It didn’t seem real.
Homes blown away, washed away in Grande Lagoon where people drowned in their well-manicured yards and in their beautiful waterside homes. A chunk of the Escambia Bay Bridge was ripped away, leaving a large 18-wheeler cut in half, its front side in the murky, storm-stirred water, the other dangling from the sawed-off bridge. The driver would die in the water after falling into the bay with the truck’s cab on the raging night on which tragedy and destruction roared through Escambia and Santa Rosa counties.
It was the night of Hurricane Ivan, Sept. 16, 2004, and the storm took lives, scarred lives and challenged all in the community, no matter neighborhood or zip code.
Sunlight brings destruction
There were boats scattered through downtown Pensacola streets, homes everywhere battered, roofs torn asunder in the dead of night as the winds outside roared and screamed with terror, with eight people in the area dying that early Thursday morning when Hurricane Ivan made landfall at 2 a.m. as a Category 3 storm with 120 mph winds near Gulf Shores, Alabama, just across the Florida-Alabama border. More would die in the days to come, some because of accidents that happened during the oft-dangerous cleanup. Ivan lumbered, moving slowly churning hurricane-force winds for six hours through Escambia and Santa Rosa counties as it moved north northeasterly.
A lot of folks referred to the storm as “Ivan the Terrible,” and now, 20 years later, memories of Hurricane Ivan and its impact across Pensacola and surrounding communities, are still vivid for many.
How could they not be vivid, and lingering? Hurricane Ivan devastated Pensacola and its neighboring communities − Perdido Key and the Innerarity Point area, Pensacola Beach, Gulf Breeze, Milton, Navy Point. Really, everyone suffered, every neighborhood from Escambia to Santa Rosa County suffered some damage, some indignity.
And we remember the long, arduous aftermath. A sea of government-issued blue tarps from Escambia’s most western edge to Santa Rosa’s eastern side. That’s if you had a home at all. Power out nearly everywhere, with some going weeks without electricity. Fights with insurance adjustors about whether the damage was wind or water. Gas lines down in many areas. Thousands without running water. Pets missing. Photo albums lodged in trees, roofs on top of other roofs. Church bells crashing through church roofs. Fancy dresses dangling like scarecrows off limbs. It looked like, in some areas, one of those post-apocalyptic zombie films.
75,000 homes destroyed or damaged in Escambia, Santa Rosa counties
Pensacola had seen many storms before. But Ivan was different.
“Growing up in Pensacola, we all had experiences with hurricanes before,” said Escambia County Administrator Wes Moreno. “We had Erin and Opal, which were pretty significant, and others before that. We’ve had storms where we lost power and took some damage, but you just don’t envision the kind of storm Ivan was. And that it happened overnight and was so slow moving, that just made it more catastrophic.”
Moreno was working for Escambia County as a “mid-level” engineer at the time and toured many affected areas in the aftermath.
“You had folks in Grande Lagoon who drowned in attics,” he said. “You can’t envision water coming to you at that level. Even today, it’s shocking.”
In the end, more than 75,000 homes in the two-county area were destroyed or damaged by Hurricane Ivan.
One of those was the Navy Point home of 84-year-old Walter F. Jones.
“He died the day before Ivan hit,” said his daughter, Susan Ladd of Milton. “It was better that way. We were going to move him to Hospice the next day, but he died. It was good he didn’t have to see what happened to his home. And the insurance didn’t pay, so it would have been too much for him.”
As for Ladd’s Milton home − “We were lucky,” she said. “But we lost power for six to eight weeks. My husband had cancer and was disabled. We were stuck using a generator and had to go to Crestview for gas. We were completely cut-off from the I-10 bridge. It was just so stressful.”
And, of course, there was the loss of their father. But with areas flooded, homes and lives destroyed, it would be eight weeks before Ladd could bury her father.
“Ivan was the worst the Gulf Coast has had in a long time,” Ladd said. “There was Hurricane Camille in Pass Christian (Mississippi, 1969) but this was the worst in Pensacola.”
Kenny Stearmer rode out the storm at his home at Emerald Shores on Gulf Beach Highway.
