Little Debby evokes Matthew memories

As Debby was slow dancing her way up the coast toward Robeson County, trying to figure out if she would identify as a tropical storm or hurricane before planting a big, wet one on us all, I had several thoughts. Foremost was this: It will be nice to ride out a major storm without being burdened by covering it.

I do not know exactly how many hurricanes I covered as a journalist, although I suppose I could take off my shoes and begin counting. But I remember vividly when Hurricane Fran was approaching Robeson County in 1996, and I was editor of The Robeson Extra, a weekly newspaper published by The Fayetteville Observer.

I gave my staff a pep talk and their assignment: “I need you to risk your limbs and life, go out into the eye of Fran, find compelling stories whose value will have expired if and when they are read. There is, you see, only a slight chance they will be published in a newspaper, and should that happen, that paper likely will not be delivered, and if it is delivered, it is likely to be washed away before retrieved. Got it? Be safe out there. Go team.”

I do not want to suggest that newspapers do not have a crucial role in preparing a community for a hurricane, but the real value is in telling folks what to expect and how to prepare, and not what happened. That task was made much easier by the introduction of the internet, which enabled the delivery of the news instantaneously.

I believe my high-water mark as a journalist came during Hurricane Matthew, which arrived early on Saturday, Oct. 8, 2016, while I was writing an editorial at The Robesonian office on Roberts Avenue, with plans to head to Chapel Hill to watch my Tar Heels play Virginia Tech in football.

I noticed the parking lot beginning to flood and realized not only would there not be a trip to Chapel Hill, which spared me watching a 34-3 shellacking in a tropical storm, but that I better find higher ground before being trapped in the office. When reporter Sarah Willets called mid-afternoon and told me water was entering the building, I knew my life had just gotten harder, and that covering the hurricane was going to be challenging.

The next morning, I wandered outside punch drunk, surveyed the landscape, and came upon a stranded elderly couple in the parking lot at Pinecrest Country Club who needed to find gasoline. Eager to help, I told them to stay put, and I would find an open convenience store and return.

As I approached Interstate 95, a Highway Patrol officer stopped me, told me the interstate was closed heading north, and the closest gasoline station open was in Laurinburg.

I checked my tank, which was half full, headed home, packed and three hours later, with the blessing of my publisher, was in a hotel room in Charlotte, computer booted up, providing need-to-know information through Facebook concerning Matthew. I was assisted by reporters Willets and Michael Gellatly, may he RIP, who were on the ground in Robeson, doing the real work without transportation, power, the ability to rest and even bathe.

That night, The Robesonian got a shoutout from Rachel Maddow, who tweeted that the newspaper was still putting out news despite having an office that was underwater and a disabled press.

Thus began a week of getting up at 6 a.m. and working until 8 p.m. doing the best we could as a staff as my number of Facebook friends doubled from about 1,000 to 2,000. We provided updates on the flooding, power restoration, shelter locations, and where to find food, water and clothing and other necessities.

Mid-week, a former colleague of mine at The Fayetteville Observer, suggested a Pulitzer for The Robesonian, which of course did not happen. The thought, however, was appreciated.

We did not know it then, but that week provided the template for Hurricane Florence in 2018, when again I fled to higher ground, this time to Raleigh and with a kitten named Boots by my side, where we did it all again.

On Day 7 in Charlotte, mission mostly accomplished, I prepared to head back to Lumberton, but not before watching Nick Weiler kick a 54-yard field goal as time expired as UNC defeated Florida State, 37-35.

It was a much better ending than beginning to a week of highs and lows and allowed me to smile on the way home.