Leslie R. Lemon - friend and colleague - has died

Les giving a presentation in 2009.

I first met Les Lemon (as I recall) when I began working part-time at the National Severe Storms Laboratory (NSSL) as a grad student in 1974  following my "sabbatical" in the US Army.  Les and I shared a passion for severe storms and it was inevitable we would become friends as well as colleagues.  Les told me that he was an eyewitness to the destructive Ruskin Heights tornado of 20 May 1957, and that event was the trigger for his choice of a career.  When we met, he was working with Don Burgess and Rodger Brown in learning how to use a radar with Doppler capability (which eventually would become the WSR-88D network radar).  Les was also working to analyze observations from the NSSL mesonetwork in order to learn about what was going on at the surface during the data collection exercises held yearly by NSSL.  Back in those days, the mesonetwork data required a great deal of effort to analyze.  Les was willing to do whatever it took to learn from the observations, regardless of the observing systems in use.

                                                    The original TDU staff.

Over time, I came to learn that Les only had a bachelor's degree and he told me he just wasn't up to the math he was required to know in grad school.  Obviously, Les didn't have his "ticket" punched by acquiring a doctorate. Sadly, the highest levels of NSSL management had no respect for his dedication and hard work - they were plagued with what I consider academic snobbery.  And it got no better when he moved to join the Techniques Development Unit (TDU) of SELS in Kansas City.  New boss but the same old prejudice against a researcher without a doctorate. 

An important early fruit of his labors was the development of the "Lemon Technique" of diagnosing storms using their 4-dimensional structure and evolution by operational forecasters.  This work had roots in the work of Dr. Keith Browning, whom was deeply admired by Les.  Les received a NOAA award in 1976 for his collaborative research with Don Burgess and Rodger Brown on the recognition of the so-called "Tornado Vortex Signature" revealed by analysis of Doppler radar

It was when we were working together in the TDU that Les and I published our paper in 1979 about mesocyclone and supercell evolution.  That was a collaboration I have been grateful for ever since.  We did a lot of other work together because we had complementary interests and skills.

Les finally tired of being disrespected in the TDU and left NOAA in 1981 for the private sector companies who were building the WSR-88D.  After that, we only saw one another occasionally as our careers followed distinctly different paths.  In 2000, Les was invited to give lectures on the use of radar for severe storm detection in China by the China Meteorological Administration Training Centre and I also was invited some years later.  We both wanted to combine our skills again by being joint lecturers ... but alas, it never came to pass.

Les and I had talked of putting together some instructional texts about severe storms when we were in the TDU.  I was to write about the operational mesoscale aspects of severe storms and he was to do a volume on the storm scale aspects.  His departure left me to write his volume in his stead.  They became the 2-volume set "The Operational Meteorology of Convective Weather"  I've often wondered what his version of the 2nd volume would have been like as I felt not quite up to the task at the time.

Les was a role model of a scientist for me, right from the start.  I wish Les and I could have had much more time working together.  He will be missed by many and can never be replaced.  His contributions are enormous and it was a privilege to have worked with him.  A common thread in those tributes is the kindness Les showed most everyone - it was an important part of who he was.

My deepest condolences to his family and other close friends.

A tribute to Fred Goodwin, Jr.

Yesterday morning (14 Aug 2019), I lost another friend:  Fred Goodwin, Jr.  My sincere condolences to his family and his friends (of which there are many, for good reasons).  What I'm saying here isn't a summary of Fred's life, but is an account of how and why Fred and I became friends.

This is one of my favorite photos of Fred, giving a summary of my son Chad's accomplishments on the way to Eagle Scout, at the Ketner farm (see below), during his Eagle Scout Court of Honor.

Thanks to the enthusiasm of my son Chad, he joined a Boy Scout troop (Troop 777, now dissolved) and though I didn't know it nor did I even suspect it, I was about to embark on a great adventure with my whole family - Scouting!  My knowledge of scouting was minimal, since I had quit Scouts as a boy before I even earned my Tenderfoot status - the leadership of that troop was more like a collection of Army drill sergeants and that was not appealing to me.  What I wanted was hiking and camping!  Little did I know that my wish would be granted decades later!

In the process, I was "drafted" as an Assistant Scoutmaster to be a "patrol dad" in the new Eagle patrol that included Chad.  It was via this process that I met my fellow patrol dad, Fred Goodwin, Jr.  I knew nothing about Scouting and Fred was physically challenged as a result of Cerebral Palsy.  He needed some support to stand and was eventually confined to a wheel chair.  But Fred was an Eagle Scout, as was his father, so he used his knowledge and experience to help me learn what I needed to learn.  Together, our combined abilities were one complete patrol dad.  And I found an amazing new friend.  Plus I got to know his boys, John and Fred III, and truly enjoyed the fun experiences we had on hiking and camping trails where my partner couldn't go.  At the end of the trail, Fred would be there with questions about how it went and what experiences we had shared.  He was justifiably proud of his sons, who both eventually became Eagle Scouts - Freddie at the same time as my son.  They were the second and third boys to make Eagle in our Troop.  And the first 777 Eagle scout was in our patrol!

Our patrol had some boys who were challenged by their home situations.  That was common in Troop 777.  Fred told me that for some boys, the experiences they had as a result of scouting could be the only positive experiences they were going to have in a given week.  Moreover, Fred informed me that if Chad needed any correction to his words and/or actions during a scouting event, the other adults in the troop would take care of it.  In other words, I was to back off and shut up!  I learned the wisdom of that and found I have large reserves of patience for teenage young men other than Chad.  I tried to put my ego aside, and to apply that lesson of patience with my own son!  We're in Scouting to help boys mature into good men, to push that process forward however we could.  The troop was zeroed in on the boys, not us!!  It became evident that our leadership included some pretty wise people, including Fred.

Fred and I made extensive use of land owned by the Ketner family in East Norman, who had generously donated use of that land for weekend campouts.  Fred let me know that our job was to help the boys learn how to run the patrol on their own, so we gradually increased the scope of their responsibilities and after a few years, Fred and I could relax and let the boys run things.  They readily accepted their responsibilities and I learned that we had to allow our Scouts to fail as they tried new things.  Failure can be an excellent teacher. 

There are far too many stories of how Fred helped me in Scouting to tell here.  The Ketner farm was where Freddie and Chad wanted their Eagle Scout Court of Honor.  That ceremony became quite a memorable experience, thanks to hordes of evil chiggers!

It became clear that I wanted to be part of the process that Fred and other adults in the troop were carrying out.  There was a perfect balance between fun and doing what was necessary to achieve rank advancement in Scouting.  We were not a Scouting "eagle factory"- but we did produce our fair share.

Fred accepted many more roles in the troop than "just" a patrol dad.  He was always willing to help if need be, and he helped many more Scouts than the members of our Eagle Patrol.  He trusted me with both his boys during their journey in Scouting as Scouts.  His boys have both become fine young men, with families of their own, and I'm proud of what they've achieved so far.  We loved Fred's parents a lot, and still miss them.  I know Fred was proud of his family, naturally.

Fred's grown-up boys John (left) and Fred III ("Freddie"- right) as we were working on a project at Fred's home.

Fred was "handicapped" with his CP, but in my humble opinion, he did more with his capabilities than most others without such handicaps ever manage to achieve.  He worked for the OU Physical Plant and clearly was an important cog in that machine.  That Fred will be missed is pretty much assured and his deeds achieved good ends that will live on, many of which I probably am unaware.