“Just about everyone in our subdivision left,” Stearmer wrote about his experience. “Heard the tornado roar through and the roof of our house was trying to lift off the whole night. Next morning, our neighborhood wasn’t too bad, but I tried to drive out into Gulf Beach Highway and it looked like a bomb went off. Houses were gone around the old Rusty’s fish camp and there were boats all over the place from the storage place. Even saw an ATV in a tree.”
There were surreal sights for sure. In the days and weeks that would follow, we would see people standing in long lines for food, water, ice, diapers and other needs. Help came from the Army National Guard, the Red Cross, the Salvation Army and numerous church and relief organizations who distributed items of every kind, from baby formula to donated clothes. FEMA and MREs became familiar to everyone. Backyard grill masters became neighborhood grill masters, serving up food for fellow neighbors without power. Restaurants here and there served food to locals in need.
Power out for weeks
Power was out for weeks for thousands. And in the dark days after Ivan, when people spent large portions of the day clearing debris − chainsaws roaring over the sounds of generators − if a power truck appeared in your neighborhood, you and neighbors stood by and cheered the line men and women of Gulf Power and neighboring power companies.
“I have to give kudos to our line workers who are on the front line every day, and especially during storms,” said J.T. Young, vice president and general manager of Florida Power & Light Northwest Florida. “We were blessed to get a lot of assistance (from other power companies), but even with that it took quite a while to get everyone’s power on. There was that much damage.”
His own home in Northwest Pensacola had portions of the roof blown off and water swept into the house. Like many if not most living in Escambia and Santa Rosa counties, Young − then with Gulf Power − had work and home responsibilities that were immense. NextEra Energy acquired Gulf Power in 2019 and merged it into FPL in 2021.
“I remember our then-13-year-old son Joseph, and he was sitting on the couch, and we kept hearing all the noises and everything going on outside, and he said ‘Dad, are we going to be all right?’ It was a pretty challenging time, but there were so many others that had it much worse than we did.”
Many were worried they could die as Ivan sloshed slowly, spinning tornados from its core through both counties.
Kimberly Blair, a Gulf Breeze resident and Pensacola News Journal reporter at the time, was one of those who truly feared for her life, and with good cause. Blair, now a Florida Power & Light senior marketing and communication strategist, was forced to flee to the attic of their home along with her husband Steve, son Greg and his girlfriend.
She was able to leave a desperate voice mail at the News Journal that ended with “The water is still rising” before the line went dead.
At 1 a.m. the power had gone off at the home and not long afterward, the family began hearing strange noises. Steve Blair went outside to check, and soon came into the house saying “We’re in trouble.”
Writing about the traumatic experience in 2014 on the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Ivan, Blair recounted “all hell broke loose. Water started coming into the house from every direction. It came through walls, doors and percolated up from the floor.”
The family tried to escape in a truck but couldn’t because of a small river of water flowing through the road and a downed tree blocking their exit. Gas fumes were already in the house, and the family escaped into the attic seeking some type of shelter. There, they would sit in fear for hours as sounds exploded around them while the storm toppled trees and sent debris crashing into the roof.
Even today, 20 years later, Blair said the storm left her with some weather trauma.
“Every time another storm came into the Gulf, I would just kind of get PTSD,” she said. “It was just so terrifying. We had water with sewer and gasoline and oil, you just name it, it was all in this toxic collection of crap and the fumes just about killed us. There was so much stuff in the water in our home, plus jellyfish, fish and snakes. Structurally the home was not completely destroyed, but we lost pretty much everything we owned inside.”
Today, the area is more protected, with power and utility upgrades that have strengthened our ability to withstand a powerful storm.
“I say this all the time, but no electric system or grid is hurricane proof,” Young said. “But Florida Power & Light has made significant investments in our infrastructure, and we’ve seen the improved reliability across our region. We’re better prepared for the next storm than we were 20 years ago.”
Moreno said the same.
“We learned so many things from Ivan,” he said, noting there is more communication and preparation during the hurricane off season between various agencies, from EMS and fire departments to public works. They solidify evacuation routes and the timing of when such decisions need to be made. “We’ve learned to take things much more seriously. We were taking things seriously for Ivan too, but we just weren’t as prepared for what happened as we would be today. It was catastrophic.”
