By: George Garneau
Keeping Their Heads Above Water p. 9
Georgia newspapers report dramatic flood stories despite vacation-reduced news staffs, submerged roads, spotty utility services and threats to family and property sp.
THE SKIES OPENED up over southwest Georgia and dumped over 21 inches of rain in 24 hours, enough to burst dams, wash out bridges, sweep cars off roads and raise the dead ? as in floating caskets.
At least 28 people died in a week of flooding that has submerged downtowns, forced the evacuation of over 30,000 homes and left hundreds of thousands of people without drinking water.
Near Americus, a woman screaming for help from the roof of a car sank beneath muddy floodwaters with a three-year-old boy in her arms as the car washed down an embankment ? and bystanders stood by helplessly.
Turbulent floodwaters lifted more than 100 coffins afloat from two Albany cemeteries and spilled corpses from several of them.
The area's newspapers, meanwhile, reported these and other dramatic stories ? despite vacation-reduced news staffs, flooded roads, spotty utility services and threats to family and property.
In some instances, with cable TV service shut down and local radio stations silenced, small-town dailies were the only source of news during the first days of flash flooding.
In a region where floods are rare, it was the worst flooding ever in some areas, and the worst in 60 years in others.
President Clinton declared 43 counties a federal disaster area after 150 state and national highways were closed.
The remnants of Tropical Storm Alberto, trapped for days over the area, unleashed torrential rains July 5-7, overflowing ponds and lakes, inundating lowlands and swelling rivers into vast, deadly washes.
In Albany, the Flint River rose steadily before cresting at 45 feet, more than double the 20-foot flood level, as it gained momentum rampaging southward.
Dramatic stories hit newspapers close to home. A production staffer at the 7,400-circulation Americus Times-Recorder was driving with her husband and daughter when floodwaters overturned their car and trapped them under water, where they nearly drowned but for a quick rescue by her husband, who escaped out a window and freed his family.
As best as could be determined, no dailies failed to print, their buildings on high ground, though in some cases water rose to within a block.
Thousands of newspapers went undelivered in the early days because flooding isolated rural areas. Businesses cancelled advertising because stores and car dealers had shut down.
For the area's small rural dailies, the floods were mostly a story of long hours, resourcefulness and teamwork. They mostly got the job done, sometimes enlisting airplanes and helicopters for aerial photos, and even delivering papers.
Publishers wrote stories. Ad staffers took pictures and stuffed plastic bags. Journalists worked 12 to 20 hours a day.
It was an immense test that brought out the best in the industry. In an outpouring of solidarity, newspapers around the state rallied to offer assistance to flood-bound colleagues, though no dailies were so waterlogged that they had to rely on the kindness of strangers.
Swamped in Americus
"We're working a lot of hours doing everything we can to inform the public," said Daryl Henning, publisher of the 3,400-circulation Americus Times-Recorder. "People are pulling together doing everything thing we can."
For the fist day and a half, cable TV and radio service were out, leaving the Times-Recorder the only means of mass communications, he said.
Henning upped the print run about 500 a day, and though workers could reach fewer than half the newsracks in the town, demand was so strong that 15 newsracks sold more papers than all 38 normally do, he said.
Despite the use of boats to deliver papers, the paper failed to reach about 2,500 subscribers for a couple of days because dozens of bridges and roads were closed.
When they could reach the airport, photographers flew in helicopters and planes to capture images of the flooding.
Papers that did get out had little advertising.
"We can't sell advertising because businesses are closed," Henning said.
Such adversity "makes the newspaper business interesting," Henning said. "Unfortunately we lost 13 people confirmed dead, and we expect it to go to 20. It's an exciting time but its also a sad time."
Asked about financial damage, Henning said, "I haven't thought about it."
Albany divided
The Flint River normally divides Albany in two, but floods boosted the split. With the bridge shut, the normal one-minute drive to the other side of town became a three-hour journey via a bridge 50 miles away.
The Albany Herald,, located a block and a half from the river, managed to stay dry, according to publisher Christian Schilt.
To get to readers across the river, it eventually harnessed a small helicopter, which needed 20 trips to haul 5,000 papers to the other side.
The Herald initially lost access to some rural customers but hoped to service all but a few thousand of its 37,000 print run in 23 counties. Whatever papers could not be delivered on time were sent later in "vacation" packages.
Cut off from drinking water, with some reporters isolated on the east side of town, the Herald called up stringers, part-timers and staffers from its agricultural paper to cover the floods.
"This is going to wash out our overtime budget," said Schilt, whose news staff of 35 was already short by dint of vacations.