A tribute to a very special friend - Joel Price

Anyone observant of my posts on Facebook will recognize the name of someone whose shared thoughts here were so very much in sync with my own: Joel Price. I "met" Joel Price, thanks to my friend RJ Evans. RJ invited Joel to participate on his internet radio show, Shocknet Radio's "American Heathen," and later invited my participation. Joel's persona on the show was as "Yahweh" and he dispensed considerable wisdom and insight in his show segments. And the theme song for his show segment was Chris Rae's "The Road to Hell" - a favorite tune for me.  The lyrics to Part I: 

Stood still on a highway
I saw a woman
By the side of the road
With a face that I knew like my own
Reflected in my window
Well she walked up to my quarterlight
And she bent down real slow
A fearful pressure paralysed me in my shadow
She said 'Son, what are you doing here?
My fear for you has turned me in my grave.'
I said 'Mama, I come to the valley of the rich, 
myself to sell.'
She said 'Son, this is the road to hell!'

I think most all the listeners looked forward to Joel's part in the show.  His radio voice was dignified and powerful, making his words seem all the wiser. After RJ shut down Shocknet Radio, I stayed in contact with Joel and always found his FB posts to be of the same caliber as his radio show segments. I've reposted many of his contributions.  He was a relentless fan of the Constitution and our nation, with its mandated separation of church and government.  And, of course, he was an atheist.  There are, no doubt, more accomplishments and wisdom he dispensed about which I know nothing.

Joel was a practicing attorney in Fort Smith, AR, and I can imagine he was a successful lawyer. His arguments certainly reflected his commitment to truth and justice.  His tag line for his American Heathen show segments was:

"It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are 20 gods or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."
 
- a quote from Thomas Jefferson.  Recently, he informed selected friends with whom he was in touch in June that he had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer that had metastasized to his lungs.  This morning (30 July 2019) I got word that Joel has died.  Cancer can be really cruel. For someone I never met face-to-face, I find myself seriously grieving over the loss of my friend. His insights and his profoundly rational views (especially concerning religion) will be missed by many, and I will miss him terribly. My condolences to his family and his close friends.

A tribute to Matt Biddle, my friend and colleague

 

Matt with his daughter, Faith, on the occasion of a visit to our home

My friend Matt Biddle died last evening (10 April 2018 - the 39th anniversary of the Red River Valley tornado outbreak), after a long struggle with a host of physical challenges.  I can't detail his entire medical history, but his most recent problem was a heart stoppage, resulting in anoxic brain damage.  When Vickie and I went to see him in the ICU of Mercy Hospital, he was unresponsive and on a ventilator.  His family then decided the best thing would be to take him off of life support.  His passing was peaceful and his family was there at the end.

Matt was saddled with these physical difficulties for the entire time I knew him, but he somehow managed to carry on with his life.  To me, that represents extraordinary courage and determination - those were two of his defining characteristics.  Matt was seriously dedicated to issues that involved people, as a geographer who felt compassion for others and sought to provide mechanisms to reach out and help those with physical handicaps in severe weather situations, even as he had to overcome so many physical problems himself.  His contributions to the University of Oklahoma in terms of storm preparedness were vastly out of proportion with his rewards - both financial and personal.  He was an avid storm chaser and participated in scientific field programs whenever given the opportunity - he supported the science with his full commitment to whatever missions he was given.  He was also a big fan of the Detroit Red Wings.

Matt was an opinionated, argumentative person, so naturally I was drawn to him - so much of what he said and stood for made perfect sense to me.  Of course, I didn't always agree with him about everything, so we argued frequently.  I don't believe he ever took this personally and he gave at least as much as he got.  I always respected what Matt had to say, even if I disagreed at times.  Sadly, Matt wasn't appreciated by academics and management because he spoke his mind clearly and with passion.  Most seemed ready to kick him under the proverbial bus rather than to provide him with opportunities and the means to contribute.  I was able to help Matt obtain his PhD in Geography after Matt had a stroke that left him with aphasia affecting his ability to speak and write his thoughts.  Think about how frustrating it would be to have thoughts but be unable to express them!  Nevertheless, I forced him to do as much as he could without my intervention, so he could feel he "owned" his dissertation.  I was so proud of him and pleased to see him conquer the process and his aphasia on the day he successfully defended his doctoral dissertation.  Unfortunately, even that achievement failed to win him much respect in the professional world.  We tried several times to get funding to do various interdisciplinary projects related to severe storm preparedness, but ... no luck.

Matt's PhD Advisory Committee after his successful dissertation defense

His life during the time I knew him seemed to be a constant roller-coaster ride.  Great joy and satisfaction with his successes, only to be laid low by one physical issue after another.  His greatest and most constant joy was his daughter, Faith, who is pretty and quite bright - she's always done well in school.  I know she looked up to Matt and did things to help him cope with the tough side of his life.  He simply adored her.

I regret not having spent more time with him.  I'm reminded of an occasion when I was chasing with Al Moller in Kansas.  Several of us, including Matt, converged on an Applebee's in Newton, KS for a late supper.  We all jabbered on for a long pleasant interlude before going our separate ways.  A happy memory.  It's also somehow comforting to know that despite all his difficulties, he was able to chase;  it was something he loved doing.

Occasionally, we'd get together for a beer and perhaps a meal, but in retrospect, I wish we had done so much more often.  Matt leaves behind many in the chasing community who held him in high esteem.  If the level of his professional support had been based on the admiration of his friends, he'd have been able to do great things.  His passing is far too soon but the challenges with his body he faced were too much even for his strong will.  Matt may never be cited very often in scholarly circles, but his spirit and his accomplishments live on in the hearts and minds of the many who knew and loved him.  He will be missed by a multitude.

My de facto brother, Bob Lundeen has died

Last night, we learned that my cousin, Robert Lundeen, died after a protracted battle with Alzheimer's Disease.  Bob was the big brother I never had.  To understand how this came about, I have to acknowledge that my mother and her younger sister, Frances Lundeen (Bob's mother), had a very special closeness.  Thus, it came to pass that I spent my summers on the farm of my Aunt Fran and Uncle Irving for many years.  I was treated just like their two boys, Harlan and Bob.  In addition to my idyllic summers on the farm, we visited them every Christmas, and they visited us most every Thanksgiving.  Their farm was about a 4-hour drive from our house, near Galesburg, IL.

Cousin Bob, in 1998.  That wry smile was a trademark of his.

Being a few years older than I, it was inevitable that I thought of Bob as a role model.  It was also inevitable that he would tease me without mercy.  That's what older brothers do, naturally.  There were times when his teasing would really make me upset, but I eventually learned that if I didn't show him I was upset, he'd quit - teasing's no fun if it has no impact.   That was when I sometimes referred to him as "Sweet Old Bob - or sometimes just the initials"!  Despite all the teasing, Bob was mostly pretty good to me and we did many fun things together, including him taking me to the drag races:  specifically, the World Series of Drag Racing at the dragstrip in Cordova, Illinois.

We had many hours together on the farm, so we sometimes did things that young boys do.  One time, we filled up a pipe welded closed at one end, used to pound metal fence posts into the ground, with about 50 large grasshoppers.  Bob's parents had left us alone on the farm - with Bob, that was an open invitation for boyish deviltry.  After filling the pipe, we threw in a "Silver Salute" firecracker (an M-80) that Bob had obtained somehow.  When it went off, a jet of flame and grasshopper parts sprayed out and splattered pieces of grasshopper all over the north exterior wall of their house.  The pipe itself contained a "soup" of grasshopper parts and the goo of grasshopper guts.  Blech!  I don't know if his parents ever discovered the evidence, which was gradually washed away by rainfall.  We didn't repeat the incident.

