Editor’s note: Hannah Lang, a Journalism and Political Science Major at UNC-Chapel Hill, is also a Senior Writer at The Daily Tar Heel and Publicist, Company Carolina. WRAL TechWire asked Ms. Lang to write about her experiences during Hurricane Florence from the perspective of a millennial, someone who has grown up with the Internet and smartphones. Her experiences point out the growing importance of technology in keeping us all connected during disasters, not just our day-to-day lives. She submitted the story on Friday but power failures  and spotty Internet access led to delays in publishing the post until today. We’ve added updates as she continued to watch Florence on Saturday and Sunday. On Monday, she … well, read on.
CHAPEL HILL – As I write this, Hurricane Florence is touching down on the North Carolina coast. I know this because I’m watching it happen, thanks to a webcam on Frying Pan Tower, 34 miles off of Cape Fear, and its live feed being broadcast on the WRAL website. I can watch the wind rip the tower’s American flag to pieces and the ocean churn in real time on my laptop screen.

It’s strange to think that natural disasters like Hurricane Florence can bring the power and ubiquity of digital technology into full focus:

  • Webcams broadcasts watch the coastal effects of the storms.
  • Smartphone apps track the weather radar.
  • Online local news websites– some of which, like the News & Observer, have waived their usual subscription fees– post immediate and almost hourly updates.
  • Social media on all platforms buzzes with talk of the events to come over the next three days.

As a college student and a millennial, my demographic has a reputation for being attached to our smartphones and laptops, and a hurricane is no exception. My friends and I heard about class cancellations by text or email sitting in a circle on our respective devices in the library Tuesday night. We immediately checked online for hurricane preparation tips, and posted on our social media accounts about our evacuation plans.

In a way, a hurricane is the kind of thing social media was made for: non-controversial, experienced en masse, and easily shareable. I’ve seen family post photos of their flooding backyards on Facebook. I’ve read friends’ posts on Instagram asking for advice on how to persuade their parents to heed a mandatory evacuation warning. I can search the word “florence” on Twitter and see dozens of updates on the storm’s path and its preliminary effects on the NC coast.

Now, with all classes and campus activities canceled, my smartphone and laptop have become my news source, method of communication, and means of entertainment for a long weekend of watching and waiting.

Thursday morning, the day before the storm is set to hit central NC: I sit on my computer, my smartphone lying next to me, checking continuously for storm updates and browsing Netflix to cure my boredom. The wind and rain haven’t hit, but the sky is gray and the air outside feels ominous. I find myself staring at the screen, for hours, watching the storm inch its way up to the coast.

I text my dad and ask if he’s picked up water and propane. I check my Twitter for updates on the path of the storm.

Some Facebook attempts at humor

I scroll through Facebook endlessly with my laptop balanced on my chest, clicking on the “going” button of dozens of fake comedic hurricane-related events: “Point at Hurricane Florence and Sternly Tell it to Go Away,” “Take Hurricane Florence and PUSH it somewhere ELSE!”, even “Stand on the coastline and yodel Hurricane Florence away.” I stare out the window at the threatening sky, the wind just beginning to rifle the trees. I unlock my iPhone again.

That night, I wake up to the wind howling outside my window. I throw my arms to the ground in a daze and fumble for my computer charger, trying to plug in my laptop lest we lose power later (gratefully, we didn’t).

Those Florence tweets

In the morning, I make coffee and type “florence” into the search bar on Twitter again. I watch what the storm had destroyed overnight: video of flooded basements, wind-whipped trees, gas station awnings crashing onto the street. I think of the North Carolinians who live in those areas.

I scroll up and reload the page, watching the string of information continuously lengthen. I think of how technology can so easily track this storm, record its effects, and share it instantly online– everything short of actually stopping the hurricane. How still, at the end of the day, all I can do is wait it out.

I send another text to my dad and refresh my Twitter feed again, eventually opening my smartphone to check Instagram and Facebook as well. Although Florence is battering the coast, all my feeds indicates that all my family and friends are safe. I put my phone down and look out the window again at the stormy sky.

Time for devices to die

Right now, I need my smartphone and laptop to stay updated and keep in touch with my friends and family. But I find myself thinking that, once the storm passes, I won’t mind letting my devices die for a little while.

It’s apparent by Saturday that Chapel Hill won’t be hit by the worst of the storm. Now, instead of warnings and weather predictions, Twitter presents a never-ending list of the damage in worse-affected areas: splintered trees, homes half underwater, streets that have become rivers. The destruction reaches as far west as Charlotte. More stories are published detailing the storm’s impact, and among the videos of storm surges and fallen buildings emerge links to charities and other ways to aid victims.

On Sunday, it rains more. Flooding remains an issue in other parts of the state and becomes a threat to parts of Chapel Hill as well. The rain, which comes in downpours on-and-off, starts to feel oppressive. Monday classes are canceled.

As the grey skies hover for the fourth straight day, the momentousness of what has happened to my state sinks in. I read the morning paper (in print): the flooding in New Bern has made the front page of The New York Times.

Overwhelmed, I spend the day away from my devices.