It’s been a long and stressful three weeks for Motorists in the Southeast who have been waiting in long lines to fill up their tanks. The fuel supply disruptions sparked by Hurricanes Gustav and Ike earlier this month have forced many who live in places like Nashville, Charlotte and Atlanta to search for the few stations that do have gas. Some reports say lines can be up to three hours long just to get a tank of gas. We are reporting live from the QuikTrip on Sidney Marcus Boulevard in Midtown Atlanta again today.

Station Manager Jay Fuston Doubles as a Traffic Cop at this Atlanta Quiktrip

It’s one of the few stations in the area to have gas. As part of a plan to keep certain stations supplied at all times, the company strategically shut the pumps down at other locations. QuikTrip Spokesperson Mike Thornbrugh told me it made it much easier to keep a select few stations supplied instead of trying to run all their locations at once, which would cause sporadic outages everywhere. When I checked in with Thornbrugh this morning, he offered what might be a light at the end of the tunnel for drivers in the Southeast. Although cautious about calling an end to the crunch for QuikTrip, Thornbrugh says it appears the shortage might begin to ease as supplies slowly return to normal.

Thornbrugh stressed that he could only speak for QuikTrip and did not want to go as far as signaling an end to the problem, but did say things should start getting better by the end of the week. Other sources say it could be as early as five days, but AAA is cautioning drivers that it could be as late as October 13. Either way, it appears gas stations are opening slowly but surely.

Even though there might be a glimmer of hope in the week ahead, the gas shortage is definitely starting to take it’s toll on drivers who are tired of searching for gas and then having to wait in long lines just to get it. Horns occasionally blow in anger and a few arguments have broken out over who is next in line.

The possibility that tempers might flare at the pump has forced QuikTrip Manager Jay Fuston to concentrate more of his time in the store parking lot directing traffic and keeping the peace between customers who are ready to go toe to toe over the next spot in line. More than once, Fuston has refereed shouting matches and settled differences between customers who are growing impatient and angry at times.

Despite a trickle ofgood news and a possible end to the gas crunch soon, drivers are still stressing about being caught on fumes with very few places to fill up. The majority of stations around metro Atlanta are still dry and those that actually do have gas are in high demand with lines twisting down adjacent streets. Atlanta resident Wes Speaks, 28, knows the consequences of waiting until the last minute to fill up when there are long lines.

He was actually just a few cars away from the pump when his SUV sputtered and simply quit. Good samaritans from a moving company helped Speaks push his stalled SUV the remaining few feet to a full tank of gas. “I had to go downtown this morning,” Speaks says. “I couldn’t find gas there, so I decided to come back here where I knew I could get a tank. The ironic thing is that I live right across the street from this gas station.”

28 Year Old Wes Speaks Fills-up After Running Out of Gas While Waiting in Line.

Once again, gas suppliers and authorities are blaming much of the gas shortage problem on customer panic. They say drivers who are rushing to top off tanks that are half full or better and those that are hoarding by filling up gas cans are stressing scarce supplies even more and making the problem worse. They’re asking customers to only get gas when they absolutely need it and not to stockpile gas in fear of running out.

Another warning went out over the weekend to residents who are actually calling 911. Some operators in Georgia say people are dialing 911 in hopes of finding out where to find the nearest gas. Law enforcement officials say 911 operators do not know which stations have gas and that calls to the system should be for emergency situations only. Finding gas, they say, is not an emergency.

Lines are flowing from the pumps, across the parking lot and into the streets at this Atlanta Quick Trip this morning. A fortunate problem for those stations lucky enough to even have gas today. Many stations around the city have run out and those left with gas are being overrun by drivers looking for the last few precious supplies left in this part of the country. It’s not just a problem in the south’s most populous metropolitan area. Stations from Jackson, Mississippi to Charlotte, North Carolina are bagging and roping off pumps while drivers struggle to find the few that gas at all. Hurricanes Gustav and Ike dealt a double blow to the Gulf Coast drilling and refinery systems in the past few weeks and gas supplies leading into the Southeast have dropped to a mere drip.

