I wanted to dedicate a section of my website entirely to my experience covering Hurricane Michael for multiple reasons. I’ve been pulled from sports to cover severe weather before. It has even earned me the nickname Carly “Storm” around the newsroom and amongst family and friends. However, this storm was drastically different than others I’ve covered. This catastrophic event was a career-defining experience. I still find myself trying to find the 'right’ words to describe it.

On October 10, 2018, my co-workers and I huddled in the center of the newsroom while the station flooded and roof fell around us. We slept on lock-down in a church with strangers that night. I will never forget it - laying on a wet air mattress that my coworker had pulled out from underneath the fallen ceiling tiles at the station, cold with no blanket, listening to water drip from the roof, looking out at a broken skyline, watching looters on the streets, yet staring at the prettiest, starry night sky I’ve ever seen. How ironic. I won’t sugar coat it - the aftermath of Hurricane Michael was, and still is, really bad. Weeks without power and water. Limited resources. Armed looters. I saw a lot. I learned a lot. About myself - not only as a journalist, but as a person. And about others. Good and bad.

A lot of people have asked me why I didn’t evacuate. The answer was and is easy. As journalists, this is what we do. We stay. We keep the public informed. I know our coverage saved lives as we went wall-to-wall, warning people of the strength of the hurricane and convincing them to evacuate. I know our coverage in the aftermath continued saving lives as we informed victims of where they could find relief and shared people’s stories with the rest of the country. I have never done such meaningful and purposeful work in my life.

Here is a collection of some of my experiences - both leading into the storm and afterwards:

We began live wall-to-wall coverage of Hurricane Michael on October 9th, 2018. I was pulled from sports and reporting in the first shift, from 4pm to 5am on October 10th. Here is a sizzle reel with clips from some of my live shots leading into the storm, reporting from Mexico Beach, Port St. Joe, Cape San Blas, and Panama City: 

After Hurricane Michael passed through, there was a lot unknown. I only lived 5 minutes driving from the TV station, but I couldn’t get back to my home after the storm because there were so many trees, power lines, debris, and more on the roadways. Trust me, I tried. There was no safe route to drive or walk and nightfall was creeping upon us. I had already seen armed looters on Harrison Avenue, the main street through town, in broad daylight. That’s why the neighboring church let us spend the night on lockdown with them. It was the safest option we had and everyone was in survival mode. We all grabbed whatever we could, making multiple trips from the TV station to the church. I remember thinking, '“What do I absolutely need?” I grabbed my bag with a change of clothes and helped my coworkers throw snacks into trash bags. We cleared the refrigerator out, bringing over the last of the sandwich ingredients. I made a wrap, sitting on a wet floor in wet clothes, not knowing when I would get food like that again. At the time, I didn’t know just how scarce resources would get. Once we were settled into the church and the sky got dark, the countdown until daylight began. The sunrise on October 11th was one I will never forget. I had never been so happy to see the sun. I finally felt safe, but I knew the 4pm sunset would come too quickly. We were all given the day off. Everyone. A day off in news. That never happens. But our bosses new that we needed to handle our personal lives. We needed to see if we still had homes and if family and friends were alive and well.

The next day, we got to work. We were in the thick of it all, providing full coverage that included critical, life-saving information for victims. We all still get “thank you’s” for the work that we did, which is a heartfelt reminder that what we do, as journalists, matters. Some of the work I did included anchoring hour-long, commercial-free live shows in the field. I was alongside anchors from our sister stations in Little Rock and Nashville. We saw mass devastation and felt the deepest depths of victims’ heartbreak - but we also saw great generosity and compassion, along with unbelievable perspective on the power of hope. Here is a montage from just a few of those live shows:

President Donald Trump toured the City of Lynn Haven five days after Hurricane Michael hit. He took two questions from national media outlets - one about the devastation he saw and another about the character of the community. He began to walk away, but I knew that I had to get my question in. It was one that I know the community he’d previously been asked about wanted answered. I asked, “How are you prioritizing providing relief for victims in Northwest Florida?” Having been boots on the ground, covering the aftermath, speaking with countless victims, I knew that many affected by the storm were worried they’d be forgotten once national coverage died down.

Gulf County Fire Coordinator Brad Price died helping family members remove debris from their yard following Hurricane Michael when a tree fell on his tractor. Hundreds gathered in Wewahitchka to honor his memory.

Sylvester Turner, the Mayor of Houston, sent a semi truck full of supplies to Panama City following Hurricane Michael. The supplies were distributed to victims at the Panama City Toyota.