November 30, 1985 David Hoadley, Editor 3415 Slade Court Falls

November 30, 1985
David Hoadley, Editor
3415 Slade Court
Falls Church, Va. 22042
STORM-TRACK
$4.60/year
Vol. 9, No. 1
Bi-monthly
(Checks payable to
David Hoadley)
I. COMMENTARY
Turkey time has past and so has the hump for May storm chasers. It's downhill now with LESS than six
months to the start of next spring's chase. Some of us got a taste of things to come at the 14th
Conference on Severe Local Storms in Indianapolis, October 29 to November 1, which your Editor attended
(arrived Wednesday evening). The highlight was Thursday night's movie/slide show, at which 4 1/2 hours of
wind, hail and lightning pummeled the silver screen, to a standing room only audience in the downstairs
conference room at the Hilton. However, if you weren't there, don't be too discouraged. While it was
excellent and occasionally breathtaking, there were few scenes to compare with the televised tornadoes
that you may have seen on the 15 minute National Geographic special on the cable TV program Nickelodeon
last August, or the hour long NOVA documentary "Tornado" in November. Incidentally, both camera crews
were out at the same time this past May, and neither saw a tornado -despite going with two different
chase teams (NOVA accompanied the National Severe Storms Lab (NSSL) and University of Oklahoma chase
teams' while Geographic stayed with the Editor and his daughter). Our paths crossed on the 25th in
central Oklahoma and were close on other days (Some towers filmed by NOVA looked like what we were seeing
from a different perspective). Like Geographic, NOVA wound up using old file footage from NSSL. One
sequence from the back seat of Lou Wickets van, in the last 15 minutes of the show, does show an apparent
narrow tornado at a 45 angle, rising up to the left. It turned out to be more "apparent," tornado ... it
wasn't. More on this later.
Some of the more spectacular Conference film footage included over a dozen slides of a large tornado from
(I believe) hurricane Elena, shown by O.U.'s Bill McCaul. It is shown passing an Air Force base near
Huntsville, Alabama. It appeared ragged but occasionally laminar, with a thick vortex column from a very
soft edged, dark base. However, ironically, there was very little heavy rain either ahead of or behind
it. It was the best hurricane tornado I have seen, although I cannot verify whether actual hurricane
winds were still being recorded at this time. The other highlight was a privately taken video by a local
in eastern Ohio of one of the May 31 tornadoes that raked that area. Vince Miller of the Cable Weather
Channel showed it. The sequence begins looking over a backyard at sometimes visible, low level cloud
fragments -swirling up from lower left to upper right, as small clusters of debris occasionally boil up.
"Look at, that paper going up." says the naive camera man, as he watches dry wall sections, shingles and
aluminum siding whip through the air. Calmly ..."It looks like a tornado." ...(more debris)... "(Salty
expletive!) It is a tornado!" This sequence was only two to three minutes long, but it was very funny as
an average guy, confronting a close call with disaster, reacts, well, honestly. One beautiful set of
slides was shown by Arjen Verkaik and his wife, Jerrine, two professional and very friendly Canadian
photographers. They also displayed dozens of beautiful prints with many perfectly polarized pictures of
cirrus streaks, towers, Cbs, hail storms, tornado, end-of-the-world storm bases and the finest lightning
I have seen anywhere. Many were taken in Canada, Colorado and the northern plains -as well as the
traditional storm states of the central plains. Consequently, their pictures show crisp, clear shots with
maximum visibility of storm structure and a minimum of low clouds obscuring the view. Consequently, from
the perspective of beauty, color and definition -they're the best single collection I have seen! All are
for sale; please write! Arjen Verkaik, RR 1, Box 21, Beamsville, Ontario, Canada L0R 1B0 His company is
"Skyart Productions." --- The Editor also met many old friends, again, including Tim Marshall from Texas,
who got together with him and a half dozen others in an adjoining conference room after Wednesday
evening's banquet for an informal slide-duel show (with blazing lenses!) ... "I can top this!" "No! I can
top that!!" (just kidding, Tim) Actually, the Verkaiks probably topped us all, with their total
perspective on the sky. In that vein, Robert Welch from Virginia winds up this Commentary with his own
view on that totality.