Waiting in line to fill-up has become routine for Rick Simmons the past few days. He works for Chimney Solutions, a company that is very busy this time of year as homeowners are readying their fireplaces and furnaces for colder weather. Rick drives about 150 miles per day making his way across metro-Atlanta cleaning and servicing chimneys. He paid $75 for a tank of gas yesterday and was waiting in line this morning before heading out to five service calls.

“It’s not so bad,” Simmons says with a smile. “Most everybody is waiting their turn, being friendly and patient.” Not surprising in a part of America where being courteous to complete strangers comes naturally.

While working with our crew in the congested parking lot of this in-town gas station, I’ve watched drivers waive, smile and make room for one another. Some get out of their cars and chat while waiting to fill-up while others help direct traffic so the person in front of them can back out of impossible situations.

It’s not been completely perfect. There have been a few run-ins among the crush of cars trying to make their way on and off Sidney Marcus Boulevard. Although I can’t hear what some drivers are saying through rolled up windows, I can read lips and facial expressions– a few visual signs of frustration and an occasional horn blowing as cars maneuver to keep their places in line. I’m sure among millions of people trying to gas up today, there will be a few tempers that flare, a few arguments and possibly even a confrontation or two. Realistically, we can’t expect perfect harmony from drivers who have been pushed to their emotional and financial limits by increasing demand on limited supplies and skyrocketing prices at the pump.

If you live in an area that is experiencing a shortage right now, here are a few things to keep in mind. If you don’t need gas, then don’t get it right now. It sounds obvious, but we are told that panic to top off is making the shortage of fuel worse. Too many people are rushing to fill tanks that have ample fuel already. They say that if you are at least half-full, then don’t fill up. Return to your normal gas buying habits — only fill up when you need gas. And finally, be patient. Give yourself plenty of time to wait in a line. Until the supplies are back to normal, everyone will have to wait in the same lines to get gas just like you. Finally, be friendly to others while you wait. Keep your hand off the horn, get out of your car and strike up a conversation. Or maybe you could help someone back out of a difficult parking spot in these jammed lots. The fuel shortage is very frustrating for us all, but a little southern hospitality and kindness among neighbors will go a long way to get us through this latest petroleum-laced drama.

EXCLUSIVE VIDEO FROM THE STORM!

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I saw something outside Galveston, Texas yesterday that reminded me of those post-apocalyptic thriller movies where a handful of people are the only ones on earth to survive a worldwide disaster. It wasn’t anything on the scale of the drama that Hollywood creates, but it reminded me of how quickly we can lose touch with simple human kindness and the ability to think of others when a catastrophe strikes.

My photographer Dean Minney was shooting video of boats and yachts that had been picked up by the storm surge and placed neatly in the middle of Interstate 45 near Galveston. We were getting great shots of the bulldozers and backhoes pulling them off the freeway when I noticed something in the distance. I was confused to see three people and a dog walking in the northbound lanes out of Galveston. As the group moved closer, I approached them to find out who they were and where they were headed.

Freddie and Yvonne Collomore was pushing a baby carriage filled with whatever belongings they could salvage from their flooded Galveston home. They made sure their children and grandchildren made it out safely, but time ran out for them so they had to face the floodwaters and fury of Ike on the island. They survived, but almost everything they worked hard for was gone. Sunday was Yvonne’s birthday and she spent it walking 20 miles through heat, humidity and rain with only a few things of her 55 years of life stuffed into a baby carriage.

Right behind Yvonne and Freddie was Darren Emch pushing a wheeled garbage can with his stuff. He and his girlfriend shared a third story loft in downtown Galveston. They were planning to evacuate, but the early rush of floodwaters nearly 18 hours before landfall caught them off guard and destroyed their car before they could get off the island. Darren says his girlfriend was seven months pregnant and started to go into labor, so she was flown out by medical helicopter. The flight crew told Darren he could go too, but he would have to leave his dog Rayne behind. He says leaving Rayne alone to fend for himself was not an option.

During our interview all three told me they were making their way to meet family and friends who were waiting on the other side of a blockade on I-45. Police wouldn’t let anyone drive into Galveston to get them, so their only option was to walk about 20 miles out. The hardest part of this walk for them was not the heat, not the rain and not the blisters on their feet. The hardest part was watching police, government officials, utility companies, media, construction crews, all in roomy air conditioned trucks and SUV’s pass them by all day long. They said not one truck or car stopped to ask if they needed help, needed a ride or simply a bottle of water or food. Freddie said he was shocked at how some would just wave as they sped past the trio toward Houston.

