Twenty-five years ago tonight. Y2K.
In late 1999 I was working as a technical trainer at a software company (the same one I’m working for today, in fact, just under another name). Our workforce had been divided into four groups — people who would work 8 pm to 8 am Tuesday through Thursday, people who would work 8 pm to 8 am Friday through Monday, and two more groups who would do the daytime equivalents. I asked to be on the group that would be on duty at midnight on Y2K proper because I wanted to be able to say “I was there when…”
However, I was the only person on duty in my building; most of the programming engineers and analysts were in the main building or the other satellite building and I was based in the building that was shared with accounting and other ancillary services. The accountants and such were all home in bed since they really couldn’t contribute anything if Y2K problems actually did occur.
Amusingly, the company did a test startup of our emergency generator at the main building on the afternoon of December 31 — and it blew up/caught on fire. So much for preparedness.
Carole was on duty at the Vermont Symphony Orchestra operations at First Night Burlington until 10 or 11 pm or so, but she came down to visit me as midnight approached. We shared a bottle of sparkling cider and did our own little countdown, wondering if the lights were suddenly going to go out or, well, SOMETHING.
Nothing did happen.
At all.
Carole went home and I spent the rest of the night web surfing and periodically standing up to restore circulation to my butt and otherwise contributing absolutely nothing to the wellbeing of humanity.
As it all turned out, maybe one or two of our customers had issues that night, and all of said issues were in third party software that interfaced with ours; our software had no issues whatsoever.
After about three days of 12-on/12-off shifts with nothing happening, the company quietly said “Never mind, go back to doing what you were doing” and we all returned to normal shifts.