It was a blustery, wintery day and the warmth of the sun was not nearly strong enough to combat the winds that seemed to pierce the skin. The client was entrenched deep in his work. Having captured a sacred occasion onto digital media through the lens of a camera, he was now engaged in the art of image manipulation. The client's assistant was responsible for the music that day, and satisfied his obligation by lugging 100's of discs into the office upon his arrival that morning. Both client and employee were grateful that their vocation did not require them to stay outdoors.
Noon came unannounced. Various musical artists who graced the office with their digital presence that morning (P.O.D., Thousand Foot krutch, The Mars Volta, All Star United, and Skillet) were now silent. The joyful atmosphere that was adament that morning was replaced by doom and feelings of despair. Tensions mounted. There was a thickness in the air that demanded silence. Upon reviewing the evidence, it appeared that the compact disc in the tray entitled "Silage" was not at fault, but it was happenstance that the accident occured at the exact time of insertion. The client inserted the disc and at precisely the same moment as he located and pressed the "import" button on his iTunes interface, the melodies ceased and Fear began to bully it's way to the front of his emotions. Of the three external hard drives that reside on the client's workstation, the middle one, a 150 GB storage unit containing more than 5 days worth of music, and more than 50 designs and client folders, had faltered and appeared to have failed. Panic was right behind Fear. But, with the calm assurance that previous experience had taught him, the client resolved to push back the approaching emotions and attempt the restoration programs he had installed on his machine in the event of a malfunction.
The first attempt proved unsuccessful. As did the second, third and fourth.
An $80 program was downloaded in a futile effort to restore what was lost.
Then came the electronic conversation with the help department, in which advice was given as the situation was voiced.
The new program aptly named "DiskWarrior" became available for installation, and was immediately researched and understood.
There was morning and there was evening. The first day. Sleep came surprisingly easy.
There was morning the following day. All bets were off as the DiskWarrior interface was loaded and initiated somewhere around noon, with the assumption that all was lost. I cannot describe the feelings of the following 12.5 hours as DW grinded and whirred and moaned it's way to the completion of the repair. At very least, the files which remained intact could be salvaged. There was little time for worry. Much work needed to be completed and the day went on. Music once again filled the room, this time being aquired from the client's iPod. At approximately 1:35am last evening, the DiskWarrior (aided by much prayer and Holy Spirit intervention) repaired the damaged disc and salvaged the 100GB of music, pictures, advertising, designs and client files that were previously unreachable.
There was much rejoicing in the office, and the client walked to his room, and climbed into bed with his sleeping wife.
Case closed, copied and reformatted.
