Follow Texas’ Storm Chasers into the Eye of a Tornado

By theadmin

Ed Grubb should have been in the car the day storm chasers Carl Young, Tim Samaras, and Tim’s son Paul went to test a Category 3 tornado near El Reno, Oklahoma, on May 31, 2013. But May 31 was Grubb’s daughter’s birthday; and while Young and Samaras rode out on an expedition to film lightning with slow-motion cameras and potentially deploy atmospheric pressure probes in the path of large twisters, the veteran storm chaser remained back in Colorado to spend time with his daughter.

It was a fateful decision. That tornado took the lives of Young and the Samarases, as well as five other lives in Oklahoma, that day. The blow was all the more devastating since the El Reno tornado came on the heels of an even stronger tornado, a Category 5 that ripped through Moore, Oklahoma, 11 days earlier, killing 24 people and causing more than $2 billion in damage.

Together, the tornadoes offered a chilling reminder that even the most seasoned and experienced storm chasers, who pursue tornadoes in the name of scientific research, sometimes can’t protect themselves from some of the most powerful, destructive, and deadly natural forces known to man.

Eye on the Sky

Grubb, who grew up in Texas and Oklahoma, began chasing storms decades before the hobby became popularized through hit Hollywood movies like Twister (1996) or the Discovery Channel show Storm Chasers. Back in 1974, when he first packed his car with photography equipment and headed out in pursuit of a tornado, Grubb was a young student of petroleum geology whose childhood fascination with powerful weather had left him with an aching desire to see the natural phenomena firsthand.

During the relatively frequent tornado events of Grubb’s childhood in Oklahoma City, his mother would whisk him and his brother away to a neighbor’s storm shelter, where they would wait out the storm underground.

“I never got to see what I really wanted to see, which was a tornado,” Grubb says.

After the petroleum industry downsized in the late-1980s, and Grubb found himself looking for a new career, he worked as a facilities manager and safety officer at a local metro school district. Meanwhile, he was taking meteorology classes at Metropolitan State University in Denver and devoting more time to chasing and photographing storms. In the early days, there were only a handful of storm chasers wandering the flat American Plains, equipped with radios and weather scanners.

Over time, however, storm chasing has become a popular hobby, with dozens of amateurs, wannabes, and group tours tracking every twister with cell phones in hand, trying to hunt down the next thrill of a lifetime. Grubb says these days, in addition to the storms themselves, the dangers of storm chasing include traffic, distracted driving, and reckless amateur mistakes.

photo by Ed Grubb

Lives on the Line

From the folkloric winds that cowboy Pecos Bill rode to the twister that lifted Dorothy and placed her down in the magical land of Oz, tornadoes have long exercised a powerful hold on the American imagination. Storm chasers participate in that tradition. They are part extreme thrill-seekers, part frontline scientific researchers. Their work is about more than getting a wild video that will score thousands of views on YouTube.

Over the years, storm chasers have been gathering data and research that have helped meteorologists learn how to better predict tornadoes. They also spot tornadoes coming and pass on information to local emergency networks to help protect communities that lie in their path.

“It used to be that people didn’t get five to six minutes of warning time,” Grubb says. “But now, because of all the research, we have a warning of 15 to 20 minutes.” That means that often, cities and communities in danger have more time to prepare, evacuate, or at least seek shelter.

“Once the chasers are out there, they can then file reports through an app called Spotter Network or directly with the National Weather Service,” Grubb says. “I’ve done 911 several times.”

Grubb’s videos and photography can now be seen on major news networks and TV stations, as well as in magazines.

storm chasers

Safety in Numbers

Even with their reputation of being reckless thrill-seekers, all good storm chasers are experts in staying safe. With 40 years of storm chasing under his belt, Grubb knows what to do to stay as safe as possible while in pursuit of dangerous weather.

“I don’t like to approach a storm and do a core punch, which is when you go through the middle of the storm to get to the quadrant where the tornadoes form,” Grubb says, adding that it is as important to stay safe by relying on observation and experience as it is to use new technologies.

“The laptop computers with the apps and radar, those all can lag information by about six to seven minutes. A lot can happen to you in six to seven minutes.”

Grubb says he likes to stay out in front of the storm and tries to get to storm sites early. And it is useful to chase with a partner, who can keep a lookout for rogue tornadoes and reckless drivers alike. His third rule: Always have an exit plan.

“Generally, I don’t like to get up really close, unless I’m doing the research part of it — then there is a reason for it,” Grubb says. “But [not] just to shoot video.”

Recovery and Loss

As the deaths of Grubb’s friends demonstrate all too well, even the most experienced and knowledgeable storm chasers still put their lives on the line. After the loss of Carl Young and Tim and Paul Samaras, it took some time for Grubb to get back on the road in pursuit of big storms.

“With their passing, the passion the following year wasn’t there,” Grubb says.

Yet, in June 2014, he found himself in Stanton, Nebraska, on a gray and drizzly day, one eye locked to the Doppler radar readings, one eye on the sky.

Grubb was chasing a storm that day with a Dallas writer named Brantley Hargrove, who was researching a book about Tim Samaras. Then it happened. A huge, thick glob of cloud pressed down from the overcast sky, and a wispy gray finger reached down to touch the surface of the earth. In an instant, the sky transformed into a whirling mass of power and chaos, framed by flashes of lightning. It was the writer’s first time seeing a tornado, and the moment offered everything in the experience that drives storm chasers to the front lines of powerful, destructive storms.

“We were four-, five-tenths of a mile away,” Grubb remembers. “You could hear it and smell the corn and the dirt. After it was all over with, I looked at [Hargrove] and said, “It has taken me well over 40 years to see what you saw on your first shot.”