No one saw it coming and yet, at the same time, everyone did. From the pre-dawn hours of Tuesday until the chilled hours of sunrise Wednesday, metro Atlantans got the storm they expected — plus some.

We were warned. TV weather people had spent more than a day promising us that the South was about to get a big dose of the North. School systems robo-called parents with advisories about potential school closings. Highway transportation officials said they were ready.

And then, the first flakes fell?

Let’s back up. The National Weather Service in Peachtree City on Monday morning issued a winter storm watch, a clear signal that snow was coming. Projections showed a storm stretching in a diagonal from Texas and across the Carolinas. Georgia lay in its path.

Twenty-four hours after issuing that watch, the weather service followed up with a winter storm warning; 1 to 2 inches of snow were likely.

Thirty miles away at the Capitol, Gov. Nathan Deal issued an executive order authorizing state departments flexibility for employees to work from home or to work shorter hours. The area, the governor would say later, expected only a “light dusting“ of snow; officials expected regions south of the capital to get more.

The sun rose at 7:37, barely illuminating a leaden sky. Buses in most metro school systems rolled as usual. Folks went to work as they always do.

It was business as usual for Atlanta Mayor Kasim Reed, too. He had an affable mid-morning get-together with the Georgia Association of Business Brokers, then broke away for a meeting at the Ritz-Carlton downtown. There, he was honored as Georgia Trend’s “2014 Georgian of the Year.” He and Deal took turns smiling at each other.

About four miles away, the state opened the Special Operations Center, located in the Transportation Management Center near East Atlanta. People with laptops and phones readied to monitor the coming precipitation.

Just about then, the first flakes fell.

Luncheon finished, the mayor and governor headed back toward their offices. And it was then that Reed and Deal got an inkling of mayhem in the making.

What should have been a quick trip turned into a 60-minute series of stops and starts. Weather and traffic are no respecters of rank.

City Hall closed shortly after noon, with state workers not far behind. It took state employees half an hour or longer to exit the Pete Hackney parking deck near the Capitol. When they did, they encountered a wave of others also freed from work. Their cars formed lines that intersected at every crossroads.

School systems also reacted, alerting parents to come get their kids. Moms and dads joined the throngs.

How quickly did it happen? At 12:16 p.m., according to state officials, a computer model of the area’s major roadways depicted Atlanta’s interstates as a series of green lines and loops — they were clear, traffic moving smoothly. Twenty minutes later, they were red, a clear sign that the worst traffic jam in recent memory was well under way.

It got worse. By mid-afternoon, the merge at I-285 and I-75 was a study in glacial movement. Semis, sliding on the building snow, jack-knifed. Other motorists slid off shoulders or couldn’t get their cars up icy hills. Some people just left their cars and started walking.

And it only got worse. A woman delivered a child in her car. A woman nine months pregnant found space at a hotel only after some Home Depot employees, in town for a convention, doubled up to free up a room. Fifty-four students took refuge in a Fulton fire station. Elsewhere, more than 10,000 students hadn’t made it home as of 9 p.m. Tuesday; some were still in buses, while others were bedded down in school gymnasiums. Churches opened doors for the stranded; some 24-hour businesses also accommodated the storm’s travel victims. And everywhere, people walked, leaving cars and trucks on icy shoulders as the temperature dropped.

Shortly after 11 p.m., Deal and Reed addressed the media for the first time. The “unexpected storm” caught state officials by surprise with its speed and severity, Deal said.

“It’s not a simple solution,” Deal said. “I wish we could just wave a magic wand but we have to deal with reality.”

And so the night went with stranded travelers, abandoned cars: a region laid low by 2 inches of snow.

On Wednesday, the sun rose in a 16-degree sky. The day was clear, the sun weak. The temperature would not get out of the low 30s all day. For most of the metro region, it was a day to stay home, go sledding, to keep track of the misery that came from a leaden sky.

In a late-morning news conference, Reed said Atlanta’s first priority would be getting streets salted, sanded and safe for travelers. He said “a lot “ of people were still stranded across the city, but didn’t know how many. He blamed the massive gridlock on everyone – schools, businesses, government – all shutting down simultaneously.

And everyone had a story about the storm of 2014. Few were good.