The Weather Perspective
The weather report indicates severe weather and the possibility of tornadoes, and the heart quickens. The
chase proceeds, severe storms hit -- tornadoes sighted -- and excitement, glee and gratification! But how
about when the storms fizzle out, or when there's no prospect of severe weather at all. Is the day (or
chase) considered a total loss, a washout, a big disappointment? It doesn't have to be.
There is beauty and excitement to be found in the approaching storms, but beauty and wonder also abounds
in many of the calmer aspects of weather. The various forms of cirrus, and especially the variations of
alto-cumulus that occur quite frequently in most parts of the country, can be quite picturesque. Building
cumulus clouds that don't lead to storms can still make a striking picture in their various formations.
And, of course, there are the occasionally striking sunsets (those of you in Texas are blessed with some
of the best).
So, ...if the storms fail to reach their potential ...or if there are no storms at all, don't be so quick
to despair (or grumble or whatever). Just look around you. This great atmospheric world that our good
Lord has given to us has a lot to see, to hear, to feel. 'Weather need not always be violent to be worth
observing, and experiencing."
II. ROSTER
The Roster lists names, addresses and brief biographies of those interested in or willing to correspond
with others about storms. Normally, only recent entries since the last issue are included.
Name
Address
Chase country - range
Stephen Eric Levine
29 Hatherly Road
Brighton, Massachusetts 02135
617-782-1495
Due to lack of car, range currently
limited to Boston metro area by
subway and bus. Chased by car in
western Ohio 1977-1980, before
moving to Boston.
(Biography: "age 33, single and looking. I've been into the power and beauty of storms
all my life and have done lots of poetry, artwork and photography on this subject.
While living in Cincinnati, I formed a Storm Observers Network and was featured in
the press and on one of the radio stations there in 1975. In addition, I have
worked extensively in the healing arts and have created a new system of therapy
that utilizes weather as inspiration and metaphor for psychological processes.")
Editor - Mr. Levine received an M.A. degree in Expressive Therapies from Ohio U. in 1982,
after completing his 105-page thesis project: "Psychometeorology: Weather as Therapy..." He is
currently developing a discipline called psychometeorology and believes that behavior can be
explained in meteorological terms. By using "weather imagery" Levine believes that people's
lives can be charted and, thus, solve their problems. "We all have personal inner weather that
corresponds to the weather we see outside our windows." Mr. Levine offers a range of
individual therapy sessions and group workshops for a fee.
III. LETTERS/PHONE CALLS TO THE EDITOR
(The Editor has received 15 typed, single spaced pages on hurricanes Elena and Gloria from Jim Leonard
(Florida), Robert Welch (Virginia), Richard Schwartz (Maryland) and Joseph R. Jacques (Massachusetts).
However, and notwithstanding the recent landfall of Kate -- first November hurricane to strike the
mainland in 50 years -- and the recent interest in a very active season, there is too much for this
issue. Since much interesting material remains to round out the spring chase season, from equally good
submissions sent to ST some five months ago, I am obliged to stick to a chronological course, at least
through this issue. Wherever this ends, the next one will be the hurricane one and will include the best
from these four experienced observers.)
Jack (Thunderhead) Corso dropped a note that he has recently become another papa, that is he has a new,
second daughter: Joanna Nicole; born October 18. Storm Track extends congratulations to Jack and Joan, as
another new squall line moves into the Corso household.
IV. BULLETIN BOARD/COMMERCIAL MARKET -$- FOR PICTURES
VII. FEATURE
V. CAMERA TIPS
VI. TRAVEL TIPS
CHASE 1985 - CONTINUED
By David Hoadley
(Storm Track received a fine account of the 1985 chase season for the Texas Tech University
Tornado Intercept Team, from Steven D. McCauley, graduate student in the Atmospheric Science
Group. It arrived early September, too late for inclusion in the May or July issues.