I'd already been leaning toward a career in meteorology, and Bob was destined to become a mechanical engineer.  During slack moments on the farm, we would talk about our dreams and hopes for the future.  Bob had a small mirror telescope and we would go out into a field in the evening and use the telescope to see Jupiter and Saturn and the Moon and nebulae and star clusters and so on.  On a warm Illinois evening in the summer, it was an inspirational trip to the planets and stars we made many times.  I always loved the night sky on the farm - the very little light pollution and virtually no haze made the dark sky pop!!  The typical summer rains in Illinois corn country are associated with nocturnal thunderstorms.  Many a night I was awakened, in the room Bob and I shared when I was there, by the thunder and lightning show.  My enjoyment of storms was a foreshadowing of my storm chasing hobby, as well as my career as a scientist.

Bob wanted to get away from the farm, whereas I felt it was a delightful vacation to be part of an American family farm enterprise.  I guessed eventually that living it constantly could give one a different perspective, as opposed to my occasional dabblings in family farm agriculture.  Bob helped me to see how someone might have a different point of view from my own.  He was teaching me a life lesson.  One of many.

When we had both grown up and established in our careers, Bob used to call me on the phone from Idaho and just wanted to talk, sometimes at great length.  I always was happy when he called and so I could hear about what was going on in his life, and share my experiences with him as an equal.  Bob's mechanical engineering career led him to work for the Navy in Idaho Falls; evidently associated with the nuclear machinery in a submarine.  His work was classified so he couldn't say much about it.    Vickie and I finally made it to Idaho Falls on a 2012 vacation trip out West, and it was great to visit with him in the Idaho home where he raised his two boys, Chris and Gregg.  Chris and his wife Cindy have been caring for Bob during the course of his battle with Alzheimer's.

I can't even begin to recount all the ways that Bob has influenced me in positive ways.  His passing leaves an unfillable hole in my life.  He is already profoundly missed.

My tribute to Dr. Edwin Kessler

Edwin Kessler came to be the first director of the National Severe Storms Laboratory (NSSL), when he was appointed to the posting by Robert Simpson in 1964.  He was a relatively young and inexperienced man for such a position, so for someone as distinguished as Robert Simpson (more well known for his work on tropical cyclones) to have such high confidence in him reflects his recognition as both a scientist and as a leader in the science of severe storms.  More information about the early history of NSSL can be found here and here.

I arrived in Norman in the fall of 1967 to begin my Master's degree studies with Dr. Yoshi K. Sasaki as my advisor.  This was during the time of the Vietnam war and shortly after beginning my grad work, the student deferment from military service was abolished for grad students and I became a prime candidate for the draft.  The Director of NSSL was impressive to me and Dr. Sasaki's support allowed me to add Dr. Kessler to my grad student advisory committee!!  I finished my M.Sc. in haste (3 semesters), owing to the imminent threat of being drafted.  Dr. Kessler asked some tough questions during my thesis defense in 1969, but I managed to pass it, and so began my Ph.D. studies the following semester.  I was drafted in the summer of 1969, while working as a student trainee at the National Severe Storms Forecast Center (NSSFC) in Kansas City (for the 3rd consecutive summer).  You can read about some of my military experiences here.

Upon returning to my graduate studies in 1972, Dr. Kessler remained on my committee to the end of my student days.  He was responsible for delaying the completion of my doctoral program,  noting that he felt I had not done enough to satisfy his high standards for a doctoral dissertation.  I can't say that the additional requirements made me happy, but in retrospect, it was not a completely unreasonable request.  At my dissertation defense, he was satisfied with what I had done and I was relieved to be finished.  It was during my time at NSSL that I got the idea for my dissertation research.

I note that after I returned to the pursuit of my doctorate, Dr. Sasaki was leaving OU for a year of sabbatical leave, and he informed me I had to find a way to support myself for the year he was going to be gone.  In this 'crisis' I turned to NSSL and Dr. Kessler for help.  I applied for a part-time NSSL position and had the benefit of a military "veteran's preference".  I was hired for 30 h per week in August of 1974, remaining there until I graduated.  My supervisor was Dr. Ron Alberty, but it's clear that my opportunity was supported by Dr. Kessler.  He supported many other students and early career scientists beside me, of course.

After working again in Kansas City in the Techniques Development Unit of NSSFC for six years, I moved to Boulder and worked with the Weather Research Program there for four years, led by Dr. Robert Maddox.  When Bob moved to Norman to be the new NSSL Director, following Ed's retirement, I followed Bob soon thereafter.  I finished my NOAA career there in 2001.

It was after I moved back to Norman in 1986, that my path was crossed again by Dr. Kessler, who was now retired but who was very active in politics as a champion of liberal, progressive ideals.  Thus, we shared the experience of "living blue in a red state".  Ed and I both were not pleased with commercial weather modification, so on one occasion, he and I were partners in challenging a weather mod operation in west Texas.  It was a slam dunk for us to show the locals what a sham the cloud seeding operation really was, so the county voted afterward to cease funding commercial cloud seeding operations.

Then came the fiasco associated with state support for building the so-called National Weather Center (NWC) to house most of the weather-associated organizations operating in Norman.  I won't say a lot about this, but more information can be found here.  Ed and I were on the same side, opposed to the process as a matter of principle.  It was rather ironic that his memorial service was held in the NWC atrium, since he had been so adamantly opposed to the process by which the state found the money to live up to their part of bargain between NOAA and the University of Oklahoma by robbing the oil storage tank cleanup fund.

Ed Kessler and I were not what I consider to be close friends, and I didn't always agree with his professional decisions as NSSL Director.  Nevertheless, I can without hesitation say that I admired his work as a scientist:  his work presented in the AMS Monograph "On the distribution and continuity of water substance in atmospheric circulations" is pure genius in its use of simple mathematical and numerical models to explore an apparently simple topic in great detail.  It's now out of print, but it contains the essence of the so-called "Kessler microphysical parameterization," the pure simplicity of which has led to its extensive use in numerical convective cloud simulations for decades.

Not being a radar specialist, I won't comment much about Ed's massive contributions to the operational implementation and research use of Doppler radars.  He probably would chafe at the title given to him posthumously by some as the "Father of Doppler Radar" - he readily acknowledged the valuable contributions by colleagues and would likely argue that Doppler Weather Radar as we know it is the child of many fathers, not just one man.

I'd be remiss in not acknowledging his support during the early days of scientific storm chasing (see here and here for my perspective on that early time in chasing).  Like most of the senior science staff at NSSL in that era, he was pretty skeptical about the value to science of chasing storms, but he nevertheless supported the project with real resources, without which the project might never have gotten started.

Thus, although not a close friend, Dr. Edwin Kessler was a person who played a significant role in shaping my life and my attitudes.  He was a mentor rather than a friend, and I always valued and respected his professional (and political) perspectives.  He was a generous man who made a positive difference in many lives and championed causes that have saved countless lives from severe weather events.  No doubt he leaves this world a better place for his time here.

My condolences to his family and close friends.  Many of us are grateful for their sharing of this great man.

A delayed tribute to Prof. Fred Sanders - friend and colleague

This tribute is not very timely.  Fred Sanders died on 06 October 2006.  This was a time before I was on Facebook and for some reason, I never wrote this.  I came to know Fred as an MIT meteorology professor, but meeting the man was even more impressive than his professional résumé would indicate.  Today it seems I must pay my respects to this great man by means of this medium.  Anyone interested in the weather as a professional meteorologist should recognize their debt to Fred, who bequeathed us a huge legacy of his synoptic scale research and even more importantly, his students (most of whom have gone on to make their own important research contributions).  That he was a great meteorologist cannot be doubted.  But I want to share some anecdotes about Fred the man I knew as a friend.  You can read his MIT obituary here for some of the details of his professional accomplishments.

 Fred Sanders on the occasion of the 10th Cyclone Workshop where he was an honoree for his lifetime achievements.

