad in on the events that had happened over the last 10 Natrat-filled days — what went wrong, what followed, and what we could do to fix it.

Just as I passed the WQED building and made my way across Fifth Avenue, I remember half-joking: “We’re going to be the ones to turn this newspaper around, aren’t we?”

Okay, it was melodramatic. But come on, I needed to cheer up somehow.

We weren’t...

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