Consequently, although now somewhat out of chronological order, here is Steve's account.)
"For the Texas Tech Tornado Intercept Team, the severe weather season couldn't get started soon enough.
Constant vigilance of the synoptic situation was maintained after the first warm breezes from the Gulf of
Mexico made their way into west Texas in late February. Even as the days became warmer, however, dew
points in the 30's provided little hope for any significant activity in the Lubbock area. Our eyes began
to shift further to the east, across the moisture barrier known as the Caprock, in a seemingly vain
effort to find the breeding ground for the season's first severe weather on the south plains.
Patience, however, was never the forte of our chase team. After all, we had all heard of the infamous
west Texas thunderstorm, with rotating wall clouds, which erupt on warm springtime afternoons and every
now and then spit out sinuous funnels which rage uncontrollably across the high plains. Even Kevin
Withee, who came to Tech from the University of Nebraska and had already seen the coveted tornadic
thunderstorm, anxiously awaited the day he might study one -up close and personal. John Waters, who calls
Chicago home, had never even seen a tornado, although he had heard them somewhere in the distance behind
the skyline of the Windy City. As for myself, I grew up in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains of
West Virginia, regarded as the 'tornado vacuum' of the east. Some people there have never even heard of a
tornado! Thus, all three of us were more than ready for our first successful chase.
The morning of the tenth of March dawned with the long awaited for ominous conditions. As early as the
previous night, anticipation for the following day's severe weather potential had begun to increase as we
watched high level clouds streak across the moon in a northeasterly direction, while strong southeasterly
winds at the surface brought Lubbock's first humid evening. By morning, a cold front had entered the
Texas and Oklahoma panhandles. However, as upper air soundings were being analyzed, the winds in Lubbock
shifted to the southwest and dew point temperatures started to plummet.
The decision was quickly made to head northeast to the Wichita Falls Area, where the dryline and the cold
front were expected to meet.
Blue skies and scattered small Cu were awaiting as we arrived in north-central Texas. We knew there was a
substantial inversion to break at mid-levels, so we were not immediately disappointed. Within an hour, a
tornado watch was issued, and we were in the middle of it. Towers were building to the northwest, so we
crossed the Red River into Oklahoma. We drove into a potent squall line outside of Frederick, where the
vehicle was buffeted by 60 MPH winds and pea-sized hail. We followed the line back to Benjamin, Texas,
with street flooding evident all the way. Crossing the dryline west of Benjamin, we encountered the ever
popular west Texas phenomenon: blowing dust, which transformed the chase vehicle into a 60 MPH mudball on
wheels. This first chase covered nearly 700 miles.
Although no tornadic thunderstorms were seen, we felt initiated
and prepared for our first close encounter. Unfortunately, we
once again had to play the waiting game but only for a couple
of weeks.
On March 26, a dryline began advancing across west Texas into
an area of warm temps, high dew points and 'textbook'
environmental wind shear. With towers starting to build to the
north, we packed our gear and headed up I-27 towards Plainview,
with aspirations of seeing our first tornadic storm.
Many false alarms tempted us along the way as we scanned the
southwest flanks of the towering storms. Intense dust whirls
forming along the leading edge of the gust front were accepted
as omens of better things to come. Reports
of the first funnel clouds cams out of Silverton, where we had stopped for gas only 45 minutes earlier.
As we dropped off the Cap, anvils were spreading northeastward; but to the distant, southwest, we could
see the back edge of a hard tower in the southernmost part of the storm line. The weather radio alarm
sounded, and we could faintly hear the report of a tornado on the ground near Floydada, only 25 miles
away! Now, the major problem was avoiding the northeast quadrant of the storm, where large hail was
almost a sure bet. We figured we could outrun it and the hail and get to the desired southeast side.
However, our calculations proved to be seriously wrong. As we raced due south towards Matador, the back
end of the storm became obscured in heavy rain and hail. Our speed reduced due to deteriorating
visibility.
