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|    Message 93 of 1,586    |
|    Roger Nelson to All    |
|    A Story from the Tornado Zone    |
|    06 May 11 17:21:10    |
      A Story from the Tornado Zone               Editor's Note:On Wednesday, April 27th, Science@NASA writer Dauna Coulter       found herself near ground zero as a super-outbreak of tornadoes ripped through       North Alabama. This is the story about the science of the event she wrote and       submitted from within the disaster zone.               April 27, 2011: Tornado sirens wailed all day long. They'd sound off and then       wind down for a little while, only to start up again a few minutes later as       forecasters spotted yet another hook echo on their radars and ad       enaline-revved storm spotters confirmed the twisters that dropped from       seething skies one after another.               We lined our bathroom closet with blankets and pillows for my grandson. My       husband kept going outside to look at the sky. If an atmosphere can become       sentient, the one out there was a malevolent, living thing. This was not your       usual storm. Even our Golden Retriever was pacing the floor.       [...]       Storm clouds approach Huntsville, Alabama, on April 27th. Photo credit: Nancy       Vreuls of NASA/MSFC               In the late afternoon, we lost power. We scrambled to find our radio,       batteries, flashlights, candles, and matches, as tornados continued to train       across the area. The wind finally died down around 10 pm.               April 28, 2011: The power was still out when I woke up the morning after the       storm. I made coffee on our camp stove in the back yard and sat in a lawn       chair to listen to the radio. The news was worse than I'd expected. As the sun       rose to begin an apologetically brilliant, clear day, I said a silent prayer       for those who had lost their lives in the storms. They were, and still are, on       my mind and in my heart. (More than a week later, all the missing have yet to       be accounted for.)               I couldn't check on family or friends by cell phone until that evening, and       even then phone service was spotty, as it would be for two more days. The       people I finally reached said they'd been trying to call me. Science@NASA       editor Tony Phillips was among them. When we finally talked, he made sure I       was okay and then said something that blew my mind: "I want you to write a       story about this."               With no lights, no computer, spotty cell phone coverage?               "Okay," I answered, and then began figuring out how to do it.               April 29, 2011: The next morning I located a friend who lived near the       Tennessee border, 30 miles away, and had power and internet. The route to her       house led through one of the "war zones." There was nothing left intact.       [...]       A tornado so wide that its funnel shape is not immediately obvious approaches       Huntsville, AL. Video by Sissy Brown at the Fairview Baptist Church. What had       caused a storm of this magnitude?               I emailed prospective interviewees at NASA and the National Weather Service,       hoping they'd have internet service - and some answers. I urged my contacts to       call me as I had no computer access anywhere in Huntsville and was headed back       there.               By mid-afternoon, no one had called back, so it was time to try another tack.       [...]       I drove to the National Space Science and Technology Center, a leading-edge       severe weather research center housing investigators from NASA and the       University of Alabama as well as the National Weather Service's Forecast       Office in Huntsville. Ironically, the historic line of tornadoes had torn       through the skies right above the center on the 27th, causing it to be briefly       evacuated except for key weather personnel.1               I was glad to see a few cars in the parking lot and hear the hum of a       generator. Using my badge to enter the building, I made my way through       semi-dark hallways to the Weather Service Office. There I found Larry Burgett       of their Public Service Unit along with forecaster Jennifer Lee. Both of them       were part of a large team that had worked from 3:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. central       time, nonstop, the day of the storm to track the event and alert the public.               "It was a day unlike any other," said Burgett. "We've never issued so many       warnings in rapid succession. And we've never had so many damage reports in       one day."               The field survey team2 examining the damage in north Alabama reported one       twister as an EF-5, a ranking reserved for the most violent and destructive       tornadoes. It had peak winds of 210 mph, was 1.25 miles wide in spots, and       stayed on the ground for 132 miles.               "Not only was there a tremendous outbreak of tornadoes - but many of them       ripped along the ground for a long time," said Lee. "It's very unusual for       that many funnels to stay down that long."               Burgett described some unbelievable sights: "Some homes were hit not once but       twice - by one tornado on the heels of another. That's unheard of. Maybe in a       rare case you'll hear of a home being hit twice over several years, but not in       the same day. And everywhere a tornado touched down - there was major damage."       [...]       Tornado tracks color-coded by intensity. The most powerful EF-5 tornado, which       passed by Dauna Coulter's location in Huntsville, is denoted in violet.       Credit: NWS [more]               I drove home, digesting and mourning all I'd learned that day, yet no one had       explained to me how this century-class catastrophe had happened. How did this       storm brew enough energy to transform itself into such a monstrous       tornado-machine?               Later, NASA meteorologist Walt Petersen3 and UA-Huntsville meteorologist Tim       Coleman called me with some facts.               "A deep cold batch of air in the central US seeped toward the southeast behind       a cold front that trailed a ground-level low pressure system," explained       Petersen. "Moist air from the Gulf of Mexico streamed in toward the       lower-pressure area like water heading for an open drain. Above that moist       air, we had very strong winds with lots of wind shear. That means that the       wind turned and sped up with height, causing the updrafts in the storm to       corkscrew as they ascended into the turning wind. Collectively, those       ingredients turned deadly, causing storms to form and intensify, and at the       same time rotate because of the wind shear."               