To the best of my recollection, my first meetings with Fred took place when I was working at the National Severe Storms Forecast Center in Kansas City, MO (the home of what is now the Storm Prediction Center in Norman, OK).  This was my first post-doctoral job, and the prospect of a visit by the great Fred Sanders would set the office abuzz with excitement.  From the start, it was obvious Fred was not someone who would suffer BS readily or willingly, so I was very excited to get to know him.  I don't recall the circumstances now, but sometime after we first met, he accepted my invitation to have dinner with me and my family in our home.  He was a wonderful guest, who deliberately avoiding talking meteorology with me, but rather engaged Vickie (my wife) in extended conversations.  I can still see him in my mind's eye in the dining room of our KC home.

To my surprise, Fred declined an opportunity to work alongside the Severe Local Storms (SELS) unit forecasters during a forecast shift, producing his own, independent forecast to be subjected to verification the next day.  It seemed to me that this would have been a chance to gain insight into the SELS operation, but he chose not to.  I never understood his reasons for that decision.  It was the one time I felt he dropped the ball.  The only reason I relate that anecdote is because it helps to make Fred a human being, not just a 1-dimensional, mythical icon in our profession. 

Some years later, when I had moved to Boulder, CO to work with Bob Maddox at the Weather Research Program there, Fred visited us in our Longmont, CO home.  Vickie and I had become friends with a couple who had lived next door to me when I first moved there (before my family left Kansas City to join me).  They were wonderful people, and it turned out that the wife (Billie) showed up at our home after dinner while Fred was still there.  Fred readily incorporated her in our conversations, naturally.  Afterwards, I asked her if she had any clue as to how famous and honored a man Fred was, and she was amazed to find that out.  Fred had charmed her (as he often did with people) without ever mentioning anything that would give her even a hint of his fame.  He was not at all about self-promotion!

Some years later, after I had followed Bob Maddox to the National Severe Storms Laboratory in Norman, OK, my colleague Harold Brooks and I traveled to the Washington DC area to attend a conference.  Harold and I chose to take a break from the conference in order to visit the Civil War battlefield at Mannassas, VA (known in the Union as the first Battle of Bull Run).  When Fred heard us talking about it, he asked to go along, and we readily granted his request - we looked forward to spending that time with him.  At the gate, the Park Service ranger was collecting our entrance fee, when she looked in the back seat of our car and saw Fred, recognizing him as a Senior Citizen - entitled to free entrance.  She said, "If he, as a senior citizen, claims you as part of his family, you all can get in free."  Fred quickly said we were, indeed, family members, so we (temporarily) became eligible for free entrance.  [I'm pretty sure the ranger understood the reality of the situation.]  I still enjoy telling that story by starting off with the claim that many people don't know I'm part of Fred Sanders' family!

Besides my admiration for Fred as a meteorologist, I valued his friendship even more.  Time with him was always well-spent!  His passing was a great shock to me, as it was to our whole scientific community.  Despite the passage of time, I still miss him terribly.  Having co-authored a scientific paper with Fred is still something in which I take a great deal of personal satisfaction.

My belated condolences to his family, close friends, and those students he mentored.  Fred was a unique individual who understood the importance of a connection between research and operations as well as any of us, and better than most of us.  I shared an interest in that connection and Fred no doubt was pleased to find any allies in fostering that interaction between operational and research meteorologists. 

A memorial tribute to my colleague and friend, Ron Pryzbylinski

This is more or less the text that eventually will appear in the Bulletin of the American Meteorological Society this coming June.  Thanks to the AMS for graciously granting me permission to post this ahead of its formal publication

 

This image is from the National Weather Service, St. Louis, MO.

The severe local storms community, including both research and operational meteorologists, lost one of its most distinguished members, Ron Przybylinski, on 12 March 2015. Ron passed away as a result of complications arising from treatments for cancer, which came as a terrible shock to everyone as he appeared to be recovering from his illness and was about his normal business at conferences and work until his untimely passing.

Ron was born in South Bend, Indiana, in 1953, and obtained his B.S. (1977) and M.S. (1981) degrees in meteorology from St. Louis University.  His full-time professional life began in 1981 when he joined the staff of the National Weather Service (NWS) office in Indianapolis, Indiana.  In 1991, Ron was selected for the position of science and operations officer at the St. Louis office of the NWS, which he held right up to his passing.  Although his service to those offices was at the highest levels, his influence and knowledge went well beyond them, spreading throughout the nation and the world through his publications and his many presentations.

Ron was a forecast meteorologist dedicated to the science of meteorology, applying scientific principles to his forecasts as well as contributing to that science by his research.  His primary interests were bow echoes and quasilinear convective systems (QLCSs), especially when those systems produced tornadoes.  Not only did he do the research, he served that science whenever the opportunity arose:  he was a project leader for the Operational Test and Evaluation of the new WSR-88D Doppler radars in the 1980s.  Ron also helped to organize (and participated in) the Bow Echo and Mesoscale Convective Vortex Experiment in 2003.  As part of the COMET Cooperative Project with Saint Louis University, he investigated severe wind gusts from convective systems, starting in 1994.  Ron also made time in his busy schedule to volunteer as a tornado damage investigator as a member of the NWS Quick Response Team.

In addition to numerous scientific publications and conference presentations, Ron served a term on the Severe Local Storms Committee of AMS, as well as two terms as a Councilor of the National Weather Association.  He was awarded the NWA Operational Achievement Award in 1989, and in 2003 he received the NWA’s Fujita Award for his research achievements.  The AMS awarded Ron the Charles L. Mitchell Award for outstanding service by a weather forecaster in 2012, and in 2013 he was recognized by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration with a Distinguished Career Award for his forecasting and research achievements.

Another important facet of Ron’s career was sharing his passion for storms.  It seemed he could always find time to talk at length with anyone who shared an interest in storms:  with youngsters, students and NWS interns, and his professional colleagues.  He helped to develop COMET training materials, particular those related to bow echoes and QLCSs, and shared his abundant experience and knowledge with many younger forecasters, helping them learn how to deal with diverse weather situations.  Ron’s infectious passion for storms was irresistible to those around him, inspiring everyone who knew him to work a bit harder and learn a bit more.  He had an engaging manner that endeared him to all his friends and colleagues, and he also had a delightful sense of humor.  Ron was a serious meteorologist, but he didn’t take himself too seriously.

Ron Pryzbylinski can never be replaced, but those of us who had the distinct pleasure of knowing Ron and working with him are grateful for the legacy of professional dedication and knowledge that he left us.  We miss him and would like to convey our deepest condolences to his family and close friends.

A memorial tribute to my friend and mentor, Yoshi Sasaki

 

I took this photo in his old office in the Engineering Laboratory across from the Union on the OU main campus.  This was in 1973, but he looked very much the same right up to the time of his death.

Today, I was informed that my friend and mentor, Yoshi K. Sasaki, died sometime this morning.  Many younger people at the OU School of Meteorology (OU-SoM) have little idea what a great meteorologist and person he was and how influential he has been.  He certainly was the advisor for the majority of doctoral students graduating from the OU-SoM during his active tenure there.  He won many OU and international awards for his work, including promoting US-Japan business collaboration, bringing Japanese companies to Norman.  He helped Walt Saucier found the Department of Meteorology when he came to OU with Walt from Texas A&M in the late 1950s.  I did an earlier tribute to Yoshi when he was still alive.

My first interactions with him were during my first days at OU as a beginning grad student in 1967.  In a stroke of stupendous good fortune, I was "assigned" to his care as my advisor.  I didn't know him at all, then.  Yet, shortly after I arrived, Dr. Ed Kessler (then Director of the National Severe Storms Laboratory [NSSL]) called Yoshi while I was in his office, and I heard Yoshi describing me to Dr. Kessler in glowing terms as an outstanding student!  That left me flabbergasted and determined that I would do whatever it took never to let him down.  He clearly had more confidence in me than I had in myself at the time.

