The impact of the crash on the Tampa Bay Times's offices was unclear Thursday, and leaders were discussing what to do if the space remains inaccessible.
As Hurricane Milton whipped across St. Petersburg, Fla., on Wednesday night, a fallen crane sprawled across First Avenue South.
Smoke billowed from the top of a commercial high-rise where the crane had hit it, according to video shared by a Tampa Bay Times reporter whose newsroom is in the building. A chunk of the structure was missing. Alarms sounded from inside, and the air smelled like gas.
No injuries were reported, and the building was closed at the time.
But the damage left the staff of one of Florida's largest newspapers unsure when they'd be able to return to their office as they raced to cover their second hurricane in as many weeks -- while also trying to safeguard their own homes and families. There were at least 14 storm-related deaths from Milton, hundreds more in need of rescue and millions left without power.
The damaged building was a gut punch to Ian Hodgson, a data reporter on the education team who said his house was still without electricity Thursday. Now, he said, he can't find comfort in the physical newsroom, either.
"This home away from home that may have been a source of stability while we get our individual lives back and going, this piece of what could be a source of normality, is just gone," he said. "I'm still grappling with it."
The crane had been in place for the construction of a 46-story luxury condo tower across from 490 First Avenue S., where the Times occupies three floors. The eight-story space is made up of three connected buildings -- one of which is a century old.
The impact of the crash on the Times's offices was unclear Thursday. Conan Gallaty, the Times's CEO, said it looked like the crane had damaged at least some of the company's space -- which houses the paper's newsroom and business-side operations -- but there had not yet been a formal assessment of the destruction. Times leaders are discussing what to do if the space remains inaccessible for a while, Gallaty said.
The uncertainty about the newsroom's fate adds a punctuation mark to a difficult few months at the Times. The company eliminated one-fifth of its workforce through buyouts in August, leaving 80 people in the newsroom. Hurricane Helene caused dire flooding in the Tampa area late last month, sending reporters scrambling to document the harm to their community and flooding the home of a veteran Times photojournalist. Staff got only a two-week reprieve before Milton dealt another blow to the region.
"We're emotionally tired, we're physically tired, we're working a lot, we're making up ground that has been lost," said Stephanie Hayes, a columnist. "And that is not a new phenomenon in the news industry. And so I think those of us who are here now are really laser-focused on telling the story the best we can and worrying about the other stuff later."
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Hayes rode out the storm at a Red Roof Inn in West Palm Beach, Fla., about 175 miles southeast of St. Petersburg. Up late Wednesday watching CNN's storm coverage, she saw a video of the fallen crane that one of her colleagues had posted in the Times's Slack space.
She was surprised at the deep sadness the images evoked. During more than two decades at the paper, Hayes said, she has worked on many floors of the building, which the Times owned until 2016. All the remnants of its past -- the outdated carpet and furniture, the cubicles -- hold meaning for her.
"I met my best friends in that building. I met my husband in that building," Hayes, 41, said. "It's more than a place where you work when you're a journalist; it's a place you live your life."
But luckily, she added, journalists can do their jobs from anywhere.
"We don't need the building to make the news happen," Hayes said. "We might need it a little bit for our hearts, but that's a different journey."
To some staff members, the image of a crane crashing through a century-old building symbolized a changing St. Petersburg. Where the view from the newsroom was once two empty parking lots, both spaces now house apartment complexes. Cranes used to build upscale condos now dot the skyline.
Times staff has been documenting that evolution. But on Thursday, journalists were focused on Milton, with some reporters working for more than 19 straight hours.
"Everyone's exhausted," Hayes said, "but I think we know what our job is in these situations. And our job is to get information to the community, to tell stories."
A core group of five editors had posted up in Wesley Chapel, Fla., about 40 miles northeast of St. Petersburg, ahead of the storm to try to maintain electricity, said Claire McNeill, a deputy managing editor for enterprise.
That goal proved optimistic, she said, and editors took turns charging their phones and laptops on power inverters plugged into each other's cars. McNeill had been awake since 4 a.m., coordinating meetings and checking on staff as they worked to put out an extra edition of the paper that was free online.
Amid that rush, there was little time to contemplate the potential harm to the Times newsroom. It's "a special place" for the paper's journalists, McNeill said -- with notebooks and old coffee cups littered across desks, photos adorning cubicles and whiteboards full of brainstorming.
"It just feels very strange to process the fact that once this storm clears, we might not be able to walk right back into our newsroom," McNeill said. "And we just don't know what will happen next."