Harrowing storm left mark on S.C.

WCSC-TV Charleston weatherman Charlie Hall cried as he signed off the air Sept. 20, 1989.

North Augusta resident Twyla Tuten remembers it vividly. She also remembers the popping sound of the transformers near her house as they blew when the power went out later that night. She remembers pulling her children from their beds to an inner room of the house and covering their bodies with hers.

It was the night Hurricane Hugo hit South Carolina's coastal areas, leaving behind a massive trail of destruction and more than 20 dead.

Today marks the 20th anniversary of the disaster.

Tuten, who was living with her family in Pinopolis near Moncks Corner at the time, talked with her husband about evacuating and driving to North Augusta to escape the storm. They ultimately decided to stay. Pinopolis, which is about 30 miles from the coast, was not under a mandatory evacuation notice as the coastal communities were.

"I guess they didn't think that was necessary," she said. "The TV stations signed off at 3 p.m. Hugo made landfall at 12:01 a.m."

Hugo developed from a tropical wave that moved off the coast of Africa on Sept. 9. It reached its peak intensity as a Category 5 hurricane as it moved toward the United States. Hugo made landfall in South Carolina as a Category 4 hurricane, which means it had wind speeds between 131 and 155 miles per hour and a storm surge of 13 to 18 feet.

"The front door blew open, and trees were falling into the attic. I got my children out of bed, laid them on the floor and put a light blanket over them in case the windows blew. At one point, I laid over my children's bodies. I thought we were going to die," Tuten said.

But God is good, she said. The Tuten family emerged from the storm unscathed.

Aiken was spared the majority of the hurricane's ferocity. The Aiken Standard reported that more than 3 inches of rain were dumped in this area while winds gusted up to 45 miles per hour. At least two trees fell onto houses but, for the most part, there was no widespread damage. Roads were littered with downed branches and a layer of pine needles.

Downtown Charleston suffered extensive damage, but reports of even more massive devastation came from the surrounding suburbs of Mount Pleasant, Sullivan's Island, Isle of Palms and Goose Creek.

The section of the Ben Sawyer Bridge that rotates 360 degrees to service traffic to and from Sullivan's Island and the Isle of Palms lay partially submerged in the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway after Hurricane Hugo hit, having been torn loose from its steel lock pivots. Sullivan's Island and the Isle of Palms were cut off from the mainland as a result.

SCE&G reported that 137,000 homes in Charleston had no power. There were about 570 miles of downed power lines. More than 60,000 people were left homeless.

Houses were ripped from their foundations. Beachfront homes were flattened. Furniture, debris and dead animals laid in the middle of streets.

Hugo was the most expensive tropical storm to ever hit the United States at the time. Damages were estimated at $7 billion for the nation.

Aiken Department of Public Safety Capt. Richard Abney was part of the convoy of local officials who traveled to the Mount Pleasant area to assist in the aftermath.

"I had never seen such widespread destruction," he said. "It was like driving into a battle zone. Buildings were demolished. Trees were uprooted. There was no electricity. When it got dark, it was dark. Words can't do it justice."

The convoy stayed in a hotel and was lucky enough to have electricity fairly quickly. The hotel was on the same power line circuit as a hospital. They took provisions and helped relieve local law enforcement in shifts.

"The stories people could tell you - they were quite harrowing. A gentleman in McClellanville said the water had risen so much, he swam out a window of his second-story bedroom and swam to the top of a tree.

"Something that always comes out of that are the relationships you forge," Abney said, adding that a friendship exists to this day between Aiken Public Safety and law enforcement in the Mount Pleasant area.

SCE&G had its system up and running in its entirety after about 18 days, said company Vice President Keller Kissam.

"Just about our entire system was down on the ground. I remember how appreciative people were when they got power back," he said.

The power company learned some lessons. Its transmission structures are now made of concrete and steel and are able to withstand 130- to 150-mile-per-hour winds. Before Hugo, the structures were wooden. Trees are trimmed away from power lines as a precaution, circuits are inspected regularly and the company conducts an annual hurricane drill.

SCE&G's storm manual was revised after Hugo.

"It was a humbling experience," Kissam said. "But Hurricane Hugo was our company's finest hour."

Then-Gov. Carroll Campbell stated that enough timber was lost within South Carolina to build a home for every family in West Virginia.

"Pinopolis lost 95 percent of its trees. We jokingly called ourselves Stumpville after that," Tuten said.

"Before Hugo" and "After Hugo." That's how Tuten measures her life now.

"People talked about getting back to normal. Life can't return to normal. You had to create a new normal," she said.

David Boyd, systems manager for the Aiken Standard, was employed at The (Charleston) Post and Courier in 1989.

The newspaper is the headquarters for Evening Post Publishing Company, which owns the Aiken Standard, and it is located on Columbus Street in downtown Charleston.

"I was assigned to the emergency crew, and they said, 'We need you to stay,'" Boyd said. "Up until that point, it was a lark. No one expected it to be as big as it was."

Big it was. By 8 p.m., Hugo was growing violent. Boyd watched from the newspaper's windows as roofs and power poles sailed by. Later, it grew amazingly quiet, and he decided to make his way home.

"The only light available was the occasional power line sparking," Boyd said.

The city's electricity had long gone down.

Everything at the newspaper was done by hand that night. Employees hand-scrubbed plates to develop them.

"The Post and Courier had never missed a publication day, and we weren't going to miss that one," Boyd said.