Small hail began pinging on the roof of the car, and
the wind began to accelerate. As we continued slowing
down, the hail became larger. Suddenly, the weather
radio alarm went off again, but the static was too loud
to understand anything. Then we came to the crest of a
small hill and our hearts stopped, as a dense wall of
brown dust crossed the road ahead less than a half mile
away. We stared in awe for only a moment, when an
incredible pounding noise suddenly broke our
concentration. The subtle pinging of small hail had
turned into a thundering barrage of tangerine-sized ice
balls, which were falling with painful accuracy onto
our one and only chase vehicle. Quick thinking by the
chase team driver salvaged the windshield, as we pulled
alongside a lone barn-type structure.
By this time, the hail was crashing all around us and
air temperatures were falling fast, as if a
January 'blue norther' were passing. Then the hail suddenly stopped, and an eerie silence fell over the
now white countryside. No one said a word, but our imaginations soon took over as we could all clearly
picture the barn exploding straight up into the air, with our Subaru following close behind. The unknown
was too much, so we started to back away from our shelter but to no avail. As soon as we had gotten ten
feet from the barn, the hail returned in serious fury. Again, we waited.
Finally, the flanking line passed to the east and we came out of our hiding place. We could see the
extensive curtain of hail, wrapping completely around the southwestern side of the storm. As far as the
eye could see, the ground was covered with hail. Temperatures had dropped from the mid-80's to the low
60's. -- The journey back home began slowly and quietly, with the first real break in tension coming as
we approached the highway back to Lubbock and saw a familiar road sign as we crossed a bridge covered
with hail -- a sign which said 'Watch for ice on bridge.'
For the next month, days were filled with various severe weather events, which we were able to witness
and -on occasion- photograph. But we had not yet seen a tornado. With finals week approaching, the
opportunities for chasing were becoming extremely limited. However, on April 28 and after three days of
intense studying, I decided to take a break and do a little private chasing. By mid-morning, a steep
temperature gradient existed between Midland (87 deg F) and Lubbock (65 deg F). Strong southerly winds
were being lifted over this dome of cool air, and a dryline had just crossed Carlsbad, New Mexico, on an
intercept course with the strong uplift zone near Lamesa, Texas. Within minutes, I was on the way to
Lamesa! There was moderately dense fog all the way, but I knew conditions were
bound to change. Late reports had Midland
near 90 deg with southerly winds, while
Lamesa was 66 deg with powerful easterly
winds making driving difficult. Twenty
minutes after arriving in Lamesa and with
visibility still obscured, a local
tornado warning was issued. The radio
announcer was forecasting doom and
destruction and constantly repeated that
this was an emergency situation, not to
be taken lightly (which tantalizing
reports were also being picked up by Gene
Moore and Chris Johns as they charged
south from a late start at Lubbock too
late to see anything; ST, Vol. 8, No.
4.). People began abandoning their cars
In fat city
and sought shelter in roadside houses. I
broke out of the fog about three
miles south of the city, just in time to see a massive, rotating wall cloud extending almost to the
ground bearing a multiple vortex tornado, which seemed virtually stationary, churning up the west Texas
dust. Several funnels were dipping in and out of the clouds near this mammoth storm, and I sat perfectly
still in total fascination. There was no roar, just a high pitched whistling sound that grew louder, as
individual secondary vortices rotated around the main funnel on my side of the storm. As the entire storm
system moved ever so slowly to the northeast, bulges of cloud material on the northeast side of the wall
cloud could intermittently be seen, giving it the appearance it was somehow breathing as it marched
towards Lamesa. Fortunately, the storm retreated back into the skies before reaching the city limits.
However, new towers were exploding to the southeast, and before the day was over, I witnessed two other
tornadic storms, one near Ackerly and the other just east of Vealmoor. I couldn't think of a better way
to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon." (Editor - At this point, we break off from Steve's account and pick up
on May 12th, where Storm Track left off in the last issue.)