This was at a time before Yoshi became famed for his work with variational data assimilation.  He had the time to be a great advisor and to do some excellent work as a classroom teacher.  It was in his graduate dynamics class that I began to gain some inkling of what the atmosphere was all about.  What soaring excitement there was in his classes, where putting in extra effort paid big dividends in terms of understanding.

It was clear that between us was a considerable cultural divide, but I never felt that it damaged our interactions.  He slapped me down when I was cocky, and he picked up my spirits when I felt overwhelmed and beaten down by the challenges.  In fact, he challenged me more than anyone to become what I wanted so much to be.  He looked at my lousy math grades when I first came to grad school and announced that I would minor in mathematics!  By colossal good luck, I took courses from some great math teachers as a result, flushing my math phobia down the toilet and replacing it with huge enthusiasm for a subject that had been so brutal for me.  He recommended I take rigorous courses in fluid dynamics from the School of Engineering, which again put me in classes with some outstanding teachers.  As a result of this, I went from being a so-so student to the point where I was "setting the curve" in most of my courses.

Following my sabbatical in the military, I returned to my graduate studies more determined to complete my doctorate than ever and, although Yoshi was now much busier than he had been owing to his rising fame, I was ready to become more independent - something Yoshi let happen.  He supported me with his grants as I flopped and floundered, trying to figure out a topic for my dissertation research.  When he went on a sabbatical to Monterey in 1974, he told me either I had to find a new advisor or find a way to support myself.  In no way did I want anyone else's signature on my dissertation, so I found employment at NSSL.  That turned out to be the change of venue I needed, and I eventually found my topic and completed my doctorate, with his signature on it!!

All that I have accomplished is in no small measure a tribute to this wonderful man, who did just whatever I needed, when I needed it.  He was a master at giving me just the help I required and not a bit more.  I graduated with a clear vision of what I wanted to do and how to do it.  That's worth considerably more than a piece of paper!!

I could go on and on about his accomplishments, and the friendship he has offered to me after graduation.  I'm reminded today of his comments to me at the time when his university mentor, the late Shigekata Syono (who was also the advisor of the late T. Theodore Fujita) had died:  he told me that Syono told him the best way to thank your advisor for what he did for you was to become successful in your field, and to pass on what you have learned to others.  Yoshi was trying to honor that advice, and  I've tried to honor it, as well.  It was so typical of him to have deep human insight as well as a great intellect - no cultural barrier could inhibit that!

As we mourn the loss of this honored individual, we can take solace that he's left behind a huge legacy:  I can mention a few names of his doctoral students from around the time when I was a student - Dr. E. W. (Joe) Friday [a National Weather Service Director], Dr. Robert Sheets [a Hurricane Center Director], Dr. Stanley L. Barnes [NOAA research scientist], Dr. Jerome P. Charba [NWS research scientist], Dr. John McGinley [NOAA research scientist], Dr. John M. Lewis [NOAA research scientist], and many others.  Obviously, this list leaves out many who were influenced by Yoshi, including many of my storm chase friends (e.g., Al Moller).  He will not be forgotten and can never be replaced.  We will miss him, but are proud to have been a part of his legacy.  My deepest condolences to Koko, his wife, and sons Larry, James, and Okko, and daughter Anna.

That very rare commodity-a manager who was a real leader: Ken Crawford

 I don't know the date of this photo, but Ken was a lifelong fan of the UT Longhorns.   Despite that character flaw, Ken Crawford was a great person!

I first met Ken Crawford when he was a forecaster in the Fort Worth, TX, Weather Forecast Office (WFO), thanks to my late friend and colleague, Al Moller.  Ken then moved to Slidell, LA, as a deputy station chief (Deputy Meteorologist-In-Charge); then he became MIC at the Oklahoma City (OKC) Office, and was still there as the MIC when the office moved to Norman (OUN).  Subsequently, he left the NWS and became a Professor of Meteorology at OU.  At the end of his career, he left the university to be involved with the Korea's national weather service.  I've made some short FB posts about this, but this blog gives me a chance to be somewhat more complete.  On 23 July 2014, yet another friend and colleague of mine - Dr. Ken Crawford - died.  It seems 2014's toll on my friends and family continues.

Although I met him many years earlier, it was when the OKC office moved to OUN (and I followed not long after, when Dr. Bob Maddox became NSSL's Director), that my interactions with Ken really developed significantly for me.  Bob and I talked many times about our professional relationship with the Norman WFO across the street from our building on OU's North Campus.  We agreed on what to do and so convinced Ken that it would be a good thing if a research meteorologist from NSSL had an office in the OUN WFO.  Ken embraced the idea from the start, of course.  I was duly ensconced in the OUN WFO and, although as a non-NWS employee I wasn't authorized to issue forecasts, I had daily interactions with the staff.  Not only could I get to know and observe the people who actually made the local forecasts, but I could observe the office dynamics.  Those were some wonderful years for me and perhaps I might tell that story someday, but not now.

What I saw in Ken as the station chief was something I'd never encountered from a manager before.  Let me illustrate that with an anecdote:  When I would talk with "outside" people about the great things happening at the OUN WFO, they'd typically say something like, "Well, Ken Crawford has assembled a team of superstars there.  What else did you expect?"  The thing was, the group of people at the OUN WFO was, at that time, the same team (except for two people who were induced to leave the office) he'd inherited from the previous MIC.  Under the previous MIC, the office had been pretty low on the respect bar and Ken had effectively transformed the staff, but used the same people!!

How did he accomplish this?  Ken always operated under the principle that he would not be successful as a manager if his staff was not successful in their endeavors.  He understood that the people working for him aren't identical robots - they're individuals with particular strengths and weaknesses, so the idea is to use their strengths to contribute to the success of the office and to encourage them to improve in areas where they're weak.  Everyone was made to feel like an important member of the team.  And so the office prospered, even as his staff prospered (including winning various awards and kudos for their performance).  Ken always was supportive of his staff and was willing to "buck the system" should the need arise to help his office be successful.  I'm pretty confident that most, if not all of them, would have followed Ken wherever he led them, because it was clear that he reciprocated that respect.  How rare that perspective seems to be!  What a shame it's so rare - but Ken showed me by his actions how a good manager of people needs to operate.

When I was working in that WFO office of mine, one day it dawned on me that the 35 or so NSSL mesonetwork sites were just rusting away in a warehouse, and that they might be installed as a permanent mesonet for the benefit of the WFO operations.  When I brought up my idea to Ken, he then told me of his dream for a statewide mesonet that would have at least one station is every Oklahoma county!!  I was floored, but quickly discarded my own paltry idea to get behind Ken's Mesonet project.  He honored me by inviting my participation in the Mesonet Advisory Committee, a story all on its own and a time when I was very excited about what we were creating:  the Oklahoma Mesonet.  Circumstances forced me to give up my participation, but I'm very proud of what we set into motion on its way to becoming a reality.

When Ken became a faculty member, I had the opportunity to be a member of some of his grad student advisory committees.  I wasn't surprised to see the same overriding concern Ken showed to help those under his supervision to become successful.   Ken was an excellent meteorologist, above all, and that showed in his teaching.  Complex topics made sense when Ken explained them!  And he sought to challenge students to improve in their weak areas, even as they used their strengths - a familiar theme, implemented in a new context.  The panoply of his successful graduates is powerful testimony to the acuity of his vision for what he should do to be successful himself.