About 20,000 people evacuated their homes around Albany. Before the river crested, the Herald ? amid phone problems, sporadic electrical service and with no alternate power source ? was readying laptop computers and coordinating plans to fly computer disks and staffers to the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer to make up and print the Herald, if necessary.
Schilt complimented the Ledger-Enquirer for volunteering its help.
He said businesses cancelled about 20% of advertising, especially car dealers but also malls, as the city ground nearly to a halt.
"We're still intact and putting out a paper," he said. "It's just hours and staff for a major event."
Asked about a potential advertising boom, from home repair supplies and services after the flood, Schilt said: "We'll need it, because we haven't done well this week."
Working publisher?
Darren Drevik, publisher and general manager of the 5,800-circulation Cordele Dispatch, was drafted into journalism: shooting pictures from a helicopter and writing stories.
He nearly doubled the news hole, adding between four and eight pages to the Dispatch's normal 12.
With "hardly any" advertising, he justified the expense saying, "Around here, there's hardly any other way to get information. So we gotta do what we gotta do."
Drevik filled out the ranks of a three-person news staff, one person short by virtue of a vacationer.
"You know you're tight staffed when you've got the publisher up in a helicopter taking pictures and writing stories," he said. "Its amazing what you can do if you just give up on things like sleep."
He said his editor put in 20-hour days and worked virtually around the clock.
Drevik printed 450 extra copies and gave them free to area Macon Telegraph subscribers, who were briefly cut off from their regular paper.
Otis Raybon Jr., publisher of the Griffin Daily News, a 12,00-circulation Thomson paper 40 miles south of Atlanta, said the biggest problem was reaching rural subscribers, 1,500 to 2,000 of whom were cut off for a time by 51 closed roads in Spalding County. In some instances, police turned back carriers, but most customers got the paper within a day or two.
Advertising was not significantly affected, he said.
The Atlanta Journal and Constitution and other area papers called to offer assistance, but the Daily News never had to take its disaster plans off the shelf.
"I thought that was very kind and generous and shows the newspaper industry pulling together," Raybon said.
Macon makin' it by
The Ocmulgee River running through Macon peaked at 35 feet, five feet over the record and nearly double the official flood level of 18 feet. The area lost Interstates 75 and 16 for a while, and 165,000 people in Bibb County lost their drinking water.
Perched one block from the river, the Macon Telegraph escaped damage, but the flood disrupted delivery to about 8,000 of its 76,000 press run, president and publisher Ed Olson said. Those subscribers got papers a day late.
He reported some lost advertising as stores closed or were flooded. Water service was expected to be out for two weeks.
Thomson teamwork
Thomson Newspapers took advantage of their clustering in the area and shared news during the flooding.
The Americus Times-Recorder and its area sister papers coordinated their coverage through Thomson's Washington bureau, which acted as a clearinghouse to receive and distribute stories from Georgia.
Valdosta Daily Times managing editor Gerald Guy said his paper was marginally hit by the flood, but added two pages a day to its news hole to accommodate nine to 12 flood stories a day from other Thomson papers. The Daily Times even sent a car to Americus to pick up film negatives.
The flood created an unquenchable thirst, pardon the expression, for news.
Thomson papers in Americus, Tipton, Dalton, Cordele and Thomasville ? all without Sunday editions ? teamed up to publish a combined eight-page special Sunday edition. It was printed in Valdosta, and each version carried that paper's nameplate.
In Cordele, an initial Sunday print run of 4,000 sold out by 9 a.m., Dispatch publisher Drevik said. So he ordered 25,000 more, 16,000 of which had been sold by Monday ? all at a paper with daily circulation under 6,000. The Dispatch donated 5% of the sales of the special editions to the Red Cross.
"This area is not used to flooding. It's catastrophic when it happens," Valdosta Daily Times managing editor Gerald Guy said, quipping that only a major catastrophe was big enough news to knock O.J. Simpson's murder hearing off the front page.
Local vs. national view
The floods were the biggest story of Judy Schramm's career. The 26-year old reporter at the 3,400-circulation Americus Times-Recorder was one of the two staff writers ? the third is on vacation ? who worked 12-hour days along with the sports editor, a photo stringer and an advertising representative drafted as photographer.
Duties ranged from covering stories of life-and-death drama to the mundane obituaries and listings of where to find shelter to interviews with the national media.
When local radio and TV out and national media reporting the sweep of the disaster, local papers play a broad role, Schramm said.
"Our role is a little different than out-of-town papers. They are covering the flood of the century. We are trying to get the town together and bring back order, "Schramm said."
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