The day I worked the Halloween Mega Storm

It's amazing to think it's been 25 years since the 1991 Halloween Mega Storm.

The Halloween Mega Storm is still the snow event of record for the Twin Cities and Duluth. I've written many times about my memories of the storm, as a young meteorologist at WCCO-TV. Below is an updated post detailing my memories of the Halloween Mega Storm as a young forecaster at WCCO-TV in 1991.

Halloween 1991: My Halloween Mega Storm story

25 years ago today I was a young buck meteorologist analyzing some scary looking weather maps in the weather center at WCCO-TV in Minneapolis.

I can recall standing there with WCCO's Mike Fairbourne, Bud Kraehling, Mike Lynch, Bill Endersen, Karen Filloon and others in those days leading up to the infamous Halloween Mega Storm and all of us looking in some disbelief at the unfolding weather scenario.

Some of the computer models at the time, with quirky names like LFM (limited fine mesh) and NGM (nested grid model) were winding up a major winter storm early in the season. The storm was gathering strength in Arizona, expected to dip deep into Texas, and then spin up the Mississippi River Valley almost due north into Minnesota and Wisconsin.

In the weather biz we call these storms "Gulf storms." They suck up copious amounts of moisture from the Gulf of Mexico and ride almost due north.

The numerical output for expected precipitation with the storm was staggering. The day before Halloween, I recall us looking at a forecast of over 2 inches of liquid for the metro. The system looked borderline cold enough for most of that rain to change to snow. At a 10:1 snow-rain ratio, that would have been over 20 inches of snowfall for the Twin Cities!

We knew there was going to be a big storm, but I remember us all just kind of looking at that extreme forecast in some disbelief asking if it could actually dump that much snow?

Pre-storm forecast

The time had come to make "the call" on the coming storm. If memory serves me correctly, we put out an initial a forecast of between 8 and 12 inches of snow for the Twin Cities, with heavier totals possible for Duluth.

WCCO-TV did not have a morning newscast at that time. My news managers decided to have me come in early Friday morning November 1st and do some brief weather "cut-ins" to keep viewers updated until the daytime crew shift began. I was expected to be at the station by around 5 a.m.

Two days earlier I had worked the day shift the day before Halloween, and I was home by about 6 p.m. that night. I remember pulling into my west metro driveway and seeing all the big red oak leaves on the lawn. Was it really possible I wouldn't see the ground again this fall?

That evening I was racing back and forth across the lawn with the lawn mower, in the dark with the house lights on trying to pick up the leaves on the front lawn. Neighbors glared as if I was the scariest thing they had seen all week. Who was this crazy guy mowing his lawn in the dark the night before Halloween?

When you're the neighborhood weatherman they start asking questions if you're doing something unusual in your yard. Does this guy know something I don't?

Halloween 1991

On Halloween a misty rain quickly changes to heavy wet snow around midday. The Minnesota Climatology Working Group describes the events unfolding on Halloween 1991.

As Halloween dawned back in 1991, some wintry weather was anticipated but no one was expecting a blizzard. The National Weather Service issued a Winter Storm Watch at 4:00 am on the 31st with a potential of a foot of snow.

The first inkling that the forecast under projected snowfall totals came when precipitation started falling as snow at about 11:30 am in the Twin Cities, much earlier than anticipated. With the realization that the precipitation would be snow, not rain, a Winter Storm Warning was issued during the day by the National Weather Service in the Twin Cities and forecasters realized there was a potential for a lot of snow.

As the afternoon faded into evening a surreal scene unfolded with kids attempting to trick or treat wearing coats and boots and pumpkins becoming covered with a snowy blanket. 8.2 inches of snow fell by midnight on the 31st at the Twin Cities International Airport, the most for the entire month of October on record for the Twin Cities.

On Halloween night trick or treaters trudge through the deepening snow. I hand out candy then head for bed. The alarm is set for 3:30 am.

3:30 am Nov. 1, 1991

I wake up in Minnetonka to the sound of wind, and quiet streets. One look out the front window and I am stunned. The snow is coming down so fast I can barely see the street out front. There is already what looks like 12 to 15 inches of snow on the ground, and my lawn is covered in deep snow.

The driveway and street is deep and unplowed, and I'm about to jump into my little red Honda Accord hatchback and try to get from Minnetonka to downtown Minneapolis by 5 a.m. No traffic sounds, and not a snowplow to be seen.

I jump into my Honda and attempt to back out of the garage into the already snow choked driveway. The car just stops about 15 feet outside the garage. I still have another 30 feet of driveway, slightly uphill to navigate before even getting to the street.

I pull straight back along my tire tracks into the garage in front of me. I shift the (manual) car into reverse, and carefully make another run backwards along my tire tracks. Another 15 feet.

I do it again, careful to stay in my tracks. I know if I skid to one side I'm stuck, and I'm not getting into the station this morning. My tracks now go almost all the way to the street and I decide to go for it.

As I make the backwards run out of the garage into my tire tracks, I realize that the only way I'm going to go forward on the street is in one deft move where I let the snow on the street stop me, shift quickly into 1st gear and start forward.

Thankfully there is a slight downhill once I'm on the street, and I lurch forward toward the stop sign. Like every other traffic signal device that morning I will ignore it, knowing if I stop anywhere I'm stuck right there.

It's about a mile to Interstate 394 and I make the ramp. I'm doing about 25 to 30 mph in the deep snow. (My little front wheel drive Honda was great in snow) I throw up a snowy rooster tail as I plow through deep snow heading onto the freeway.

