Global Storming
Published 1:57 pm Tuesday, June 18, 2013
For more than a day we tracked the moving mass of storms from the Midwest, all of us caught between its inevitable crosshairs, the meteorological blitzkrieg bull's-eyeing Virginia with its eastward movement like an invading air force.
When the angry sky did find us last Thursday afternoon it took about a tablespoon of imagination to be reminded of science fiction films depicting an attack from outer space.
The two-edged sword of technology was clearly revealed as the sharpened tool it is. We knew the storms were coming. We could prepare for them, understanding that Thursday afternoon wasn't the best day to bike 20 miles on High Bridge Trail. Better stick close to home.
The knowledge was a good thing in that way. Of course, we also experienced the building anxiety as the storms grew closer and closer, filling our minds with scenes of destructive dread. A bit of technology's downside.
Last winter, we started giving winter storms names, as if they were hurricanes, which seemed to make them more fierce in our imaginations as they moved across the nation. Not simply an anonymous snowstorm. A storm with a name. Only really big, potentially destructive storms, our life experience has taught us, have names.
Next, one supposes, summer storms will be given names, too.
Summer Storm Sturm And Drang moving eastward like turmoil incarnate.
Such reporting probably does improve viewer and rating numbers for those in the weather forecasting/broadcasting business.
We will, however, not fall prey to the temptation to start applying names to local government meetings and our coverage of them.
“Board of Supervisors Meeting 'Ted' is forecast to hit the community on Tuesday night. Take cover, people, take cover.”
Or, “The eye of Town Council Meeting 'Matilda' is expected to center on Main Street in Farmville on Wednesday night at 7 p.m. Go to the basement and wait for the all-clear signal.”
No, a bit overdone, not going there.
The storms were not overdone. Thursday's slam-banging was disconcerting. Okay, the sky did look scary and when the storm hit-and it did hit, hard-it all seemed a bit apocalyptic. WFLO measured wind gusts at 60 miles per hour and there were sustained winds of 40 to 50 miles an hour. Trees fell, some smashing houses in our community.
The storm was ferocious but, fortunately, also fast, moving on to its next victims quickly, and on and on.
Across the Commonwealth, over 300,000 homes were still without power the next morning, many of them in our area.
We were able to prepare by filling our bathtubs with water and make sure we had bottled water and fresh batteries in flashlights, prepared because forecasters accurately told us what was going to happen.
When the storm had passed, the evening glowed yellow and orange from a setting sun the storm had hidden but could not take away.
That, too, is worth a name.
-JKW-