Your Hugo Stories

Hello, recently my Aunt, who lives in Columbia, passed on that The State is looking for stories about Hurricane Hugo and that I may want to share my experience. My story is definitely not as scary or profound as those who went through the storm, but it goes to show how far the stories of Hugo, or other hurricanes, can reach.

Hurricane Hugo is one we will NEVER forget. We were all bracing ourselves for the onslaught, not knowing what to expect. As the Hurricane headed toward the S.C , coast, my husband and I were glued to the TV waiting for any news that we could hear.

I had evacuated to Atlanta for the weekend, and returned home Sunday (second row in North Myrtle Beach) three minutes before the 8 p.m. curfew. I was relieved to be on time as I had everything valuable I owned in my car but no proof I owned it. I was also lucky to get there at all, as it was hard to find a gas station that was open.

The dazzling sunlight and brilliant blue waves pounding the sand vividly gave contrast to the chaotic scene that lay along the way as we gingerly walked down Waccamaw Avenue.

The spring after Hugo, on the west side of my husband’s family’s beach home on Pawleys Island, I noticed a small tomato plant coming up. I put some bricks around it to make sure it wasn’t mowed down.

I was a senior at the Medical University of South Carolina when Hurricane Hugo blew into town.

I was working at Belk downtown Columbia in 1989. The afternoon before Hugo hit, I went onto the roof of the store and watched the clouds build.

In September of 1989 I had just moved to Hartsville, SC from Rock Hill to teach chemistry at the South Carolina Governor’s School for Science and Mathematics (SCGSSM). I had announced to my classes that they would have their first test on Friday, Sept. 22.

The storm impacted my life in such a profound manner that I've spent the past three years writing a novel that takes place in 1989. It's about a seventeen-year-old girl whose life is turned upside down by Hugo.

Hello, I was there. I considered my self an expert at the time because I'm from south Mississippi, and lived thru Camille in 1969.

Two days before the storm, my longtime friend and Charleston native called, “Can you take us all?” she asked. “Sure, we’ll find places for everybody somewhere,” I answered as I as assessed my modest abode.

I was living in Charleston and working as a nurse at Southern Pines Hospital. That evening on 2nd shift we heard the news as warning to evacuate!

“If you haven’t left town by now, it’s too late. All we can do is pray.”

When Hugo blew into Summerville, the winds had reached 133 mph. I likened the devastation to that of a war zone.

In September 1989, I was a senior geology major at the College of Charleston.

I was seven years old and initially was asleep when the storm began, but a couple hours into the storm I work up when I heard branches snap.

Hurricane Hugo was the defining moment in my tenure as the Chief Insurance Commissioner of South Carolina. I had once read that “insurance is to the economy what oxygen is to air” and after Hurricane Hugo, I became a true believer.

My husband, David, and I are from Rock Hill. He was in the Air Force and assigned to the Pentagon when Hurricane Hugo hit South Carolina.

I remember Hurricane Hugo very well. A few days before the storm hit, a hard knot popped up on the side of my son's head. The doctor told me he had an infection of the carotid artery and that if it didn't get better with the antibiotics, he would have to be hospitalized.

The Do Nothin' Club, a group of old men from Chapin Methodist Church, who have met for years at a local "greasy spoon," decided to form a "Chain Saw Brigade" in order to attack the ravages of Hurricane Hugo.

I remember it well. Anyone living in South Carolina at the time has a Hugo story. Even if you weren't directly impacted, you knew someone who was or you were involved in some way.

At the time Hugo hit I was in middle school and living just out side of Eastover, half way between Columbia and Sumter.

My husband and I were thoroughly ignorant of hurricanes, having moved here from Ohio. I heard that a hurricane was coming but the day was so lovely, I could not believe it. I made no preparations.

There have been many stories about animals sensing danger and knowing in advance about approaching storms, etc. I think I witnessed an example of this.

The weather report said that we could probably hold the 8 p.m. show and finish it before Hugo posed a great danger to the theatre in Columbia. We indeed did hold the show that evening.