I lived through Hurricane Hugo from a different point of view than many of you (”many of you” being a inaccurate, worthless throwaway phrase said too frequently on TV news). But this time, “many of you” is likely an accurate description. My point of view is of a Myrtle Beach resident who had to evacuate and honestly didn’t know if he would  have a dwelling for he and his family to return to.

I moved to Myrtle Beach in 1985 to work at The Sun News, which once was a great newspaper until all the good newspeople who were there when I was were forced to (and choose your phrase), move elsewhere, “quit” or “leave.” In 1989, we were a great newspaper with great people and a great editor, Gil Thelen. Hurricanes were a way of life in Myrtle Beach, and we had been brushed by a few my first few years there. Hugo was a different animal. We had followed its progress in the Atlantic and took special notice when it had its eye (literally speaking) on the south Atlantic coast.

I was one of the top weather freaks in the newsroom and anytime the weather got dicey, the TV over in the design/sports area stayed on The Weather Channel, which was a handy thing in those days because weather was actually shown. NO DOCUMENTARIES. Actual weather. We would be watching for those updated hurricane advisories every six hours and for the strike charts in particular.

Hugo kept up its progress  and we started making contingency plans to produce the  newspaper in Columbia at The State, then as now owned by the same company. The designers and an editor or two would be going to Columbia, the other folks fanning out in the county and beyond if they were going to evacuate. Florence would be a safe destination. Yep.

The hurricane kept the coast in its sights and the decision was made Wednesday morning that the team would go to Columbia Thursday because things were starting to look ominous. I started to get a little nervous. A lot of other people in the newsroom were getting very nervous.

The morning of Thursday, Sept. 21, dawned beautifully. How ironic. My family of four lived in an apartment at the time, and listening to all the descriptions of the damage that could occur with this storm, I was honestly worried that I might not have an apartment building to come home to. Suddenly, “things” weren’t that important. I had no idea how long it would take to get back home, so I filled my car and my trunk with lots of my clothes and my wife’s (at that time). I also made sure to get all the photo albums and a few other important type things. Just in case, you understand.

Thursday was our normal pay day, so I wandered by the office on my way out of town (the rest of my family left for Columbia earlier) to pick up my check. It could be cashed later. We were hearing horror stories in the newsroom that U.S. 501, at that time the only way across the Intracoastal Waterway, was jammed. Packed with cars. I had already choden to take a different route. I went down U.S. 17 to Georgetown, where I could get on U.S. 521 and go north. (I also knew I could go by Cruisers when I was down there and  get burgers and fried to eat on the way. Always thinking about food!)

I reached 521 and started heading inland, through Andrews and Salters to Manning, where I got on S.C. 261 and took a shortcut through Paxville and Pinewood and came in on U.S. 378 far west of Sumter just past Shaw Air Force Base. I had noticed the sky looking a hair unusual on 521, as I looked southeast and sawan odd cloud formation. Half of the sky was clear; the other half, omniously cloudy.

I got to Columbia and before I went to my in-laws’ house (where we would be staying), I went by Kroger to cash my paycheck (there was an in-store location of my bank there). We had already determined that we would meet at The State at 6 to check in and get comfortable with the surroundings and our workspace. We also saw some folks from The Post and Courier in Charleston, who were going to bunk over at The State.

Around 9 or 10, I headed back to the in-laws’ house, which wasn’t that far away. I started watching TV coverage of the storm in the kitchen on the portable TV, which limited me to over-the-air stations. I believe it was CBS that had live coverage of the coast, then NBC. Around 2 a.m., all of the TV options were gone and I headed to bed. No problems so far, althoufght I went to bed knowing that the hurricane had come ashore near Charleston. That’s all we knew at that time.

At 5:30 a.m. (and I knew this because I looked at the alarm clock), I was awakened by a freight train overhead. That would be Mr. Hugo F. Hurricane making its presence known in Columbia. It knocked out power … and scared me to death.

I woke up at 7:30 to no electricity and got dressed to go to work that way. I road I took to the newspaper thankfully wasn’t blocked by limbs or power lines. There was power at the newspaper office and we somehow managed to produce Saturday’s newspaper. But it was a smaller one in terms of pages. We had one sports page that I remember doing. Most of it was reports from our reporters.  The word from back at the beach was that it wasn’t as bad there as it was down the coast near Charleston … and inland, like in the Charlotte area.

We got the paper done around 7ish and I went looking for food, but that was tough. A lot of fast food places were closed because of a lack of power and I honestly can’t remember if I ever found anything. I don’t remember that I even had lunch that day. I got back to the in-laws and they were still without power … and air conditioning. That was a long Friday evening, kids. No radio, no TV, no moving air … whew.

I got out of there Saturday morning and started heading back to the beach. It was an interesting drive to see holes in forests where trees had formerly been. There was a long line of cars trying to get back to the beach and we were slowly allowed back in. My apartment was still stading … less a grand total of two shingles, which I was good with. The next three or so weeks were interesting. There were curfews and life was briefly changed. We could have done much worse at Myrtle Beach. We could haver been in Charlotte.

Other hurricanes while I was at the beach were more interesting … like the one that left enough water to flood the downstairs of our house. We had been talking about getting new carpet …

But meteorogically speaking, 1989 was a doozy at Myrtle Beach. We had Hugo in September and on the night of December 22, snow began falling. When it eneded on Christmas Eve morning, a foot and a half of snow had fallen at Myrtle Beach. Even ON the beach. What a fun day or two or three that was.

No one sang “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas” that year and remeined uninjured or upright.

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