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Carolina Weather Group Presents: A look back at Superstorm 1993

Marion_NC_WX

By Marion_NC_WX,
in Southeastern States

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Marion_NC_WX

Marion_NC_WX

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Just over a month from now we are going to travel back 22 years ago and re-live one of the most significant mid-latitude storms to affect the US. From Hurricane-like conditions in Florida to a rare blizzard that stretched from the Southeast US to Maine, the Superstorm of March 1993 impacted more than half the population of the Continental US.

The Carolina Weather Group is going to have a huge show looking back at this historic weather event...with guests including Meteorologists Gary Stephenson (News 14 Carolina), Rob Fowler (WCBD-Charleston SC) and Brian Peters (ABC 33/40-Birmingham AL).

Stephenson should be a familiar name to the Western North Carolina crowd as he was working as the Weekend Meteorologist at WLOS (Asheville NC) at that time while Peters was employed as a forecaster at the Birmingham NWS office...

 

 

This should spark the interest of a lot of the folks on here who were affected 22 years ago, feel free to join us on March 11th!






http://directory.libsyn.com/shows/view/id/carolinaweathergroup
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Marion_NC_WX

Marion_NC_WX

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Once again a reminder...tomorrow night at 8 pm on Youtube,check out a look back at Superstorm 1993...

 

Joining us will be current News14 Carolina (former WLOS-Asheville) Meteorologist Gary Stephenson along with (WCBD-Charleston SC) Chief Met Rob Fowler and Birmingham Meteorologist Brian Peters...

This is a must see for anyone who was on the East Coast  22 years ago...

 