- - While May 12 frustrated most of the chasers from NSSL, O.U. and yours truly -- even with "Godzilla
instabilities" (Al Moller) of -13 Lifted Index at Abilene, the only other vortex photographed that day,
besides the Editor's mini-funnel, was one by William Barlow: "... a nice funnel cloud here in Edmond,
Oklahoma ... Believe it or not, I saw it out of my fiancé’s apartment window and then drove out to a
clear spot to take a few pictures." (Oh well, better that she knows about this strange behavior now than
later. -Ed.)
On the 13th, the Editor left Moore, Oklahoma and drove to NSSL for an early morning's fix on the day's
activity. Low and wet overcast depressed him as he entered the Lab. Wham, bam! Unusual early morning
tornado watch issued from 8:15 to 11:00 AM CDT (unless otherwise noted, all further times are in CDT)
from west-northwest of Wichita Falls to south-southwest of San Angelo, Texas, far to the southwest. No
time for a surface analysis. I was gone, charging down I-35! With forecast movement to the northeast at
g5 kts, there should have been enough time for a Gainesville or Denton intercept, several hours later when these storms reached there. My anticipation quickened as the static laden radio crackled out reports
of a 9:00 AM (!) tornado south of Altus. The rain had now increased dramatically in gusting sheets, as
more and more timid drivers pulled off -leaving me alone and "pushing the envelop," as visibility
decreased at times to a few hundred feet. Then a 10:45 AM radio report told the rest of the story:
already strong storms were on radar 15 miles southeast of Stephenville and at Denton. At about this time,
the squall line passed me just north of Ardmore, Oklahoma, with intense cloud-to-ground lightning and a
blizzard of rain. Obviously, the line was moving, or redeveloping, eastward much more rapidly than
earlier forecast; no way for me to catch it now.
At this point and just west of Ardmore, I stopped to think it over and took a nice mammatus picture, as
the storm line swept on eastward with rapid clearing to the west. However, unwilling to give up so early
in the day (11:00 AM, already!) I studied the solid anvil line to my northeast, through eastern Oklahoma.
A new tornado watch had just been issued from Emporia, Kansas to Durant, Oklahoma until 5:00 PM. Perhaps
the Oklahoma end of this squall would slow, and I could catch it. Banking on that long shot, I charged
east into Ardmore, looking for US 70 to Durant. -- To this day, I don't know what happened, but the
closely watched road signs never told me which way to go.
* Unless otherwise noted, all times are in CDT
Since I was already on US 70, I continued on into town, and on, and on; as I passed through the business
district, across some very rough railroad tracks (on a US highway?), past boarded-up stores (became a two
lane road), down into a clump of trees and out, and became a parking lot for the local
baseball team! Dead end!
A chasers
nightmare come true. Being a quick
study, I decided I wasn't meant to go
that way. So I turned west and back up
I-35 to Oklahoma City, licking my
wounds and thinking about tomorrow.
Enroute, another tornado watch was
broadcast for south central Kansas and
northwest Oklahoma (to just east of
Clinton) until 7:00 PM. On the distant
western horizon, towers were building
on the dryline. I charged into the OK
City loop and spun out onto I-40,
heading west, leaving a solid line of
old anvils (with few visible bases)
across eastern Oklahoma.
Dead end!
The rest, of the day went better. After driving through sunny skies, I turned towards Watonga and the
gathering dryline towers, looped around north of there and came back through Okeene, where I saw a high
base funnel. The radar measured Cb tops just to my southwest were only about 30,000 feet at 5:15 PM. But
35 minutes later, a small ground- tube tornado popped up nine miles southeast of Watonga (Illustrated in
ST, Vol. 8, No. 4). An O.U. chase team was also there, near Okeene, but amateur chaser Rocky Rascovich
was closest and saw/photographed his first (was he ever excited!) I concluded that my misadventure in an
Ardmore baseball parking lot was fate after all, directing me to a completely unanticipated tornadic
storm at the other end of the state -- and, as it turned out, the only one that occurred anywhere in
Oklahoma the rest of that day.