His death leaves a hole in our weather community that can't ever be filled, to say nothing of the loss felt by his close friends and family.  Yet, those of us who mourn his passing are supported by the gratitude we feel for having been his friend and colleague, or family member.  Ken was a very, very special person, who leaves us the gift of his presence and the inheritance of his achievements.  It's selfish to dwell on our grief over his absence - he'd want us to move on, capitalizing on what we do well and seeking to improve on what we do poorly, as he showed so many of us how to do in so many ways.

The passing of Alan R. Moller

One of my favorite photos of Al, with me in the Fort Worth office of the NWS, showing the Pampa, TX tornado of 08 June 1995, one of our best chases together -- photo by Sam Barricklow
 
Today, I woke up to the awful news of the death of my long-time chase partner, friend, and colleague, Alan R. Moller.  He finally succumbed to early-onset Alzheimer's, taken from us years before his body finally died by that cruel affliction.  Seeing his razor-sharp mind and amazing memory stolen from him slowly was difficult to endure:  among his last words to me were:  "Do I know you?"  When I told him we'd been friends for more than 40 years, he said "That's amazing."  I realized then that the man I knew was gone, and the end of his body was inevitable.  I just couldn't endure seeing him that way again.  It was too much for me to take.  My deepest gratitude to his DFW-area friends:  Sam Barricklow, Carson Eads, Tim Marshall, Ed Cohen, and others.  They visited him and helped to brighten his days as the end drew near.

Fortunately, I have the memories of that long-enduring friendship, beginning in 1972, to cherish.  The Al Moller I knew was a wonderfully complex person, with an inquisitive, deeply-probing mind, a high-powered thinker on many topics, a person who willingly gave of his time and resources to anyone and everyone who needed them, something of a volatile temper, a wry sense of humor, often impatient but very devoted to his passions: forecasting, storm chasing, drag racing, western art, blues music, photography, and so on.   Fortunately, I got the benefit from the extended time spent with him during our chase expeditions.  I treasure that time, now. It's how I want to remember him.

When it came to his passions, Al could be very outspoken.  This was something of a problem for his efforts to climb the career ladder, but he never, ever sacrificed his principles in order to avoid ruffling bureaucratic feathers.  He didn't suffer incompetence or stupidity very willingly.  He stayed an idealist all his life.

Anyone lucky enough to have attended one of his public presentations was in for a real treat.  At the end of the formal scientific presentation, he would often put on a "bonus" slide show of his favorite images.  Not just storms, but photographs of wildflowers, mountain scenery, fall foliage, ... any outdoor landscape he might encounter on his journeys.  With each new image on the screen, there would be a moment of stunned silence, followed by a collective sharp intake of breath - the actual definition of what it means to be "breathtaking".  His slide shows were famous, and more than worthy of that involuntary reaction.  And it wasn't a case of Al bragging about his great photographs, either - he simply wanted to share the beauty he saw with others.  No, those slide shows weren't showing off, but passing on the marvelous moments he'd been able to capture.  Chasing with Al made me a much better photographer, as a by-product, but he was always the master.

When we chased together, it wasn't uncommon for us to get into loud, vigorous arguments - shouting matches, more or less.  These never even came close to becoming a cause for us to give up our friendship.  We both were stubborn, opinionated people, but with a deep mutual respect for each other.  I appreciated that Al wouldn't hesitate to catch me up if he thought I'd said something stupid or incorrect.  These arguments never detracted from the fun we had chasing together - chasing with Al was something I looked forward to during the time of our chasing partnership.  Eventually, the time came to end that part of our relationship, but it's something I enjoyed tremendously while it endured!

Al also had a passion for public service, as well as for forecasting and severe storms.  This he discussed with me during our chases together.  He was profoundly committed to that, doing spotter training talks all over north TX and elsewhere - the best spotter training anyone could have asked for, dispensed with his unique style and panache.  It was from him that I learned that a good forecast/warning wasn't the end of the story.  There was much that had to happen after a weather forecast product left the forecast office, and Al was unshakably determined to do whatever he could to make those things happen.  Al cared about people ... all people ... and did whatever it took to help them, if they needed something.

I'm proud to have known Al - he helped me, too, in many ways. His passing leaves a hole that can never be filled, but he gave us all so much - a legacy any man would be proud of, at the end.  His contributions go far beyond those he touched personally - people who never knew Al, but have benefited from his huge legacy without knowing from whom the benefit originated.

Tribute to Liz Quoetone

Today, on the 89th anniversary of the deadliest tornado in US history, a friend and colleague - Liz Quoetone - succumbed to cancer.  Her passing seems sudden and shocking to those of us who knew and admired her.  Liz was the embodiment of service to our profession of meteorology, and affected the lives of many, many people in a positive way.  She was a person passionately devoted to training operational meteorologists how to deal effectively with severe weather and has, no doubt, indirectly saved many lives as a result of her training.  Moreover, Liz was a deep thinker, who could cut to the heart of the issues of effective operations, and proposed innovative new approaches to operations that made use of the latest research.  Whenever she spoke on the subject, it was wise to shut up and listen!  

All of her huge professional contributions aside for the moment, Liz was a delightful person to be around.  She seemed always to be upbeat and looking forward to her next opportunity to enhance someone else's life.  Which she did frequently.  With the news of her passing, my biggest regret is missed opportunities to tell her how much I appreciated what she was doing and how impressed I was with her accomplishments.  And simply to say that it was a pleasure to be in her presence.  If we all could try to say occasionally what positive things we think about our friends and colleagues, the world would be a better place.

Liz Quoetone leaves this world a much better place for her having been with us.  May her close friends and family be able to take some solace from that.  They have my sincere condolences.

Thoughts on the passing of Nelson Mandela

Listening to the many tributes to Nelson Mandela today, following his death at age 95, I was reminded of how fortunate the world has been to have been blessed with such an amazing human being.  After being imprisoned for 27 years, this man somehow came to the realization that he would never be free if he continued to hate his oppressors.  So he had the wisdom to let his hate go, and when he re-created a new nation on the rubble of apartheid, it was not a nation soaked with the blood of violent retribution.  Rather, it became a nation where his former enemies could go about their lives without the fear and oppression that Nelson Mandela lived with under apartheid.  It was not to be tit-for-tat!  The depth of the humanity within this man is beyond words!  His example is one of the all-too-few shining moments for the human race in the 20th century.

Mandela's deep understanding of humanity and his unshakeable morality gave him the moral high ground and he wielded the power of that moral authority to the benefit of all, even long before he was even released from prison!  He used but never abused the power he had - after all, moral authority is only powerful from the high ground.  Stoop to the level of your enemy and your power is forfeit.  And he never sought to retain power, giving up his Presidency after but one term.  This is a lesson our US government has yet to learn!

There's another such towering figure in our history - Martin Luther King - another deeply human person who also happened to be black.  Alas, unlike Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King was taken from us long before his time.  Nevertheless, in the time he had, he revealed the shining light of freedom and love for all humans and that vision can never be forgotten.  That we lost him too soon is tragic, but at least he left an enduring legacy that any reasonable human should be proud to inherit.

Sadly, despite such examples (and there are others, of course), the poisonous influence of racism and bigotry still lingers in this world and in this nation, which is supposed to be dedicated to the proposition that all people should be offered equal opportunity.  We Americans have yet to achieve this noble ideal, and it may be a long time in becoming a reality, if ever.  But it's through such people as Martin Luther King that we've been able to make whatever progress we've achieved to date.

Therefore, it's appropriate to consider how many such men and women, who had great gifts they could have shared with us all, have been oppressed and snuffed out before they had a chance to share their insights and humanity with us all.  What bright lights were extinguished under the bushel of racism and bigotry before they were allowed to shine for all of us?  What men and women around the world have never been given the chance to prosper and find their opportunity to share their insights and wisdom with the world?  Racism, religious bigotry, misogyny are all excuses to oppress and silence their voices, to hide their lights, to keep them from achieving their potential.  How many such souls have been trodden into dust without giving this world the benefit of having known them?

