(Continued from Part 1)
Having determined that there was most definitely a hardware problem with the server, and now that it was back up and running (albeit with tape being the lynch-pin of the whole thing), I did a quick search for IBM’s support number and gave them a call. Surprisingly, there was no wait, and I was passed to an agent. Also not surprising, after spending ten minutes giving them information, they finally determined that my company had never contacted them for support before, and I had to give them my contact information again while they created an account. Once that was done, and the agent was armed with a brief description of my problem, I was transferred to Hardware Support.
The agent I spoke with there quickly agreed that this was a serious problem, and was slightly mortified that I was using tape to keep the server running, despite the fact I had little other choice. He also agreed with me that the problem was likely with the micro-switch in the power button and ordered a replacement for the whole ‘front panel diagnostic assembly’. That done, he informed me that a local technician would be contacting me shortly to confirm a time for a service call.
Apparently, despite the fact that replacing that particular part was nearly as easy as it gets, IBM, unlike Dell, insists on sending a tech. Whatever. I was just happy to get the problem fixed.
The next day, I received a call from the local IBM guy. He let me know that the part had come in and he’d drop by later that afternoon. I scheduled the downtime with my users and waited.
When he arrived, right on time, he didn’t have good news. Opening the box, we didn’t find the ‘front panel diagnostic assembly’, but instead the power button. Not the switch, mind you, but the actual solid-plastic-thing-that-your-finger-presses-which-in-turn-presses-the-switch. (If you are looking for where the power button is on an x3400, check out this post).
Chalking it up to a mistake at the call centre, IBM Dude ordered the correct part and told me he’d call back when it came in. I wasn’t really that concerned, as the tape was still holding on. Or so I thought.
The following morning (now on Day 3), I came in to find that the tape had betrayed me and set the button free during the night, taking the server down again. After a little fighting, as now the server didn’t want to power up on the first press – I had to fight with it a little to get it actually turn on, I re-taped the switch with electrical tape, and crossed my fingers that the Exchange databases and logs were intact. Fortunately, they were.
Not long after, IBM Dude called again to say the right part was in. However, after ‘testing’ the switch a few times, the though he heard a *snap* sound and the button wasn’t quite pressing right anymore. As a result, he said that he’d order two more switches and let me know when they’d come in. Once again, I wasn’t that worried. Sure, it was Thursday, but surely the replacements would be in by the next day, and the whole thing would be fixed by then. I left early for the day, and was nearly home, getting ready to relax, when my cell rang. The Exchange server was down again.
Swearing under my breath as I wandered back in to my office, I found that the electrical tape had let go – apparently it doesn’t stick to a metal case anywhere near as well as scotch tape. I fought with the switch a little more before getting it powered on again, and this time I secured the button with enough tape to silence a large choir. After confirming it booted to Windows, I was just about to leave again when a staff member came by and said they still couldn’t get in to Outlook.
Consoling in to the server, I loaded up the Exchange Management Console and had a look around. That’s when I discovered the the First Storage Group wasn’t mounting.
Shit.
(Continued in Part 3).
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