In the Houston area, Jack Corso picked up a wall cloud and some small funnels on the l3th, after a quick
flying trip west from his New York home. However, the 14th turned out even better, as an early morning
storm line moved east-southeast from just west of San Antonio. "With the sky darkening that afternoon,
but thinking the main storm was still several miles away, I decided to grab a quick bite at a McDonald's
on I-10 west of Houston. Upon leaving, I was surprised to see black, towering cumulus congestus clouds
racing northward and growing in a line, right on top of me! Looking north into the line, I saw a funnel
on its first oscillation downward, moving north-northeast! I flew into my car and
raced eastbound on I-10 into the
Houston city limits to get in front of
this storm. Placing the cloud to my
northwest, I took the first northbound
exit (I didn't even notice what the
markings were, because my eyes were
glued to the cloud and I was by
myself). Turning north, the funnel
went up and started down a second
time. I raced to get in front of it,
when it again disappeared. However,
the small rotating wall cloud was
still intact, so I proceeded to
position myself directly in front;
driving another 5-10 miles to the
north-northeast. Then I stopped to
shoot as the funnel started down a
third time.
Sheet and cloud-to-cloud lightning played often to the northeast in the main cell governing the funnel.
The view above is looking to the west southwest. The funnel appeared to lift in this picture and was on
the way up when it passed into darkness overhead, about a half mile from my location. Thereafter, it was
dark and calm with light rain. The clear slot for this storm was very slight, with more clouds and new
storms following close behind."
On May 16, the Editor began a most unusual chase at Lubbock, Texas. Bruce Pettus from Seattle,
Washington, had driven down from Oklahoma City the night before, and we formed an impromptu chase team at
the airport. A surface low was moving in from New Mexico across the southern panhandle, but late morning
(10:00 AM) temperatures remained cool with 72 deg F at Lubbock and Fort Stockton. Dewpoints were
adequate, though, with the low 60's through this area and up to 64 deg F at Carlsbad, New Mexico. My
forecast picked an area south and southwest of Lubbock. We left at 11:30 AM and drove southwest, hoping
to break out of the pervasive low level Cu and haze into clearer, warmer air. However, this condition
dogged us all the way, and we never did hit the warm. At Andrews, we began passing under the anvils from
distant CB’s to our southwest. We continued on to Kermit, hoping for closer development.
Gradually, we came under solid, mid-level anvil across the entire western horizon, with weak scattered
mammatus and some buildups to our northeast -under a narrow cloud break (with traces of blue). The only
clear air and good heating was well off to the southeast and -that- only a distant golden glow some 75100 miles away. So, about 3:00 PM, we turned back toward Andrews, all but writing the day off. 'de drove
an easy 40-50 MPH and just enjoyed that southwest Texas country, new to both of us. No pictures had been
taken, since there was virtually nothing of interest anywhere to suggest strong instability or
significant severe weather. However, as we approached Andrews, the cumulus to our northeast began
building seriously into an increasingly dark, imbedded area, with a rainfree base on the south flank (3)
and increasing cloud-to-ground lightning. Our pace quickened, and we just got, ahead of it south of
Seminole, where a nice tail cloud formed into a lowered cumulus base, trying to become a wall cloud.
However, there was insufficient convection overhead to support it (i.e. the imbedded overcast around and
to the northeast was so light), and it rained out. We turned east, onto US 180 toward Lamesa and a
second, larger growing cell to our immediate northeast. Then, things really began to happen.
That somewhat disorganized cell began to take shape. Although still imbedded in pervasive overcast, the
base hardened and became almost linear -though irregular- on an east west axis. Just, as it began looking
like a "hailer," our low level visibility was cut off by dust from powerful, inflowing southerly wind.
For the next 10-15 miles, we couldn't see more than a few hundred feet laterally (often down to zero)
through that, red west Texas dust. Just above this surging dust layer, we could see up and at a 45 deg
angle on both sides. I intently watched the ragged edged base to my north.
