When Hugo roared in, we all fumbled through the darkness, asking a perfectly reasonable question:
"What is going on?"
We'd taken some comfort in a forecast of gusty winds and frequent downpours. A bit edgy, but nothing unusual for the remains of a hurricane.
Then we were startled awake by crashing trees, exploding electrical transformers and a baffling roar. What was that sound? Was it water?
No, it was wind, tearing through towering oaks at speeds of up to 90 mph.
This was not according to plan. That led to another surprise. No one could get an update.
The power was out. That meant no TV. No radio, either, unless it came with batteries. Some phones worked, but emergency numbers were jammed.
"What is going on?"
Many of us then got a visitor whose headlights gleamed through the tangled mess of power lines and tree trunks.
It was a carrier, delivering that day's Charlotte Observer.
The U.S. mail would not resume delivery for more than five days. Power would remain lost for up to three weeks. But even as the storm barreled in, 1,000 Observer carriers had spread out across the Carolinas to deliver the only news most people could get.
To do otherwise was unthinkable. Those carriers understood. They were the final leg of a daily mission to explain "what was going on."
Kirk Wilson, the Observer's senior circulation manager, just kept driving that Friday morning when a falling tree glanced off one side of his Jeep on Sharon Road.
"We got the papers out of our distribution centers just before it hit," Kirk recalls. "We ended up delivering papers all day. That's because we had to walk a lot of streets. You just couldn't get through with a vehicle."
On Saturday, some carriers returned to their routes with chain saws.
Twenty years later, fate has us serving a growing number of Observer readers through the Web - yet another medium that relies on power to reach you.
But we also still print and deliver newspapers. And because so many people prefer that format, we intend to keep doing this for a long time to come.
Just as important, we're still prepared to provide the news you'll need to pull through that next public emergency, be it a flood, an ice storm or a flu pandemic.
Hugo was one of those moments.
Barely 24 hours after the storm, our newsroom produced an extraordinary edition packed with reports of damage from Charleston to Charlotte and beyond. Every story, photo and graphic in that edition's expanded, 14-page A-section centered on Hugo and its aftermath.
It included the reporting of Lolo Pendergrast, who rode out the hurricane with Charlestonians, then filed some of the earliest accounts of the devastation at the coast.
Lolo described historic churches missing steeples, cottages reduced to concrete slabs and pleasure boats shoved onto city streets.
Looking back, she thinks readers especially appreciated the damage reports she and others filed, town by town.
"It was important for people to get any kind of news," says Lolo, who now teaches second grade at Merry Oaks Elementary School in Charlotte.
Lolo was part of a team of journalists who reported Hugo's effects along the coasts of both Carolinas. When the hurricane churned inland, we knew we needed another team. That would take most of the rest of the newsroom.
So, as Hugo exited Charlotte, newsroom employees apologized to their dazed families and tore off to work.
Karen Garloch, the Observer's medical writer, could hardly recognize her normal commute along Park Road.
"The strangest thing was the landscape that looked like it was all blanketed in green snow," Karen says. "It was the leaves blown off of trees."
Nancy Webb, then a reporter, came outside to find her car pinned in by a fallen tree and a live power line. A fellow journalist with four-wheel drive picked her up, along with others who couldn't get out on their own.
"It was like carpooling for a good cause," says Nancy, now part of the Observer's editorial board. "Pretty much everything after, on that day, was a blur. We just kept reporting and calling stories in."
Everywhere we turned, people needed advice on matters they had never considered before.
Where to report a downed power line. How to file an insurance claim. Who had gas. Who had ice. How to flush a toilet without running water. When to stop eating what's in your refrigerator.
Editors Dave Enna and Gary Nielson compiled list after list of tips and answers, taking guidance from readers as well as our staff.
So many businesses were closed that we found it more helpful to list the banks, drug stores and grocery stores that were open. Early on, Charlotte was down to three Harris Teeters and two Food Lions.
"It was the most exciting time I've ever spent in a newsroom," said Gary, now a market relations specialist for our parent company, McClatchy. "Dave and I were giving people indispensable information in a time of crisis."
This is the spirit of a mission-driven newspaper. We have no higher calling than to serve our community. And when calamity strikes, we won't rest until you've had a chance to regain your footing.
That's the deal, and we cherish it.
Thank you for turning to us in your times of need.






