Y2K seems like a joke now, but in 1999 people were really freaking out

In December 1999, the world prepared for the impending global meltdown known as Y2K. It all stemmed from a seemingly small software glitch: Many older computer programs had coded dates using only two numbers for the year. At midnight on Dec. 31, a misinterpretation of “00” in the year 2000 might cause widespread errors leading to mass panic.

The Clinton administration said that preparing the U.S. for Y2K was probably “the single largest technology management challenge in history.” The bug threatened a cascade of potential disruptions — blackouts, medical equipment failures, banks shutting down, travel screeching to a halt — if the systems and software that helped keep society functioning no longer knew what year it was.

These fears gave rise to another anxiety-inducing acronym: TEOTWAWKI — “the end of the world as we know it.” Thankfully, the so-called “year 2000 problem” didn’t live up to the hype.

NPR covered Y2K preparations for several years leading up to the new millennium. Here’s a snapshot of how people coped, as told to NPR Network reporters.

Infrastructure systems braced for the worst

Computer specialist and grassroots organizer Paloma O’Riley compared the scale and urgency of Y2K prep to telling somebody to change out a rivet on the Golden Gate Bridge. Changing out just one rivet is simple, but “if you suddenly tell this person he now has to change out all the rivets on the bridge and he has only 24 hours to do it in — that’s a problem,” O’Riley told reporter Jason Beaubien in 1998.

So, why wasn’t U.S. infrastructure ready in the first place? Stephanie Moore, then a senior analyst with Giga Information Group, told NPR it stemmed from a data-efficiency measure in the expensive early days of computers: formatting years using two digits instead of four, with most computers interpreting “00” as the year 1900.

“Now, when we roll over to the year 2000, computers — instead of thinking it’s 2001 — are going to think it’s 1901,” Moore said, adding Y2K would have been avoidable “had we used four-digit year dates all along.”

The date switchover rattled a swath of vital tech, including Wall Street trading systems, power plants and tools used in air traffic control. The Federal Aviation Administration put its systems through stress tests and mock scenarios as 2000 drew closer.

“Twenty-three million lines of code in the air traffic control system did seem a little more daunting, I will say, than I had probably anticipated,” FAA Administrator Jane Garvey told NPR in 1998. Ultimately there were no systemwide aviation breakdowns, but airlines were put on a Y2K alert.

The crunch to safeguard these systems was a reminder that the technology underpinning people’s daily lives was interdependent and constantly evolving.

“People forget that the infrastructure for the Industrial Revolution took between 300 and 500 years to put in place,” University of Washington engineering professor Mark Haselkorn said at the time. “And we’re about 50 years into putting the infrastructure in place for the Information Age. So, it’s not surprising we’ve got some problems.”

People prepared to “bug out”

A mobile home; a year’s supply of dehydrated food; a propane generator — those were just some of the precautionary purchases California computer programmer Scott Olmstead made in advance of 2000. (He also said he was shopping for a handgun.)

If Y2K sparked a food shortage, or an electric grid failure, or even a crime spike, Olmstead told NPR he would be ready: “Whatever it is, if we want to ‘bug out,’ as the programmers say, we can do it. We’ve got a place to go.” He added that he might take his money out of the bank and convert it into gold, silver and cash.

While concerned citizens pondered a panic-proof wealth strategy, Brian Roby, vice president of First National Bank of Olathe, Kan., told NPR his institution would be ready to welcome customers on New Year’s Day rather than take the holiday off.

“We thought about it and we said, ‘Hey, if we’re ready, we’re ready. Let’s prove it. Let’s be the first to be open,’ ” Roby said. “And we’re just going to open up like it’s any other normal Saturday.”

Some financial analysts remained skeptical Y2K would come and go with minimal disruption. But by November 1999 the Federal Reserve said it was confident the U.S. economy would weather the big switch.

“Federal banking agencies have been visited and inspected. Every bank in the United States, which includes probably 9,000 to 10,000 institutions, over 99% received a satisfactory rating,” Fed Board Governor Edward Kelley said at the time.

Neighbors banded together

Dozens of communities across the U.S. formed Y2K preparedness groups to stave off unnecessary panic. Kathy Garcia, an organizer with the Y2K Community Project in Boulder, Colo., said fears of a societal meltdown offered an opportunity to take stock.

“How do we help each other out — not when a disaster hits, but beforehand?” Garcia told NPR’s Margot Adler in 1999.

Her project set up shop in a Boulder mall storefront, offering Y2K educational videos and exhibits on food storage. Local resident Richard Dash stopped by, urging people to consider their neighbors — not just themselves.

“Do you want to be the only house with lights, and the only house with the smell of food coming from it? Do you want to really turn yourself into a bunker?” he said.

Dash added he hoped nothing would come of Y2K besides a renewed feeling he could count on his community in an emergency, and it could count on him, too. Instead of conserving their extra food, he said, people could come together and share it.

“We’ll all have a picnic,” he said. “We’ll give extra food to FoodShare, and nobody’s going to be hungry for a while. And that’ll be just terrific.”

Squashing the Y2K bug

In the end, the worst fears lay in anticipation. Besides a few minor setbacks like an internet slowdown and reports of malfunctioning clocks, the aggressive planning and recalibration paid off. Humanity passed into the year 2000 without pandemonium.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” John Koskinen, chair of the President’s Council on Year 2000 Conversion, told NPR’s Weekend Edition on Jan. 1, 2000. “We expected that we would see more difficulties early on, particularly around the world.”

People like Jack Pentes of Charlotte, N.C., were left to figure out what to do with their emergency stockpiles. Pentes had filled 50 large soda bottles with tap water. “I used a half a dozen in the washing machine,” he told NPR. “I can’t bear to just pour it out and throw it away. There are too many people in the world that can’t get any decent water.”

Food writer Michael Stern meanwhile offered a chili recipe for people with leftover canned food — namely, Spam.

“One of its charms is that it doesn’t decompose,” Stern said. “No matter how long you cook it, it will always retain its identity as Spam.”

Others couldn’t quite shake the instinct to plan ahead. Alfred Lubrano, an essayist for The Philadelphia Inquirer, wrote a letter included in a time capsule to be opened for “Y3K” — the year 3000. Lubrano’s letter, which he read on NPR, ended with a question for whoever might find it in the next millennium.

“We’re human, same as you — flawed like you, decent like you,” Lubrano wrote. “We have not yet figured out this world, this life. Have you?”

Original reporting by NPR’s Jason Beaubien, Ira Flatow, Steve Inskeep, Mary Ann Akers, Jack Speer, Larry Abramson, Margot Adler and Bob Edwards.