After our interview, Dean and I decided that we would be the ones to help this group. We loaded their stuff onto our truck, let them use our phones to call their families and was prepared to take them to their family and friends waiting 10 miles up the road. But as bad luck would have it, we found ourselves in the same boat as Freddie, Yvonne, Darren and Rayne the dog. It was then that our truck chose not to start. We tried feverishly to get it going and give the group a lift, but no luck…we were stranded too. So we unloaded their stuff, gave them some water to take and sent them walking once again as other cars and trucks passed them by. They thanked us for at least trying to help them out and hoped we would pass along this simple message: the most important part of surviving a major disaster is helping each other. I want to thank Darren, the Collomores and Rayne the dog for reminding me of that.

It shook, it rumbled, it creaked and it rocked. That’s pretty much how I can describe my 11th floor hotel room as Hurricane Ike brought 115 mile per hour winds to The Hilton Clear Lake near NASA space center.

I was supposed to sleep and get up to start lives at 6 am with photographer Tom Jachman and reporter Marianne Silber. But who could sleep with the walls heaving, the floor shifting and the windows threatening to blow in? Marianne, Tom and I decided to vacate our upper floor rooms to the ballroom below at about 2:30 in the morning. The hotel staff had designated that safe harbor for guests from the storm. But what we found instead was the lobby inundated with hurricane force winds. The skylights above the front desk had shattered, glass rained down on guests and media taking refuge on the lowest floor of the hotel. The holes in the ceiling created a vacuum as winds sucked debris through the front lobby and out the front door.

As the winds howled through the lobby and threw hotel furniture around like toys, management informed us of another problem. Water from the Lake in back of the hotel was making it’s way in from all sides. The parking lot was overtaken and the stairwell we were using to get to our rooms was filling from the basement up. They advised everyone to move up to higher floors or be trapped in the lobby that now had been taken over by Ike. We retreated back to our hotel room and reported live from a sixth floor balcony as the storm howled on through the morning. Even at daylight, winds still topped 90 mph and rains swirled outside the hotel. By 10 am, the wind was still whipping trees and minor debris around, but the worst of Ike was over.

Tonight, our hotel is without power and running water and took lots of hits during the storm. Boats in the marina behind our hotel are either capsized or completely submerged. Parts of the hotels exterior litter the driveway out front and several cars have blown out windows or are floating in the middle of the lake. Highway 164 leading to the Kemah Boardwalk and Texas City is completely blocked by boats, cars, furniture, logs, telephone poles and piles of people’s belongings. Ike passed directly over us.

With the exception of the 45 minutes of complete calm in the middle of the eye, we undoubtedly took a huge hit. Authorities are just beginning to give us a picture of what it looks like out there and we will likely be reporting on this powerful storm for weeks, possibly even months to come.

The ocean has really started churning off the coast of Galveston, Texas. Waves are already topping the 17-foot tall, 10-mile long seawall that was built to protect the city and the island. For the first time in a 100 years, that wall may not save the island from near devastation. Forecasters say that Ike is brining a storm surge of 20-feet and waves up to 50 feet. One weather website described the Gulf of Mexico as a big shallow bathtub and Ike as a big disturbance causing it to overflow onto the Texas Coast.

Ike is a huge storm and it’s not the winds, but the storm surge that will likely cause most of the damage to the areas in and around Houston and Galveston. One local station already has aerial shots of Jamaica Beach, not far from our location, where houses are already being overrun by the rising surge. It’s just starting to get bad and only will get worse as the eye makes landfall near here sometime after midnight. The storm is massive and will bring certain devastation to many in this part of Texas. Waves and flood waters can easily tear apart a brick home.

Authorities have told everyone to get off Galveston Island. They say anyone who stays is risking their lives. One word used to describe the urgency of this message was one official saying “anyone in a single or two-story family home is facing certain death if they do not leave.”

We are staying at the San Luis Resort which is right on the Gulf. It’s a 16-story hotel that sits high up so the danger of the hotel being overrun by water is slim. Most of the city’s police officers and firefighters are staying here, so we know we are pretty safe. Given the fact that Galveston Island will likely be cut off from the rest of the mainland, we are planning to double back to Houston and report from there.