Racism, bigotry, misogyny - these are lies that cannot withstand even the slightest touch of rationality.  They're irrational concepts, they're baseless fallacies used by pathetic weaklings to make themselves feel superior despite their obvious recognition of their own inferiority.  It's just not possible to raise yourself by taking others down.  These are human weaknesses that must be repudiated and not allowed to have the power to oppress.  A sense of justice demands it.  And it's in our Constitution!

Think of the Anne Franks of the world, snuffed out by evil people in their pathetic but ruthless lust for power.  How many nameless, faceless people have died in conflicts, been slaughtered in pogroms and tribal massacres, in pointless wars - all without ever achieving the prominence they might have deserved.  How many people crammed into hopeless ghettos with limited opportunity have never been granted a chance to share with us their great gifts?  What things might we now understand that we could have learned from them?  What scientific knowledge would now be benefiting the world, had they been given voice?  What profound works of art might we have to share, had they been allowed to achieve?

What have we lost?  What could possibly have been worth the price we've paid for our racism and bigotry?  Can we never get to the point where we can work together for the common good, rather than being ruled by our primitive tribalism and barbarism?  Perhaps we can achieve this ideal only with the help of some truly great people we've so far been willing to stomp into silence and anonymity.  Let these people live and prosper!!

My tribute to ShockNet Radio and RJ Evans

As we come to the end of ShockNet Radio on 29 November, there's a great deal of sadness associated with its going off the "air" (it's been on Internet radio, not terrestrial, broadcast radio) on the part of the folks associated with it.  Nevertheless, this experiment in Internet Radio hasn't been a failure.  Not even close.  Rather, it represents a significant accomplishment by my friend, RJ Evans.

Classic image of RJ.  He enjoys flaunting his "persona" of a bad-ass motherf---r, but he has a heart of gold, a generous spirit, a first-class mind, and a heap of creative talent.

My friendship with RJ began before my first experience with ShockNet Radio, which came when Gene Rhoden asked me to be on the first episode of his show "High Instability".  I wasn't very sure I wanted to do the show, but I went ahead, and in doing so, I figured out what Gene was trying to do with his program, so I willingly became a regular participant.  This gave me more opportunities to interact with RJ and learn more about what he was trying to accomplish with ShockNet Radio.  When RJ asked me to participate in "American Heathen", I decided I'd give it a try, and things kinda went crazy from there.  I enjoyed being part of the show, a lot!  And we had our devoted followers, small in number though they were.  RJ asked me if I wanted to do a show entirely on my own, and I decided I wanted to act as DJ on a program totally devoted to blues music.

In working with RJ, it became clear that he has a very creative mind (with a healthy sense of humor), and it was both easy and fun to work with him as we began to work out the details of my vision of the show.  Since I had little or no experience of my own, I willingly deferred to RJ on most of his suggestions, but he also respected my general hopes for the program that became "Hard Luck Chuck's Juke Joint".  And as the show began, he patiently put up with my fumbling efforts to be a competent DJ, correcting my mistakes and offering me suggestions for improvements.  He's a good teacher and things began to get easier.  As the program comes to an end with the demise of ShockNet Radio, I can safely say I'm satisfied with what I was able to accomplish with my show, largely thanks to RJ's efforts.

An unexpected benefit was the people I met as a result of being associated with ShockNet Radio.  My ShockNet colleagues are some amazing people from whom I've learned a lot.  And some of our fans have become friends, despite having not yet met physically.  Although it doesn't show up in the profit/loss column, the friendships I've made through ShockNet are pretty damned valuable to me!

Many people dislike RJ for his outspoken atheism.  That's their loss, in my view.  RJ actually is not at all what his outward appearance might suggest – folks should remember not to judge the book by its cover!  He's really a very empathetic, kind person, who never misses a chance to help someone if he can.  He'd do anything for his friends if they ask.  And he's very patient with new acquaintances, regardless of their beliefs.  He really supports the American Heathen slogan of "Freedom and Liberty for ALL!". 

By what metric do you judge a person’s "success"?  And how appropriate is it for you to judge someone else's success by your choice of a measure?  I’ve known RJ long enough to see how much he's accomplished that wouldn't show up in what most people use to judge success – money, fame, and such.  His accomplishments are on a human scale, one person at a time.  Those of us who've spent enough time with him can see that.  He doesn't have many friends, but we're committed friends because we see he's a wonderful human being.  He'll be there if you need him – of that there can be no doubt.  Yes, he has little patience for certain types of foolishness – for the most part, I share those intolerances with him.  But he respects everyone's right to an opinion, no matter how silly or irrational.

ShockNet Radio was a dismal failure by the standards of those who admire the typically phony world of "big time" media.  But if you consider what ShockNet Radio has accomplished, one person at a time, as I've seen it happen, then you realize ShockNet has been a huge success.  RJ has stayed true to his vision and has touched many lives in a positive way with his efforts.  I call that a significant achievement.  And I don't give a shit what you think, if you can't see that.

Who is this for?

As I contemplate writing this tribute, I can't seem to figure out to whom it's dedicated.  I just watched a recorded version of a program about the blues, hosted by Morgan Freeman (one of my favorite actors).  What it brings to mind is a night that will live in my memory so long as I retain the ability to recall things - a night spent at Buddy Guy's club in Chicago.  We had been there to participate in the annual program about storms, storm chasing, and storm spotting put on by my friend Paul Sirvatka from the College of Dupage.  I go to this whenever Paul invites me because - because I grew up there, because Paul is my friend, and because the blues clubs in Chicago are second to none.

Buddy Guy, performing.  I've been to a few concerts where he was playing and despite his age, he still performs with enormous energy and enjoys interacting with people in the audience.

We had gone to Buddy Guy's club Legends because (a) I absolutely think Buddy Guy is fantastic, (b) Coco Montoya was playing there that night, and (c) what more do I need to say?  It was a great night and I was with my friend Al Moller, who has been a huge influence on me in so many ways, including my love for the blues.  The warmup act was - mediocre - and they had finished playing but the headline act (Coco Montoya), was not yet onstage.

I don't recall the details, but suddenly, I hear Al calling me.  "Chuck, come here!  It's fucking Buddy Guy!"  I needed no further motivation.  I went to where he was yelling, and lo and behold, it was indeed Buddy Guy!  I felt like a stupid kid - just what do you say to someone who is truly a living legend?  I mumbled something about loving his work - no doubt it was pathetic - and shook the hand of the great man.  I don't even recall what he said, but I'm sure it was something nice.  I've been in a somewhat similar position and the adoration is kind of embarrassing.  But I just couldn't help myself.  I was just another of his many adoring fans.

I remember asking him if he was going to perform.  No, he said, but he was looking forward to Coco Montoya's performance.   And indeed it wound up being a memorable performance.  There's nothing like the relationship between a great blues musician and his audience!  You just can't capture that in a studio.

I enjoyed this TV presentation of the blues, though it was the usual TV treatment:  mostly superficial and far less that what the topic deserves.  The blues is a great, uniquely American idiom, contributed by the African-American segment of our population and largely unrecognized and unappreciated by white America until the British re-introduced it to us in the 1960s.  The blues musicians were exploited by the music industry.  It's only lately that we've discovered the geniuses in our midst and given them some small recognition for the immensity of their contributions.  No doubt racism is at the heart of this long-delayed recognition, but the fact that people are now willing to accept the importance of the blues in our musical world is at least an encouraging sign of the eventual demise of the scourge of racism.