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snowfever1988

snowfever1988

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22 years ago today I left Spartanburg for the mountains of North Carolina to experience the blizzard of 1993. As a long time snow chaser, I wasn't going to miss the "Storm of the Century". This is my memory of that event: Late on the afternoon of Friday, March 12, 1993, 22 years ago today, Wayne and I, and our dog Buster, left Spartanburg in my Nissan pickup, bound for our rendezvous with meteorological history, the blizzard of 1993, often referred to as the storm of the century. I’d never experienced a blizzard, and this was my opportunity. Our destination was the Hendersonville, North Carolina, a little less than 50 miles to the northwest and little less than 1500 feet higher in elevation, but that was all it would take to mean the difference between Spartanburg’s mostly cold rain, followed by several hours of back-end snow, and the full scale blizzard that was destined to wallop the mountains of North Carolina. I had been a snow chaser for years, and this was one I wasn’t going to miss. Somehow I was able to talk Wayne into going with me, even when I told him we might be stuck there for a few days. He would never make that mistake again.
A week earlier the weather pros had become highly intrigued by what their long range forecast computer models were showing them. Within a couple of more days, a full five days before the storm, they were staring at their computer screens in absolute awe. This was going to be the big one. The polar jet stream, the pacific jet stream, and the subtropical jet stream all seemed certain to phase together over the northern Gulf of Mexico and create a storm of historic intensity and proportion. It was one of the rare times that meteorologists could be bold in their forecast, with high confidence that they would be right. Not everyone believed them of course, but as a lifelong weather hobbyist, I did.
I would have preferred to stay at home and see a blizzard, but that was not to be. It was a close call, but the storm’s track was going to be just a little too far west for us outside of the mountains. So on Thursday evening we packed our winter gear, clothes, and food and drink for us and Buster, with plans to leave after work the next day. The storm formed Friday just as predicted, and by the time we left the house that evening, it was undergoing explosive intensification in the Gulf south of Mobile, Alabama. As we rode up I-26 a cold rain was already falling, and by the time we crossed over highway 11 in northern Spartanburg County there were a few mushy snowflakes mixed in and spattering on the windshield. By the time we got to the top of Saluda grade, it was all snow, and by the time we pulled into the parking lot of the Day’s Inn just off the Highway 64 exit in Hendersonville, it was beginning to accumulate. I asked the receptionist if we would be able to pick up the weather channel in our room, and when she said yes, I told her we wanted a room near a spotlight on the first floor of the back side, the side I knew would be protected from the wind. I didn’t tell the receptionist about Buster. Our room looked out on the massive parking lot of the World of Clothing, with a grouping on spruce trees off to the left off to our left. Further around to the side there was a Waffle House, and on the other side of the motel there was a speedy mart of some kind, which would become our lifelines over the coming days.
Wayne and Buster slept well that night, but I managed only a few fitful bouts of sleep. I spent the night looking out the window at the falling snow, watching the weather channel (my sister Shirley down in Birmingham, Alabama was in a blizzard with thundersnow), and listening to my NOAA weather radio for area observations. The conditions at the Asheville-Hendersonville weather station changed little throughout the night: Moderate to heavy snow, 28 degrees, northeast wind about 10 mph, a falling barometric pressure. Back in Spartanburg the observations also held steady: Rain, 33 to 34 degrees, a gusty northeast wind, and a falling barometric pressure. By dawn’s early light I looked out on a white landscape with the snow about 10 inches deep. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t a blizzard. That was about to change.
About 7:30 that Saturday morning, as Wayne and I were taking Buster for a walk (carrying him at times as it was up to his chest), the snow was picking up in intensity. We ate breakfast at the Waffle House, and by the time we came back outside the wind was whirling the snow around. By 9:30 that morning the real show was underway, and near whiteout conditions were developing. As the center of the still deepening storm moved along the coastal plain of South Carolina, our wind in Hendersonville veered to a more northerly by northwesterly direction and you could hear it howling. The temperature began to plummet. A blizzard. Around 10:30 we had our first thundersnow. Back in Spartanburg my NOAA radio confirmed that the rain had changed to a wind-blown heavy snow.
The motel was now full, as people were forced to abandon their vehicles on I-26 and make their way to shelter, bent sideways through the howling wind and blinding snow. Over the next few hours the wind howled, the snow fell furiously and drifted, and the temperature fell into in the teens. The peak wind gust at the Asheville-Hendersonville airport was 67 mph. Early in the afternoon the power went out. Not knowing how long that might last, we went to the nearby speedy mart, where there was a long line, and stocked up on even more food and drink, and flashlight batteries. As our room grew colder we pulled all the bed clothes off the other bed, combining them on one to stay warm. By late afternoon, about 20 inches of snow had fallen, but there was not an even accumulation, as the wind was blowing it off some areas and piling it into large drifts in others. And then, miraculously to us, the power came back on. By the time we ate dinner at the waffle house, the snow was winding down, but the winds continued to howl, blowing what had already fallen around and causing whiteout conditions. I slept well that night.
We awoke Sunday morning to sunshine and temperatures in the single digits. One look outside the window was enough to assure us that we would not be going anywhere for a while. The local TV stations confirmed that all roads were impassable. We took and carried Buster for a long walk that morning, snapping videos and photographs. There was a six foot snow drift in front of the entrance doors to the World of Clothing. On Sunday evening I called my coordinator at school and told her I was stuck in Hendersonville and would not be there for a few days. The next couple of days we continued to snack and eat at the Waffle House, but by Tuesday afternoon we were so tired of that routine that we started calling around looking for a restaurant that might be open. Ruby Tuesday had just reopened. It was more than half a mile down highway 64, but we walked. Crossing over I-26 on the way, we saw numerous stranded vehicles, but the snow plows were busy trying to clear the interstate. The meal at Ruby Tuesday “on Tuesday” was delicious. And we brought a real doggy bag back to Buster. The weather forecast for the next day was for more sun and warming temperature, and we decided we would attempt the trip back home if we could get out of the Day’s Inn parking lot. Wayne was more than ready!
On Wednesday morning the plows were clearing the parking lot, so we packed up. After giving the bright mid-March sun a few more hours to work its magic on the pavement, we cleared the snow off the pickup, loaded up, and headed out. The interstate was still slushy until we got past Saluda, but it was melting fast. There were still a lot of abandoned vehicles, but we did not have any problems getting back to Spartanburg. As we pulled into the yard at home, the snow was still several inches deep in shady spots, and there were a couple of pine trees that had come down during the storm, but we were glad to be home. And I for one, and I speak only for myself, was glad to have experienced the awe of the blizzard of 1993.

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