Coleman added: "This kind of set up in the atmosphere is extremely rare. We       have a number in meteorology called the EHI (Energy Helicity Index)4 that       indicates the likelihood of tornadoes developing. With an EHI over 2 you can       expect some tornadoes. Over 5 and you can expect some significant tornadoes.       The EHI predicted by computer models the day before this event was 10, and       that prediction was correct."               Coleman admits that he was frightened by what he'd seen developing. And as       part of a storm survey team sorting through the rubble the day after the       mega-storm, he found that his fears had been realized.               "Brick homes were blown apart. Even above-ground walls of their basements were       gone, and there were mountains of debris - including concrete blocks and large       pieces of lumber - on basement floors. Some of these tornadoes were almost       unsurviveable. Only in a well-built storm shelter would you make it through."       [...]       Humor amid tragedy. Photo credit: Dauna Coulter April 30, 2011: As time       allowed over the next few days, I worked on this story outside under a shade       tree in daytime and inside by candlelight at night. Though I stayed busy the       rest of the time heating water to wash dishes, waiting in long lines to buy       ice and gas from the few stores with generators, and checking on my elderly       parents, life had, in a sense, slowed and quieted. No televisions blaring, no       air conditioners humming, no weed eaters buzzing. (The extra gas was needed in       cars.) Even the dogs were unusually silent. I've never slept better.               In any other circumstances, you'd think we were all enjoying an extended       holiday. People were out all over town walking to the store, biking, visiting       with one another. And they kept their good spirits and sense of humor through       it all. One neighbor posted this sign.               In the evenings, our neighbors brought the contents of their defunct       refrigerators and freezers over to share, and we cooked out on grills and the       camp stove. Communities all over town had similar gatherings. My 86 year old       father, who cares and cooks for my semi-invalid mother, reported each day on       what their neighbors had brought them for supper. "We've been eating better       than we ever did with my cooking!" he said.               At night the city was so dark, it was like living in a different century. I       rode my bike under the stars. Replacing the gaudy glare of incandescent       lights, a soft glow of candlelight issued from the windows of neighbors'       homes. Some families gathered around backyard fires. And with not even a moon       in view, I saw stars I'd never seen before. There above me was the whole Milky       Way!               May 2, 2011: It's been a bittersweet week.               I was sitting in the back yard last night as a wave of cheering and yelling       started in the distance and seemed to roll toward me. It grew louder and       louder, closer and closer, building to this crescendo: my son leaning out the       back door and shouting, "We have power!"               People were cheering as the lights came on swiftly, street by street, across       the neighborhood.               "Let there be light!" (That was me, joining the sound wave.)               I'll remember these experiences for a long, long time: Slow, halting drives       through the city with no street lights working, waiting in long lines for a       ration of ice or gas or to buy a few hotdogs for the grill, curfews, taking       ice cold showers, fumbling around in the darkness for my toothbrush, stubbing       my toes in dim rooms . and thinking of those who were not as fortunate.               Author: Dauna Coulter | Editor: Dr. Tony Phillips | Credit: Science@NASA               More Information       Footnotes               1. The Huntsville Weather Service Office has a generator and large battery       computer backup system for emergencies.               2. Survey teams conduct field surveys of tornado damage, examining the length       and width of the tornadoes' paths and the severity of damage. The team uses       these observations to determine where the twisters touched down, how long they       stayed on the ground, their size, and the velocity of their winds.               3. Walt Petersen's personal account: "We ran the ARMOR Radar at the NSSTC       throughout the event until the power went out. As the worst storms approached       in the later afternoon, we decided to run low-level (that is, low elevation       angles near the surface) scans back-to-back so we could get the most frequent       updates on any tornado developments, because at that point public safety was a       clear concern. In other words, we switched our thinking from trying to collect       data over the full depth of the storms for research to continuous collections       at low levels of the storms to enable rapid updating for monitoring of tornado       circulation development. As the system continued to move into our area from       the south and southwest around 4 p.m., we could see things that were looking       potentially bad. For instance, we could see occasional debris signatures in       the radar data, and all of this was moving right at us. I left at about 4:45       p.m. and headed home to be with my family. Once I got there, I monitored the       ARMOR Radar at my home with my computer. As I watched, I saw one vortex that       seemed to be heading for my neighborhood. Atmospheric scientist that I am, I       had to take a look outside too. I did that until at one point I saw all the       trees in my backyard twist, in unison, toward the northwest. I also heard a       loud noise on my roof. I knew, from all this, that the circulation was nearby.       That spooked me and I headed downstairs where my children were. When we were       sure all was clear, we climbed the stairs in the darkness, assuming the house       was okay. We did have a sizeable leak in the ceiling. The next morning I went       out and saw a 4-inch tree limb stuck in the roof like a spear. Later that day       I had to drive from Madison to Athens, and the landscape was just surreal."               4. Meteorologists calculate the EHI by combining the wind shear that flows in       and makes a storm rotate with the instability that makes a storm grow: more.               Here are pictures of what I passed by on way to my friend's house to get on       internet. The neighborhood is called Anderson Hills and it's in the outskirts       of Huntsville.               Storm Survey Information from the north Alabama April 27 Super Outbreak               Satellite views of the tornado tracks               NOAA storm summary                       Regards,               Roger              --- D'Bridge 3.61        * Origin: NCS BBS (1:3828/7)    |
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