I'm the only car on the freeway, making an eerie lonely run down I-394 through St. Louis Park at 4:15 a.m. heading for downtown Minneapolis. No other cars, no tire tracks on the freeway, and not a snow plow in sight.

As I come off the ramp on 12th Street into downtown Minneapolis the story is the same. Snow choked streets, no traffic and optional traffic lights. After about six blocks I veer into the parking lot behind "The Times" (now Target HQ) near 11th and the Nicollet Mall, and bury my car sideways in a snow drift in the middle of the parking lot.

I gather my gear and trudge the last block through a more than a foot of snow, prying open the now snow-chocked door at WCCO-TV on 11th Street and the Nicollet Mall.

Again, the Minnesota Climatology Working Group.

The storm intensified and moved to southeast Iowa by the morning of Friday, November 1. The snow continued to pile up. There were a flurry of cancellations. 900 schools and businesses closed in Minnesota including 3M, Dayton's, Honeywell and the Carlson Companies.

Meanwhile in southern Minnesota and in Iowa, where the precipitation remained as rain, one to three inches of ice formed on surfaces. This was the costliest ice storm in Iowa's history through 1991.

Snow removal became difficult as the snow had started falling on warm pavement, which melted at first and then froze into icy ruts that proved to be very difficult to remove. 18.5 inches fell on November 1 at the Twin Cities International Airport, snow blowers in the metro area quickly sold out.

'Hey Huttner, we're going to turn this into the Weather Channel'

As I stomp into the WCCO Weather Center, Bill Endersen is the only other meteorologist in the house if memory serves me right. He is handling AM radio duties for WCCO Radio.

I am scheduled to do some weather hits for 'CCO TV. There are barely enough crew members to get us on the air.

The radar is choked with blue, green and yellow. The snow is coming down at the rate of 1 to 2 inches-plus per hour, and there's no let up in sight.

We do a couple of weather hits. At around 7 a.m., the News Director John Lansing stomps into the studio with his parka and Sorrel boots still caked with snow. The look on his face is priceless.

"Paul, I want you to turn this into the Weather Channel. I want you to go on the air, and stay on the air for as long as you can."

My response is one word.

"Cool!"

There are no other anchors, no other TV meteorologists, and no reporters in the station, and we're about to go on the air with live continuous weather coverage during the biggest snowstorm in Twin Cities history.

We hit the air again, staying on live for as much as 30 minutes in one stretch. John is now producing the coverage in the control room and we are switching between any sources we can find. Radar, satellite, forecast maps, live cams, snow totals so far.

John begins to arrange phone interviews with various police officials and some of our reporters and anchor staff who are still stuck at home. On the phone, Don Shelby, Collen Needles, Cindy Hilger among others. Still, no other anchors can make the trip into WCCO-TV to anchor the coverage.

I'm on my own. The fledging meteorologist. The only one able to make it into downtown Minneapolis.

Soon WCCO-TV reporter Trish Van Pilsum (now an investigative reporter at FOX9) makes it into the station. I'm in the studio; she's on the WCCO-TV roof. There is little of no traffic in downtown Minneapolis at the height of rush hour on a Thursday morning. Buses are stuck on the streets. A lone cross country skier is making good time down the empty Nicollet Mall.

For about five hours that morning almost nobody can make it into WCCO-TV, and nobody is moving anywhere in the metro and in most of Minnesota. Somewhat stunned, I keep updating the latest official Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport snowfall totals on the air: 18 inches, 19.5 inches, 20 inches... 23 inches!

I clearly recall the pivotal moment in our live coverage that morning. I am on the air live with the Minnesota State Patrol captain, and he says it.

"We are recommending absolutely no travel in the metro and surrounding areas today. It's just too dangerous. Stay home!"

You could almost hear the collective gasp and cheer from homes across the metro. It's the first time most of us have ever heard anyone tell all Minnesotans to stay home. Talk about a snow day.

At some point in the coverage, I utter the phrase "Halloween Mega Storm" to describe the snowy blitz. I can't recall if I just made it up or repeated it, but it stuck.

We are on the air live for nearly five hours straight, with just a few short breaks. Finally a couple of news anchors and reporters manage to make it into the station for the noon newscast. We continue to do extended live coverage through the day, right into the evening newscasts.

I shoot some stories outside that afternoon and finally I'm able to head home around 7 p.m. I dig my car out, and somehow manage to navigate the partially plowed streets home. I'm scheduled in again the next morning for more coverage.

A '40-share'

The next day the daily ratings come into the newsroom. Because of John Lansing's decision to go into continuous live coverage, WCCO-TV was an overwhelming No. 1 in the market that day. Competing stations front line meteorologists are stuck at home that morning during the height of the storm. WCCO-TV pulls a 40-plus share for much of the coverage that morning, meaning more than 40 percent of all Twin Cities households had us dialed in that day.

My news director  joked the next day,

"Hey Huttner, you're the only person in the history of WCCO-TV with their own "40-share."

The decision to take continuous live weather coverage that day was the reason we did huge number and won the day. The Halloween Mega Storm set new highs for news viewership in Minnesota that fateful day, and made lifelong memories for Minnesotans. It also launched a career for this Minnesota meteorologist.

Talking to Minnesotans I find the Halloween Mega Storm is one of those events that everyone remembers where they were and has a story.

What are your memories of that "weather crazy" day 20 years ago?

Star Tribune, via Minnesota Climatology Working Group

Where were you that day? Please share your snowy memories in comments.