Then, suddenly, as if passing through a curtain, we broke into the clear -- and there to the northnorthwest was a large rotating wall cloud, almost on the ground, with tornadic suction vortices dropping
down. The upper level cloud deck still was more linear than circular, but rotation was unmistakable. The
dust wall to our west seemed to be feeding into the back-side of this formation, a most curious
structure, where northerly outflow would have seemed more likely. We photographed several vortices and
then went on to Lamesa and north to Tahoka where we photographed another tornado as a distant ground tube
near a small funnel. This was very interesting from its location between two apparent outflow boundaries.
A lower level north-south shelf cloud was perpendicular to and just south of a higher level east-west
cloud base; both from older, apparently downdrafting convection (see above). It was a most unusual
feature, with contrasting formations not normally seen in such juxtaposition.
Ken Howard and his wife, Cindy, were also out on this day, returning to Colorado from a family visit in
San Angelo. En route, Ken decided to go by way of Cap Rock (the town), and the escarpment that bears its
name, through the panhandle. "I had always wanted to see those legendary towns and backroads that I had
heard so much about." From Post, the Howards proceeded north on State 207, passing the Salt Fork River,
where two school bus loads of kids had stopped for an afternoon picnic against the darkening western
horizon. Ken continued north, eyeing the approaching storm with gathering concern. Then Cindy said,
"What's that going across the road up there?" It was a cone tornado, just behind the wall cloud! ...then
they saw a second one (!!), more ropelike in nature.
The Howards retreated back south to the picnic sight and gave warning, which was promptly heeded. They
continued south, then turned west on State 211, where they saw yet a third tornado, similar to the
second. Some luck! Just out on a nice afternoon drive in the country, and three (3) twisters drop right
in their laps. Apparently, the last tornadic wall cloud is what Bruce and I saw southeast of Tahoka,
after it produced. Altogether a most surprising day -considering the lack of early severe storm signs. A
good lesson, also: to remain vigilant even on marginal days.
The next notable chase was the 19th, when I started out from Childress towards southwest Kansas but got
side-tracked by building towers southwest of Clarendon (Cap Rock storms!). Chucking my earlier forecast
for an already overcast Kansas environment in favor of the building cells on the clear southern edge of
that cloud deck, I drove down from Clarendon to Brice. Several large thunderstorms developed and moved
southeast towards Childress. I stayed close behind and broke through the rain just west of town, as a
beautiful wall cloud formed 3-4 miles southwest of Childress. Although not rotating, it developed a
powerful tail cloud. The latter initially formed detached from the wall and looked stationary, like a
twisted curtain, with short cloud streamers hanging underneath. It then joined the northern end of the
wall and seemingly was drawn up into it at enormous speed -- easily 100 MPH or more.
Est 5:48 PM CDT (left), 5:56 PM CDT (right)
A small shear boundary funnel formed like a collar at the entry point into the wall. I continued to
follow it as it outflowed and proceeded south to Paducah, watching it constantly. The interesting point
about this storm is that it produced a tornado warning. I spoke to a deputy sheriff on the north side of
town, and he said that a housewife had reported one on the ground. However, the sheriff had only seen the
threatening sky just after, and presumed she had seen something. True, there was finger-like (nonrotating) fractus almost on the ground along that outflowing south flank but tornado (?) ...it wasn't. I
was reasonably sure of that, having driven under the base and with constant surveillance all the way down
from Childress. It was a valuable lesson not to be so fast to bemoan the next "sighting" that I miss.
Sometimes these reports just aren't what they seem. "Sometimes pa, they ain't even there!"
Steve McCauley's Texas Tech crew did see their first tornado this day in a densely wooded area seven
miles northwest of Blackwell, Texas. "This storm was of particular interest for two reasons: 1) It was
the first tornado seen by the entire team, and 2) the storm which spawned it was, initially, one of the
weakest, that dotted the west Texas area that afternoon. Severe thunderstorm warnings were being issued
for storms just to the northeast of Lubbock, much more accessible than the one we eventually saw 125
miles to the southeast. However, we felt that area was more likely to produce, and it did."
