SULPHUR, Okla. (AP) — When Oklahoma and national officials held a press conference Monday to discuss the scale of the devastation after tornadoes two days earlierKathy John did what she always does: she showed up to report on the issue for the city’s weekly newspaper, the Sulfur Times-Democrat.
But before she could write her story, John had to help his team rescue the newsroom’s computers, which were at the center of the path of destruction on April 28.
“Let’s get some paper. It may take a day, but we will publish a newspaper,” said John in front of the brick building built in 1926 that houses the newsroom.
Sulfur suffered Oklahoma worst destruction during an outbreak of severe weather when a tornado ripped through the downtown area of a community of about 5,000 residents south of Oklahoma City. Four people were killed across the state, including a woman who was in a bar near the newspaper office.
Kathy John’s husband, James John, joined the team in 1968 after his father had managed it for 27 years. Together, the two have covered Sulphur, the county seat, for more than 50 years.
In the 83 years the family has owned the newspaper, it has never lost a print, Kathy John said. It’s come close before.
There was a time, about 20 years ago, when an overnight freeze followed torrential rain that caused trees and power lines to snap in two. Some residents were left without power for weeks, but running on a generator, the newsroom Sulfur Times Democrat continued to shake.
But this week tested the newspaper’s three-person team.
“I’ve been trying to write a headline all day, but I can’t put into words what happened,” said James John, looking at the newspaper’s layout on a computer at the kitchen table.
Their downtown newsroom is without power, so the Oklahoma Press Association delivered a Wi-Fi hotspot and other equipment to help the team distribute the paper from John’s home a few blocks away, where they rode out the storm. and, fortunately, they suffered no damage.
The newsroom was built in 1926, the same year the newspaper began printing, and they are probably the original tenants, although no one can say for sure. The building was once a fallout shelter and may be one of the few buildings that will survive. But they fear the city could condemn the structure and destroy it along with the rest of downtown, James John said.
Several buildings completely collapsed. Others show the strange precision of tornado winds, like a store missing a front wall while the clothes inside remain neatly folded or hanging on a hanger.
Not far from the newsroom, a sports grill was flattened under the roof. One resident, Sheila Hilliard Goodman, died there Saturday night while sheltering from the tornado.
Debris of brick, wood and metal has been pushed to the curb and maintenance trucks line most of the city’s modest five blocks, where relief workers tend to downed power lines or sweep debris from the few remaining rooftops. . Business owners and their families salvage what they can by loading trucks and trailers.
Some of the buildings in downtown Sulfur predate statehood in 1907 and are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The town was built on tourism for the Chickasaw National Recreation Area, a nearly 10,000-acre (4,046.86 hectare) park across the street with natural springs that travelers believed had medicinal qualities.
Visitors often compare the smell of the sulfurous spring water to rotten eggs. But on Monday, the strong smell of leather hung in the air, wafting down the block through the broken windows of Billy Cook Harness & Saddle.
The Sulfur is packed with reporters from across the state and country, so the newspaper’s staff decided they could better serve their community by writing about its strength and resilience.
“This week we’re trying to focus on all the people here helping and the helpers and how blessed we are to have only had one fatality,” said Kathy John. “I just think it’s the most integral thing to do.”
On Tuesday, the Johns decided to publish the paper on Thursday, a day later than usual. The newspaper is printed in a nearby town that was not hit by the tornado.
It had been a difficult few days and their heads were still spinning as they tried to find out the location of the next FEMA press conference or whether the city would let them return to the building to retrieve their files.
As the recovery continued around him, James John was still working on writing that headline.
“It was a treasure,” he said of the old town, thinking maybe that was the angle. “Something along those lines, you know: ‘Lost Treasure’.”