But seeing Buddy Guy in this TV program made me think of my friend, Al Moller, as well.  In many ways, my long friendship with Al puts me in a better position than I was in with Buddy Guy that night.  I've known Al since 1972, and we have had many adventures together, as well as many shared experiences (not limited to storm chasing!).  I feel more comfortable around Al.  I have the benefit of those years of friendship with a great man.

I wonder what it might be like to be Buddy Guy's long-time friend.  Alas, that's something I'll never be able to know.  What sort of person would I think Buddy Guy is?  If I judge by his music, I think we could be friends - but how meaningful is my response to his music?  Is his creative work indicative of what sort of person he is?  When it comes to it, does my professional work indicate what sort of person I am?  When I think about the work of Al Moller, I see him and his professional work inexorably intertwined.  I see the connections between Al the man, and Al the professional weather forecaster.  I know of the passion that drove his work and which manifested itself in so many ways in his life, including his incredible photography.  I see those connections because I've known Al for so long.

This all forces me to believe that if I had been Buddy Guy's friend for as long as I've known Al, I think his work reflects his passions in a similar way.  Ultimately, we may share that connection, whether we are close friends or not.  Is this essay about Al Moller, or is it about Buddy Guy?  Or is it simply another piece in my lifelong struggle to understand myself?  Sorry - I can't answer that.  But I'm grateful for my friends, and I'm grateful for the joy music gives me.

A tribute to Nancy Knight

       Dr. Nancy Knight with an egg and the famous Coffeyville, KS, world record hailstone.

Today I learned the sad news that my friend and colleague, Dr. Nancy Knight died on 26 June. Nancy spent her career studying hail alongside her husband, Charlie, at the National Center for Atmospheric Reseach in Boulder, CO. Her body of work is large and very meaningful, quite evidently a labor of love reflecting a lifelong fascination with the topic of her studies. Nancy Knight was one of the world's leading hail scientists and that simple statement needs no embellishment or clarification. When I first met her, while I was a graduate student at OU, she was pioneering the use of storm chasing in hail research, driving a specially-designed hail collection vehicle into hail shafts. I instantly fell in love with her!! How could anyone not like someone so evidently enthusiastic as to drive deliberately into hail shafts?

With time, I came to know more about Nancy and her husband and their research. They made a great team, but make no mistake -- Nancy was not riding on Charlie's coattails!! She was fiercely independent and that was another trait I found endearing. But she was also gentle and thoughtful of others when the occasion warranted it. Nancy was unselfconsciously kind and caring, although this side of her personality might not always reveal itself. My wife and I had occasion to see it from time to time. Nancy was the sort of person who could make friends quickly because she was an open book -- no one had to struggle to know what she thought about something. Yet another endearing trait!

Although all of us who knew her will miss her terribly, the fact is that she leaves this world a much better place for her having been with us for a time. I'm very grateful to have been her friend and I treasure her memory. Her scientific legacy will live on, of course. I know she was an inspiration to many young scientists, perhaps especially so to aspiring young women for whom role models historically have been scarce.

My deepest condolences go to Charlie in his grief over his loss. I trust he knows what a blessing it was to have shared this life with Nancy. My sincere thanks to Charlie for sharing Nancy and her irrepressible spirit with the rest of us!!

A tribute to Charlie Chappell

Charlie Chappell when he was a lead forecaster in SELS.  He taught me his methods of surface analysis in my years there as a student trainee.  This was shot in the mid-1960s, when Don House was the Director of SELS.

This is not the first time I've posted about the incredible gift of friendship. It likely won't be the last. Last Tuesday evening, my friend Charles (Charlie) F. Chappell died. Unfortunately, it's an example of an opportunity I missed - to thank Charlie for the inspiration he provided me during the occasions we spent time together. Fortunately, my friend Mike Fritsch expressed his gratitude to Charlie for all that he gave to Mike in a very eloquent way in a letter before Charlie died. Mike has been an inspiration to me, in no small measure because he has done so much with the opportunities he was given. Mike is a brilliant meteorologist and was no doubt a source of great pride for Charlie. Charlie managed to inspire (directly or indirectly) five people who have received the Clarence Leroy Meisinger Award from the American Meteorological Society: Mike Fritsch, Bob Maddox, Da Lin Zhang, Dave Stensrud, and George Bryan. This is an amazing achievement for an amazing man. If you know these people, you must realize how important Charlie's legacy is! These people represent what Charlie was about - dedication to advancing our understanding of the science - and who have used what they were given to advance everyone's understanding. I'm proud to say I'm friends with all of them!

Mike Fritsch is an amazing man in his own rights, as is another "hero" of mine, Bob Maddox. Charlie inspired many of us, indirectly or directly, to achievements of substance. And it's been my privilege to know and admire many such people in my profession. I've known some amazing colleagues (living and dead) who have influenced me to achieve well beyond my own meager capabilities: Bob Maddox, Mike Fritsh, Fernando Caracena, Charlie Chappell, Fernando Caracena, Stan Barnes, Harold Brooks, Chad Shafer, Alan Moller, Ronnie Alberty, Yoshi Sasaki, Walt Saucier, Dave Barber, Barry Schwartz, Werner Schwerdtfeger ... the list is long and I have left out some here who certainly deserve recognition.

I often have said that the biggest regrets in my life are sins of omission: not having expressed my thanks to those who have helped me become what I wanted to be. Charlie Chappell's recent passing is one that bothers me because I never took the time to tell him how much he meant to me. For your own sake, please take that time to say "Thank You!" to those who played a positive role in your life. It probably means more to you than it does to them - they have been rewarded with seeing your success, whether you said anything or not. But to have expressed your gratitude helps a great deal when they've passed beyond your gratitude. Take the time now, while the opportunity still exists! Friendship with inspirational friends is important. Be grateful for it, as friendships inevitably end even as we live on.

Another great man passes ...

A sort of formal portrait of Walt.  He wore that gray suit a lot and his expression here reveals a mischievous smile that was seen often.

Today, I learned of the death of Prof. Walter J. Saucier - his obituary is all too brief, and doesn't begin to touch on the tremendous impact he has had on so many of us. I mentioned him here as one of those who were most influential on my career. Walt was an uncomproming scientist, who never let misconceptions and misstatements go unchallenged. He was an educator of the highest rank, who was more concerned with being an educator than he was with advancing his career. He founded 3 different meteorology programs (at Texas A&M, University of Oklahoma, and North Carolina State University).

But the very traits that made Walt such a compelling role model for me also served him poorly at the level of university bureaucrats. By not suffering foolishness gladly (or silently), he got into trouble with the coneheads and by not participating in the gamesmanship of being a university professor, he didn't have all his boxes checked when he was challenged by those bureaucrats. He was still bitter about what happened to him here at OU (leading to his departure to North Carolina) when I saw him at the 25th anniversary of the OU Meteorology department. I very much hope he gave up most of that bitterness in his final years, as the 50th anniversary looms on the horizon this year (2010) - it made me sad to see him still so unhappy about what happened.

Walt was a great teacher, who was so entertaining in the classroom, you had to discipline yourself not to be distracted by his delivery. The content of his lectures was thick with profound understanding and he conveyed it without any hint of ego, but rather with great enthusiasm. I feel sorry for anyone who may have read his textbook (Principles of Meteorological Analysis) without having also heard him lecture.

But he was much more than a teacher. Among other things, he was a great cook (appropriate, given his surname) and a great host at parties. Walt liked good food and drink, and enjoyed sharing his likes, even with lowly graduate students. And he was a good friend, who always wanted to discuss new ideas about kinematic analysis - one of his favorite topics.

For those of us he has left behind, we will always have the benefit of his tremendous professional legacy: the students he influenced and his incredible textbook. Our time with him was an enormous blessing. I offer my deepest sympathies to his family in their loss and want to let them know how much he meant to many, many people - we thank you for sharing him with us.