UPDATE 4 PM

Under instructions from the Assignment Desk in New York we have left Galveston Island and moved about 30 miles inland to Clear Lake, which is near Houston. Although we may not experience Ike’s landfall on the ocean front, we will see hurricane conditions here in Houston. Local forecasters predict up to 80 mph winds in the city and plenty of flooding for our area as well.

Fox News Producer Brooks Blanton and his crew at the Galveston Memorial during Hurricane Rita in 2005

In late September 2005, I found myself on Galveston Island waiting for Hurricane Rita to come ashore. It was three weeks after Katrina decimated Louisiana and Mississippi and the people of Texas were taking no chances.

The entire Houston metropolitan area was evacuated and looked like a ghost town as we drove through. The smaller seaside city of Galveston was also pretty much deserted and those who remained behind were bracing for a direct hit. With the exception of law enforcement, media and rescue workers there wasn’t very many people left in Southeast Texas.

As the outerbands of Rita approached, my crew and I stopped to check out a memorial that had been built along the main road that runs along the ocean. The plaque in front of the memorial told the story of a deadly hurricane that hit Galveston on September 8, 1900. Nearly 6,000 people were killed during “The Galveston Hurricane” and the bustling port city was destroyed. Some of those who died in the rising storm surge and fierce winds included 60 children and 10 nuns that were trying to ride out the storm in an orphanage. Like many of the residents of Galveston the storm surge and winds proved extremely deadly for them. The day after the hurricane hit, residents began cleaning up and rebuilding. Galveston Island was raised to a higher level and a 10 mile long, 17 foot high seawall was built to protect the city from hurricane storm surges. So far that seawall has worked and has never been overtopped.

A woman sits on the seawall in Galveston as the ocean grows more active behind her.

Fast forward three years. It’s a disturbing deja vu. I am back on the Galveston Seawall this time with reporter Marianne Silber, photographer Tom Jachman and Satellite Technician Jeff Burton doing live shots at the Memorial. As Ike changed paths once again overnight and headed for this area the mayor of Galveston ordered evacuations this morning and many residents in nearby Houston have been ordered out as Ike has his eyewall set on Galveston Bay. Traffic on I-45 was at a standstill as residents are heading inland away from what could be a very dangerous storm.

We are staying at a beachside hotel that has survived many storms and hurricanes. City officials and emergency workers are staying at the same place, so we are confident that we will be okay. We will report from Galveston as long as possible, but the safety of our crew always takes priority. Like those who own businesses and homes here, we are hoping the storm surge and flood waters from Ike will be held off by that seawall once again.

Jeff Burton, Marianne Silber, Brooks Blanton and Tom Jachman waiting for Ike at the Hurricane Memorial in Galveston, TX

People on the beach taking advantage of the day!

The trees were blowing and it was raining hard this morning at 5 am when we reported for our first live shots.  What a difference a few hours makes!  Hanna wasn’t expected to be a big storm or hang around very long and she lived up to that forecast.  By Noon, there was barely a cloud in the sky and the beach is filled with people taking advantage of the sun, blue skies and slight breeze.

While walking the beach and looking for someone to take my picture in the ocean, I bumped into Paula and Jay Morris from Raleigh, NC.  I asked them to snap a shot of me, but quickly realized they had an interesting story to tell, so I turned the camera on them.  Jay and Paula were just married in Minnesota last week — that’s where Paula grew up.  Initially, like many newlyweds, they planned to go to Cancun for a honeymoon.  But their plans were canceled because of Hurricane Gustav.  Paula and Jay decided instead to stay close to home and as far away from Gustav as they could.  So they made their way to Myrtle Beach, not realizing that a smaller storm named Hanna was attempting to wreck their Plan B Honeymoon.

Good news for the Jay, Paula and everyone else on the Carolina Coast that Hanna was a very minor storm.  Twelve hours after landfall and you wouldn’t even know she was ever here.  The beaches are busy, the pool is full and life is back to normal here on the Grand Strand of South Carolina.  What a perfect day to cover the aftermath of a Tropical Storm.