Sunday, October 28, 2012
Nor'easters With a Twist
One year ago, I became a doctor. Well, not exactly. As I noted on this very blog, I actually received my degree from Old Ivy in November 2011. But one year ago today, I sat in a room filled with my friends, family, and historical actors, and successfully defended my dissertation. That evening, I celebrated with friends and family and then retreated back to my apartment to begin my new life as a bona fide Ph.D.
But you know all that. What you might not know is what happened the next day. A year ago tomorrow morning, as I was shaking off the haze of disbelief that somehow I had actually persuaded my committee that I actually knew enough about the history of science to deserve a doctorate, my parents were already on the road back to the Invisible Homestead. There had been forecasts of nasty weather and they hoped by leaving Old Ivy early, they could avoid most of the negative consequences.
They were wrong.
The storm in question was a classic nor'easter...with a twist. Because it arrived so early in the season, there were still enough leaves on the trees to catch both snow and wind, leading to a sizable number of broken branches. These branches, and occasionally their associated trees, proceeded to fall upon power lines, leading to electricity outages that lasted for days. It took the better part of a week for utility workers to restore power to my parents' home and the associated debris was still around by the time I came back for Thanksgiving. Stacks of branches taller than me lined the entire front lawn. It was truly a site to behold.
That was a year ago. A year ago, as my parents drove back into what would eventually become a wintry disaster zone, all I had to deal with was a half inch of snow on the ground. Granted, that was the most accumulation we had seen in the region since the 1970s, but still, it was nothing. From a meteorological perspective, my post-dissertation weekend experience was utterly mundane, and after hearing about what happened elsewhere, I was totally fine with that.
Cut to this year. Tonight, as I type these words, the city where I live has basically shut down. Once again, the same date, October 28th, there are nasty forecasts on the horizon. This time, however, I am sitting right in the crosshairs of what the media have referred to as a "Frankenstorm." Combining the worst elements of a hurricane and a nor'easter, this monster of a maelstrom is threatening to bombard the mid-Atlantic region and New England with a one-two combination of intense winds and a heavy rains. Public officials are predicting massive power outages, flooding, and all sorts of other weather-related nastiness. In my neck of the woods, all major public services, from the city courts to the mass transit system, have been shut down and people are being warned to stay in their homes for the next day or two until the storm has passed.
There are some people who, recalling the media hype over previous storms, have dismissed these admonitions as hyperbolic. In online newspaper stories and television coverage, I have seen stories about people with beachfront homes who ignored mandatory evacuation orders, hoping to outlast the storm on their own. For my part, I can understand the desire to believe that this Frankenstorm will pass through without incident. Based on the various weather-blogs that have captured my attention over the past few days, however, I'm inclined to believe this storm will resemble the most famous creation of its namesake: a shambling giant of a weather system leaving destruction in its wake.
I may be wrong, of course, but for now I taken appropriate precautions. My pantry is stocked to the brim with non-perishable foods. My new LED flashlight has backup batteries. I even bought several gallons of drinking water to tide me over in case something goes wrong with local plumbing---a very real possibility given that a water main two blocks away broke a few weeks ago. Now all that is left is to cross my fingers, hope that my windows don't leak (or blow away under sustained 65+ mph winds), and wonder whether the second anniversary of my doctoral dissertation will once again trigger a natural disaster.
Assuming that we don't get wiped out by the Mayan apocalypse, of course...
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But you know all that. What you might not know is what happened the next day. A year ago tomorrow morning, as I was shaking off the haze of disbelief that somehow I had actually persuaded my committee that I actually knew enough about the history of science to deserve a doctorate, my parents were already on the road back to the Invisible Homestead. There had been forecasts of nasty weather and they hoped by leaving Old Ivy early, they could avoid most of the negative consequences.
They were wrong.
The storm in question was a classic nor'easter...with a twist. Because it arrived so early in the season, there were still enough leaves on the trees to catch both snow and wind, leading to a sizable number of broken branches. These branches, and occasionally their associated trees, proceeded to fall upon power lines, leading to electricity outages that lasted for days. It took the better part of a week for utility workers to restore power to my parents' home and the associated debris was still around by the time I came back for Thanksgiving. Stacks of branches taller than me lined the entire front lawn. It was truly a site to behold.
That was a year ago. A year ago, as my parents drove back into what would eventually become a wintry disaster zone, all I had to deal with was a half inch of snow on the ground. Granted, that was the most accumulation we had seen in the region since the 1970s, but still, it was nothing. From a meteorological perspective, my post-dissertation weekend experience was utterly mundane, and after hearing about what happened elsewhere, I was totally fine with that.
Cut to this year. Tonight, as I type these words, the city where I live has basically shut down. Once again, the same date, October 28th, there are nasty forecasts on the horizon. This time, however, I am sitting right in the crosshairs of what the media have referred to as a "Frankenstorm." Combining the worst elements of a hurricane and a nor'easter, this monster of a maelstrom is threatening to bombard the mid-Atlantic region and New England with a one-two combination of intense winds and a heavy rains. Public officials are predicting massive power outages, flooding, and all sorts of other weather-related nastiness. In my neck of the woods, all major public services, from the city courts to the mass transit system, have been shut down and people are being warned to stay in their homes for the next day or two until the storm has passed.
There are some people who, recalling the media hype over previous storms, have dismissed these admonitions as hyperbolic. In online newspaper stories and television coverage, I have seen stories about people with beachfront homes who ignored mandatory evacuation orders, hoping to outlast the storm on their own. For my part, I can understand the desire to believe that this Frankenstorm will pass through without incident. Based on the various weather-blogs that have captured my attention over the past few days, however, I'm inclined to believe this storm will resemble the most famous creation of its namesake: a shambling giant of a weather system leaving destruction in its wake.
I may be wrong, of course, but for now I taken appropriate precautions. My pantry is stocked to the brim with non-perishable foods. My new LED flashlight has backup batteries. I even bought several gallons of drinking water to tide me over in case something goes wrong with local plumbing---a very real possibility given that a water main two blocks away broke a few weeks ago. Now all that is left is to cross my fingers, hope that my windows don't leak (or blow away under sustained 65+ mph winds), and wonder whether the second anniversary of my doctoral dissertation will once again trigger a natural disaster.
Assuming that we don't get wiped out by the Mayan apocalypse, of course...
