Phil Lewis: Telling Wilma's story

Reprinted from the Oct., 30, 2005 edition

As this is being written a tropical storm is forming off the coast of Central America. Forecasters say it could become Hurricane Beta.

First Alpha and now Beta. I hate it.

When Wilma was born we ran out of names, a first for this part of the world. The powers that be decided that if we ever exhaust our yearly list of storm names, the Greek alphabet would be recruited. It's never been done before, meaning the 2005 hurricane season, which started June 1 and ends Nov. 30, has been the busiest on record.

If there's one thing I've learned in 27 years of Southwest Florida living, it's that every storm is different. No two are alike. They each have a personality and they each need a proper name.

A Greek letter shouldn't do. We need a real name, something personal that can be attached — for history's sake — to their unpredictable results.

Take Wilma, a rare storm that was to hit us from the west instead of the south or east. The Daily News was expecting the worst. Donna back in 1960 was the last big hit and the storm surge flooded much of the city.

With that in mind, we made plans to all but evacuate our newspaper offices on Central Avenue in Naples, 10 blocks from the beach.

It's not unusual for Central Avenue to flood during one of our hard, summer afternoon rains. If Wilma was going to strike us as a Category 2 or Category 3, we figured on a flooded first floor and a loss of power. Neither would be conducive to printing a daily newspaper.

Our staff moved a few tons of computer equipment up the stairs from our first floor to our second-floor public meeting room. Portable air conditioning units were set up to keep the equipment as cool as possible.

Managing Editor Bill Blanton and New Media Director Rob Curley went scouting for an off-site newsroom, one that would likely remain dry and have power.

Both Golden Gate High School and Florida Gulf Coast University graciously offered facilities. Bill and Rob chose Alico Arena on the campus of FGCU. It had a generator and it was farther north and inland from our Central Avenue plant, which by some predictions was smack in the storm's cross-hairs.

They packed up computers, satellite telephones and a huge satellite dish on Sunday evening and moved into Alico. Our thought was to not miss a beat in reporting the news by keeping our Web site going around the clock. Reporters and photographers were dispatched in rented trucks and SUVs, with instructions to report to Alico after the storm. We would have copy editors on hand to take the stories and photos and build pages for a Tuesday print edition.

If Wilma knocked our computers and printing press out of commission in Naples, we could transmit our digital news pages via satellite at Alico to our sister newspaper on Florida's Treasure Coast for printing. Then the Tuesday edition could be trucked to us for distribution either late Tuesday morning or Tuesday afternoon.

That was the plan, but these predictable storms always bring the unpredictable.

Central Avenue flooded, but the water rose no higher than the sandbags guarding our first-floor doors. While Wilma knocked out electricity throughout most of Southwest Florida, the lights only blinked a time or two on Central Avenue. We had power.

Meanwhile, more than 20 miles to the north and farther from Wilma's eye, Alico Arena went dark. The generator kicked in, but we knew it wasn't going to supply enough juice to keep our makeshift newsroom operating.

By noon Monday, Wilma was pretty much done with the Southwest Florida coast, so our reporters, photographers and editors rushed to the Central Avenue office. Thanks to a prior arrangement with Sheriff Don Hunter and Naples Mayor Bill Barnett, the sheriff's deputies and police officers let Daily News employees through the roadblocks that were set up in and around the city.

With power, Internet access, telephones and cable television we were ready to put together and print a newspaper on Central Avenue — except for one problem. No water.

The many trees ripped from the ground by Wilma cut water lines in the city, and you cannot run our high-speed press without water.

A few years back we installed a well at our Central Avenue offices for just such an occasion. The electric pump was put into action. It wasn't perfect but it allowed us to start the press about 1:30 a.m. Tuesday. By 6 a.m. all the papers were printed. Delivery, however, was slowed by roadblocks, downed trees and a curfew.

Still, we kept our string going. We haven't missed a day's publication since becoming a daily back in the 1960s.

Meanwhile, the worst was happening to our brethren on Florida's East Coast.

Wilma didn't blow herself out over Collier County. She hit Miami and Fort Lauderdale with unexpected fury. For the first time in its history, the Miami Herald was unable to print an edition in Miami. Power also kept the Sun-Sentinel in Fort Lauderdale from using its press.

Each newspaper had an emergency plan. The Herald printed Tuesday's edition at the Tampa Tribune and had it trucked 220 miles south that afternoon for a late distribution. The Sun-Sentinel was printed at the Orlando Sentinel and trucked in.

Wilma did what the powerful Andrew couldn't do. She stopped the presses.

Every storm is different. No two are alike. They each have a personality and they each need a proper name.

Phil Lewis is editor of the Daily News; his e-mail address is pplewis@naplesnews.com