On May 20, I left Abilene, where my forecast picked a west central Texas area from about Childress to San
Angelo and Mineral Wells to Midland. A tornado box was later forecast for that area and into south
central Oklahoma. CB’s quickly built along the watch's central axis but -too early- formed into a line,
suggesting mainly hailers, which they turned out mostly to be. However, they did produce three small
tornadoes; two of which were photographed by the Editor and Tim Marshall. Since Tim was much the closer,
I now defer to his account.
Tahoka Twins
May 20, 1985
"'Just missed Dave Hoadley," said the forecaster at the Abilene Weather Service, as I arrived at, 1:00
PM.' Ah, I must be on the right scent, I said to myself. Indeed, first echoes were just appearing on
radar. Thunderstorms began forming early in the day along a weak cold front boundary, which extended from
south of Lubbock to Wichita Falls. I drove northwestward toward three isolated CB’s. "Which one to
choose?' I picked the Cb furthest south, since it was closer to the upper trough and surface dryline.
Really, it was a guess (also, made by the Editor). Enroute to the target storm, the other two CB’s
dissipated.
I arrived in Jayton at 3:00 PM, with a line of heavy rain to my north. A large tower and rain free base
(RFB) loomed on the western horizon. I moved for position and stopped 8 miles north of Claremont,. Scud
moved southward from the rain area and ascended, becoming attached to the RFB and actually forming the
wall cloud (I've seen this on several occasions). Frequent positive lightning bolts stemmed from the RFB
overhead. A few cloud-to-ground bolts extended from the anvil. The wall cloud soon became shrouded by a
thin veil of precipitation. I figured Lubbock radar might be showing a hook echo now. No sooner ...a
tornado warning was issued! A large funnel emerged from the wall cloud about 3:20 PM, lasting about 25
minutes, smooth and tapered toward the ground. The RFB grew smaller and dissipated. No clear slot was
observed.
Meanwhile, another updraft developed about 30 miles to the west. The entire storm was backbuilding."
(Editor - The pattern seemed to be for a lowering to develop along the generally flat southern base of
one cell, only to shortly be wiped out by the outflow from another, adjacent cell just to the east. This
pattern repeated itself westward, and Tim psyched it out correctly, and early. Thus, he preceded me by
about 10 minutes on his way to Tahoka.) "I raced westward on Rt 380 through Post, and drove up on the
Caprock at 5:00 PM. A line of towering cumulus was growing along the cold outflow boundary, surging
southward. I moved into position under the RFB.
But, before I could stop at a good film site, a dust whirl formed just south of my location at 5:25 PM.
The tornado had a single-cell circulation, was about 50 yards wide, and traveled south for three miles
across newly planted farm fields. A dense dust bowl was observed in contact with the ground for 9
minutes. At times, the bottom of the dust, bowl appeared V-shaped, as the surface-based inflow organized.
Dust filled the circulation, and a tube extended upward to a small funnel at cloud base. With time, the
dust tube stretched and tilted northward, as the bottom portion of the tornado was pushed south. A
second, wider tornado developed almost simultaneously to the east" (Both also photographed by the Editor
from 8-10 miles further east). "The circulation at the ground was disorganized and, at times, appeared to
be multi-vortex with three dust, tubes in ground contact. This dusty vortex was about 100 yards wide but
varied considerably in width. The second tornado traversed plowed fields for s& miles, lasting 17
minutes" (The Texas Tech team also may have seen one of these "six miles south of Tahoka ...even though
it only lasted 30 seconds."). /// ST now comes to a natural break in its May account and concludes with
a missive from John Weaver.
- - "Found this account, while looking through some old Monthly Weather Reviews, and thought the readers of
Storm Track would enjoy it," (From Vol. 32, July 1904, pg. 324). (Editor - Incidentally, for those who
don't know, John was not a subscriber then.)
An Italian Hailstorm in 1545
"Mr. E.L. Cooley of Chicago, has kindly communicated to the Chief of Bureau the following account of a
hailstorm that occurred in July, 1545, about a day's journey south of Lyons. The description, as given by
artist, Benvenuto Cellini, who was then journeying from Paris to Florence, will be found in vol. 2, p.
88, of his autobiography, published in London,1903: