Suzanne L. (Tower16977) reviewed Storm Warning: The Story of a Killer Tornado on + 5 more book reviews
Good book. A little slow to start but overall interesting.
"Much of the language of meteorology related to warfare."
Those words ring true for anyone who has an avowed interest in weather and severe storms: prepping for a chase is often likened to gearing up for battle... and the casualties are all too real. Having lived on and off in the South over the course of my life, tornado warnings, most terrifyingly at night, when sirens rouse you from sleep, are something you always remember, especially if you're close enough to have to take cover. Due to their unpredictability and destructive power, they are truly the stuff of nightmares, even if they remain a source of endless fascination.
Published in 2007, the book logically omits the most recent tornadic catastrophes to strike Oklahoma and other vulnerable parts of the US, the former of which always seems to incur the lion's share of them, including two 2013 events which rival some of the worst in American history. To recap that tragic day, which is certainly worth including, as it demonstrates the perpetual difficulty of predicting storms and providing sufficient warning to the public to take cover or get out of the path of the storm: the EF-5 Moore Tornado, on May 20, 2013, killed 24 people. Sadly, it followed a similar track to the 1999 event, the so-called "Bridge Creek" tornado, discussed in the book, killing 36 people. A second tornado, which spawned later that same day, killed another 24 people - but these were only two of a reported 71 tornadoes resulting from that particular outbreak.
The largest tornado ever recorded (a record at one time held by the 1999 Moore tornado), at 2.6 MILES wide, struck near El Reno, OK, only eleven days later. No loss of life is acceptable, but, shockingly, considering the size, it killed eight people, many fewer than the previous one on May 20, but that tally included four highly experienced storm chasers, which actually constituted the first known fatalities in the recorded history of storm chasing. TWISTEX scientist Tim Samaras, his son Paul and research partner Carl Young were killed in their car, while another veteran storm chaser, Richard Henderson, was also killed in that same area, demonstrating the speed with which the tornado unpredictably changed its track and closed in on them before they could escape. Perhaps they were unaware of the size and danger, as it was a rain-wrapped wedge, so its actual size may have been obscured, and, likewise, the danger. Other storm chasers Mike Bettes and Reed Timmer were injured or incurred damage to their vehicles, constituting one of the other 151 people injured that day.
Devastating storms seem to be a perennial source of fascination. To that end, there is no shortage of popular books on the subject. It is utterly stunning to think that as early as 1887, the word "tornado" was banned for use in popular publications, and remained prohibited from public broadcast until the 1950s, for fear of "panicking" the public. Clearly, early officials didn't realize the potential. This informative and engaging book is something of a mixed bag. It primarily focuses on the tempestuous weather, pardon the pun, of the state of Oklahoma, a geographically unique area prone to some of nature's worst destruction, which has occurred with regularity since time immemorial, but includes information on the history of weather forecasting, deadly storms, and some of the colorful characters who developed the technology we rely on today. The book opens with an event called Nature's Atom Bomb, a legendary and devastating tornado which struck multiple states in April, 1947, most famously, the town for which the event would be named, Woodward, Oklahoma, where 107 out of the 181 fatalities occurred.
About that same time, an unexpected figure began research into the phenomenon of severe weather and tornadoes, one Tetsuya Fujita (for whom the famous scale is named), a Japanese scientist who himself narrowly escaped death, not once, but twice. Ironically, it was not at the hands of mother nature, but an even more sinister new reality - nuclear obliteration. Fujita owed his survival to his father who asked him to attend a local university rather than a more distant one - Hiroshima, the first target destroyed by an atom bomb. On the day of the second bombing, Fujita narrowly escaped death again simply due to the fact that the primary target, the Kokura arsenal, located about three miles from that local university he decided to attend instead, Meiji College, was clouded over, so the plane diverted to the secondary target, the city of Nagasaki. Perhaps even more surprisingly, Fujita made his way to the US in 1953, and became a genuine celebrity. And not since 1953 had a tornado killed more than 100 people... until Joplin... which was the deadliest since 1947, killing 161 people and causing $2.8 billion in damages.
The book sets the stage in the US with a history lesson, and includes some information I haven't come across previously. It notes in particular age-old efforts, here, as early as the nineteenth-century, by early weather scholars, including US Army Signal Service astronomer Cleveland Abbe, the Chief Meteorologist with the US Weather Bureau, at that time an agency within the USDA, where he remained in government service until his death in 1916. The logical thinking at the time was that weather research should remain within the auspices of the US government. Things took a turn with the advent of commercial aviation, when another pioneer founded the National Weather and Aviation School in Michigan.
The USDA's weather bureau had formerly been mostly concerned with flood warnings, which it had started issuing in the early 20th century. Not only were US scientists studying weather phenomena, however: the "air mass theory," or the concept of warm and cold fronts, now universally accepted, was actually developed in Norway. Unfortunately, failure to acknowledge this vital research may have cost hundreds of lives, especially on one afternoon in March, 1925, when the Weather Bureau called for rains and shifting winds. The storm produced something far more devastating, however, specifically the most deadly tornado in recorded history: the Tri-State Twister tore a 210-mile-long track through Missouri, Indiana and southern Illinois. It was on the ground for a reported 3.5 hours, and moved at twice the speed of any other twister ever recorded. In total, the dead numbered 695: to the present, nigh on a century later, it remains the deadliest in history.
In response, and after a series of deadly hits, the Weather Bureau finally rescinded its blanket ban on the use of the term "tornado" in 1938, but not without resistance: it remained limited to only select, official channels, not for public broadcast. The term "tornado" was not uttered with any regularity by news outlets until the 1960s. Shockingly, despite the mounting casualties, as the population boomed and suburbs after the war meant that increasing numbers of people were moving into the path of the storms, weather stations and news outlets still remained prohibited from warning the public (so much for freedom of the press).
In 1948, two US military figures and weather forecasters, began to change that, however, with their efforts to study tornadoes, after some $10 million in damage was caused to the new Tinker AFB, just south of Oklahoma City, by a tornado in March 1948. Only at the base for three weeks before the event, Capt. Miller and another man, Major E.J. Fawbush, began studying charts and reports from previous tornado outbreaks to try to find some pattern. To everyone's shock, they were actually able to predict a tornado outbreak, for the first time the following year, suggesting that there may be some pattern and predictability to one of nature's most destructive forces. A second tornado at the base a year later caused some $6 million in damage, but not to the planes, which, due to their predictions, had been secured in the hangars and escaped the worst of the damage. A year later, in March, 1949, they issued yet another accurate forecast, setting the stage for what was to come: the scientific study of tornadoes and severe weather.
I won't provide a detailed description of what follows, as I think this sets the scene rather well. The book is well-written overall, and includes a wealth of detailed yet thoroughly digestible information, even for the lay person, but I struggled with the organization somewhat, which I think is its biggest flaw. It jumps back and forth between the history of the study of severe weather, the 1999 event itself, some of the science behind severe storms, and the influential figures who studied them, such as Fujita and Gary England, weatherman extraordinaire, who became a household name in Oklahoma for his coverage of the events, including the 1999 tornado which is the subject of the book.
The narrative was also somewhat disjointed: the stories of some of those affected by the event are introduced early on in the book, but disappear for entire chapters, making it somewhat challenging to follow the narrative. As opposed to in-depth interviews with survivors and witnesses, the book also relies heavily on what seem to be transcripts of news broadcasts that day, and perhaps newspaper snippets with statements from survivors and family members. This book and those like it are not for the faint of heart, but it's still inspiring to read of the stories of the survivors and their resilience, and of the men and women who continue their life's work of research to develop even better early warning systems, which is a major step in making tornado deaths a thing of the past.
Those words ring true for anyone who has an avowed interest in weather and severe storms: prepping for a chase is often likened to gearing up for battle... and the casualties are all too real. Having lived on and off in the South over the course of my life, tornado warnings, most terrifyingly at night, when sirens rouse you from sleep, are something you always remember, especially if you're close enough to have to take cover. Due to their unpredictability and destructive power, they are truly the stuff of nightmares, even if they remain a source of endless fascination.
Published in 2007, the book logically omits the most recent tornadic catastrophes to strike Oklahoma and other vulnerable parts of the US, the former of which always seems to incur the lion's share of them, including two 2013 events which rival some of the worst in American history. To recap that tragic day, which is certainly worth including, as it demonstrates the perpetual difficulty of predicting storms and providing sufficient warning to the public to take cover or get out of the path of the storm: the EF-5 Moore Tornado, on May 20, 2013, killed 24 people. Sadly, it followed a similar track to the 1999 event, the so-called "Bridge Creek" tornado, discussed in the book, killing 36 people. A second tornado, which spawned later that same day, killed another 24 people - but these were only two of a reported 71 tornadoes resulting from that particular outbreak.
The largest tornado ever recorded (a record at one time held by the 1999 Moore tornado), at 2.6 MILES wide, struck near El Reno, OK, only eleven days later. No loss of life is acceptable, but, shockingly, considering the size, it killed eight people, many fewer than the previous one on May 20, but that tally included four highly experienced storm chasers, which actually constituted the first known fatalities in the recorded history of storm chasing. TWISTEX scientist Tim Samaras, his son Paul and research partner Carl Young were killed in their car, while another veteran storm chaser, Richard Henderson, was also killed in that same area, demonstrating the speed with which the tornado unpredictably changed its track and closed in on them before they could escape. Perhaps they were unaware of the size and danger, as it was a rain-wrapped wedge, so its actual size may have been obscured, and, likewise, the danger. Other storm chasers Mike Bettes and Reed Timmer were injured or incurred damage to their vehicles, constituting one of the other 151 people injured that day.
