A behind-the-scenes look from the eye of a media storm

Digging out from a few inches of snow is nothing compared to being buried in a blizzard of media.

Many of us 500 reporters covering Barack Obama's Super Tuesday party at the Hyatt Regency Chicago were asking the difficult questions. Such as: "Are you really charging reporters $20 for a box lunch?"

Reporters, especially during these fiscally challenging times, tend to be a cheap lot, often accustomed to free food. Fortunately, I had one of my kids' protein bars in my coat pocket, and access to the free, nonbottled water in the media work room.

But no amount of free water could wash away one question stuck in my craw: "Do you really expect me to pay $200 for a few hours of Internet service? For that kind of money, I could get a room upstairs with a complimentary bottle of champagne, fresh strawberries and a full breakfast for two."

The media complaints began -- rightfully so according to the grumbling e-mail I immediately cranked out -- at noon on Tuesday when we picked up our credentials. The print media were confined to a large room with TVs, discounted $150 Internet availability and no cell phone reception or access to the grand ballroom where Obama would speak.

"If I wanted to watch the event on TV, I could just stay in my room," noted an out-of-town reporter who had booked a $159 room upstairs, where wireless Internet service cost only $13.63 a day.

With 500 media people (one for every four people in the crowd of 2,000 Obama supporters), the demands for food, phones, Internet, satellite trucks and security were burdensome.

"As you well know, your brethren are kind of pushy," says Gary Marr, senior director of catering for Hyatt Regency Chicago. The European press makes us locals seem patient and meek.

"Do you realize the mechanics of people that it takes for you to walk in and take your seat?" Marr asks politely.

Hotel people have deadline pressures, too. After learning the Obama camp had chosen the Hyatt for its election night location, Marr (who adds that he is on a first-name basis with Obama) jumped into action Thursday morning.

The hotel had five days to build a high-tech media center; lay fiber optics, accommodate satellite trucks, and install dozens of phone lines around all that steel and concrete; plan a party; and deal with everything from federal security agents to acquiring a 48-foot riser that would accommodate 250 people waving campaign signs.

"Try to find that in the city in the middle of an auto show," Marr quips.

Even the innocent delivery of some cupcakes kicked off a complicated and rule-rigid security procedure.

Forty hotel managers worked Tuesday night, as did 50 security officers, round-the-clock phone and Internet technicians and even an additional 10 servers in case the media suddenly decided to snatch up those $20 box lunches. (We didn't.)

"The infrastructure you didn't see is part of that price. So my $20 box lunch is really cheap," Marr says. "And I didn't even get my logo on the podium."

With all the rules and security, I scammed my way into the ballroom, only to get kicked out for reporting in a "non-reporting zone."

Frustration and panic were setting in, when the doors to the ballroom magically opened. Everyone (regardless of their passes or tickets) managed to get inside to report, film or just listen to Obama's speech.

Able to get a cell phone signal near the security station where I had been "patted down" earlier in the night, I went old school reporter, calling my journalist wife at home and dictating my story so she could polish my prose and e-mail it to my editor before my deadline.

Everything ended up well for Marr, too. He even got an e-mail from a CBS crew praising his entire operation.

And just like that, the media storm was over. Or was it?

Marr says, "I put the space on hold a long time ago for November."