In the news business, you could be headed out the door on the way to church one moment and in the next, reverse course and drive straight to the office knowing that about 15 hours of work await you.

That's what happened Sunday morning when our house started shaking and our kids and cats started getting nervous and we knew we had a huge story on our hands.

Two phone calls into getting things moving, the power gave out and phone lines went dead. Cell phone connections were spotty and as I made my way into work at 8 a.m. it started to pour. I turned onto Kalaniana'ole Highway and saw runners getting drenched during their 30K race and told myself it couldn't be that bad if the race was still on.

Trying to negotiate the flooding on H-1, I tried to make cell phone contact, with no luck. By the time I pulled into our parking lot, my colleagues were rolling in. Copy editor Elizabeth House, online staffer Chris Kanemura, deputy city editor Dave Dondoneau and reporter Rick Daysog needed no phone calls asking them to report to work. When a big story breaks, you're expected to either show up or call in to find out if you're needed.

Kanemura, an O'ahu Civil Defense volunteer, reported that it was a 6.6-magnitude quake centered on the east side of the Big Island. I could only imagine how bad things were there, judging by the strong jolts we felt 157 miles away in Honolulu. But by the time I got into the newsroom, we learned from Big Island reporter Kevin Dayton that there had been no injuries or deaths.

As someone who has been through many Southern California quakes, I also knew that initial reports near epicenters are often wrong. And as days pass, casualties can rise. We had to plan for the worst and hope for the best. We dispatched reporter Derrick DePledge and photographer Gregory Yamamoto on a chartered plane while commercial aircraft sat idle.

Meanwhile, reporters and editors arrived in a humid, darkened newsroom waiting for assignments. We had about two hours of emergency power to post stories online before computers and phones went dead. Laptops were fired up and when they lost power, they were recharged on car batteries. Several radios scattered throughout the newsroom were tuned to KSSK.

Sports writer Ann Miller headed to Waikiki to assess the scene, and her colleague Wes Nakama drove to Honolulu International Airport to talk to tourists waiting in long lines. News reporters Mike Gordon, Mike Leidemann and Eloise Aguiar were out looking for firsthand accounts from those who felt the quake. Dan Nakaso, a fast and versatile writer, was preparing to take dictation and write for The Advertiser's Web site.

Political editor Jerry Burris was on his way to Kona for the debate between Linda Lingle and Randy Iwase when the flight (and debate) were canceled. But he still managed to get the governor on the phone for a detailed look at her day. Meanwhile, education writer Beverly Creamer (Jerry's wife) was stuck in San Francisco on the way back to Hawai'i. She interviewed travelers who were stuck along with her and passed along the information.

Island Life reporter Catherine Toth was on vacation on Kaua'i but posted a breaking news story on our Web site within an hour of the earthquake. She would have done so sooner, but had trouble connecting with an editor.

The online headline read "Major earthquake rocks Islands." It was the first of 117 news items posted that day, mostly to the rest of the world that had power. Our site generated 930,289 page views on Sunday and more than 1 million page views on Monday, a record amount for www.honoluluadvertiser.com. Because most people in Hawai'i did not have electricity, only 21 percent of our overall hits were local. About 35 percent came from the Pacific time zone and about 18 percent came from the Eastern time zone. On Monday, the breakdown returned to normal with about 43 percent from Hawai'i and 23 percent from the Pacific.

As the day wore on and reporters and photographers continued to gather information, we set up small gas-powered generators on the loading dock next to a hallway where online editors and reporters posted stories throughout the day, alternating between Clearwire and Sprint connections.

Scott Morifuji of our online department had just finished up a night shift and had been asleep 20 minutes when the quake hit. He got up and marched back into work, keeping our network connected. Assistant Managing Editor Sandee Oshiro posted stories from about 8 a.m. to 11:30 p.m. while barely looking up from her computer. Online editor Andreas Arvman maintained the site all morning and throughout the evening.

Meanwhile, Marsha McFadden, another assistant managing editor, was the point person on coverage throughout the day. She started the morning taking dictation until other editors arrived and directed our 10 pages of print coverage for the next day. She handed me her Treo that was tuned to Fox News Channel and we got to see Hawai'i make the national news.

Fox News Channel drew on our headlines and photos for early information as national news programs spent hours reporting on the situation in Hawai'i. We laughed when the broadcasters said law enforcement officials were searching the "remote villages" of Kilauea for damage.

Hours passed. We waited anxiously with Publisher Mike Fisch for the 125-kilowatt diesel-powered generator that was going to power up our computers and servers just as the sun was going down. It was hooked up just in time, and reporters and editors continued to work with emergency power under camping lanterns that bathed the newsroom in an eerie glow.

But now we were starting to worry about electricity returning to Kapolei, where our massive printing press is located. There is no backup generator for the press and without electricity, we would have no printed paper the next morning. Vice President/Production Bill Bogert called at about 7 p.m. to announce that power was restored. Three hours later, downtown electricity was back to normal just as the late newscasts were starting. Reporter Mary Vorsino got the unenviable assignment of working overnight to post updates about areas where power was restored.

On the way home around 11 p.m. my neighborhood was pitch black. There was a flashlight at the front door and a family asleep. I thought about all the people who had worked all day and night, some of whom brought their kids into the newsroom or left families behind. In a few more hours, what they produced — a newspaper — would be in their driveways and all those people who worked Sunday would be headed back to the office again.