Devastating storms seem to be a perennial source of fascination. To that end, there is no shortage of popular books on the subject. It is utterly stunning to think that as early as 1887, the word "tornado" was banned for use in popular publications, and remained prohibited from public broadcast until the 1950s, for fear of "panicking" the public. Clearly, early officials didn't realize the potential. This informative and engaging book is something of a mixed bag. It primarily focuses on the tempestuous weather, pardon the pun, of the state of Oklahoma, a geographically unique area prone to some of nature's worst destruction, which has occurred with regularity since time immemorial, but includes information on the history of weather forecasting, deadly storms, and some of the colorful characters who developed the technology we rely on today. The book opens with an event called Nature's Atom Bomb, a legendary and devastating tornado which struck multiple states in April, 1947, most famously, the town for which the event would be named, Woodward, Oklahoma, where 107 out of the 181 fatalities occurred.
About that same time, an unexpected figure began research into the phenomenon of severe weather and tornadoes, one Tetsuya Fujita (for whom the famous scale is named), a Japanese scientist who himself narrowly escaped death, not once, but twice. Ironically, it was not at the hands of mother nature, but an even more sinister new reality - nuclear obliteration. Fujita owed his survival to his father who asked him to attend a local university rather than a more distant one - Hiroshima, the first target destroyed by an atom bomb. On the day of the second bombing, Fujita narrowly escaped death again simply due to the fact that the primary target, the Kokura arsenal, located about three miles from that local university he decided to attend instead, Meiji College, was clouded over, so the plane diverted to the secondary target, the city of Nagasaki. Perhaps even more surprisingly, Fujita made his way to the US in 1953, and became a genuine celebrity. And not since 1953 had a tornado killed more than 100 people... until Joplin... which was the deadliest since 1947, killing 161 people and causing $2.8 billion in damages.
The book sets the stage in the US with a history lesson, and includes some information I haven't come across previously. It notes in particular age-old efforts, here, as early as the nineteenth-century, by early weather scholars, including US Army Signal Service astronomer Cleveland Abbe, the Chief Meteorologist with the US Weather Bureau, at that time an agency within the USDA, where he remained in government service until his death in 1916. The logical thinking at the time was that weather research should remain within the auspices of the US government. Things took a turn with the advent of commercial aviation, when another pioneer founded the National Weather and Aviation School in Michigan.
The USDA's weather bureau had formerly been mostly concerned with flood warnings, which it had started issuing in the early 20th century. Not only were US scientists studying weather phenomena, however: the "air mass theory," or the concept of warm and cold fronts, now universally accepted, was actually developed in Norway. Unfortunately, failure to acknowledge this vital research may have cost hundreds of lives, especially on one afternoon in March, 1925, when the Weather Bureau called for rains and shifting winds. The storm produced something far more devastating, however, specifically the most deadly tornado in recorded history: the Tri-State Twister tore a 210-mile-long track through Missouri, Indiana and southern Illinois. It was on the ground for a reported 3.5 hours, and moved at twice the speed of any other twister ever recorded. In total, the dead numbered 695: to the present, nigh on a century later, it remains the deadliest in history.
In response, and after a series of deadly hits, the Weather Bureau finally rescinded its blanket ban on the use of the term "tornado" in 1938, but not without resistance: it remained limited to only select, official channels, not for public broadcast. The term "tornado" was not uttered with any regularity by news outlets until the 1960s. Shockingly, despite the mounting casualties, as the population boomed and suburbs after the war meant that increasing numbers of people were moving into the path of the storms, weather stations and news outlets still remained prohibited from warning the public (so much for freedom of the press).
In 1948, two US military figures and weather forecasters, began to change that, however, with their efforts to study tornadoes, after some $10 million in damage was caused to the new Tinker AFB, just south of Oklahoma City, by a tornado in March 1948. Only at the base for three weeks before the event, Capt. Miller and another man, Major E.J. Fawbush, began studying charts and reports from previous tornado outbreaks to try to find some pattern. To everyone's shock, they were actually able to predict a tornado outbreak, for the first time the following year, suggesting that there may be some pattern and predictability to one of nature's most destructive forces. A second tornado at the base a year later caused some $6 million in damage, but not to the planes, which, due to their predictions, had been secured in the hangars and escaped the worst of the damage. A year later, in March, 1949, they issued yet another accurate forecast, setting the stage for what was to come: the scientific study of tornadoes and severe weather.
I won't provide a detailed description of what follows, as I think this sets the scene rather well. The book is well-written overall, and includes a wealth of detailed yet thoroughly digestible information, even for the lay person, but I struggled with the organization somewhat, which I think is its biggest flaw. It jumps back and forth between the history of the study of severe weather, the 1999 event itself, some of the science behind severe storms, and the influential figures who studied them, such as Fujita and Gary England, weatherman extraordinaire, who became a household name in Oklahoma for his coverage of the events, including the 1999 tornado which is the subject of the book.
The narrative was also somewhat disjointed: the stories of some of those affected by the event are introduced early on in the book, but disappear for entire chapters, making it somewhat challenging to follow the narrative. As opposed to in-depth interviews with survivors and witnesses, the book also relies heavily on what seem to be transcripts of news broadcasts that day, and perhaps newspaper snippets with statements from survivors and family members. This book and those like it are not for the faint of heart, but it's still inspiring to read of the stories of the survivors and their resilience, and of the men and women who continue their life's work of research to develop even better early warning systems, which is a major step in making tornado deaths a thing of the past.
