December 30, 2011

Was the Joplin Tornado the Deadliest We Can Expect?

Filed under: Severe — Erin @ 10:58 pm

Meteorologists and weather-watchers are bidding the year 2011 a less-than-fond farewell.  While it was certainly a banner year from the point of view of storm chasing—6 EF-5 tornadoes, 17 EF-4s, and many of them highly photogenic, as the dozens of home videos on Youtube illustrate—it was a catastrophe in terms of the human impact.  With 552 fatalities, this year is tied for the second-deadliest tornado year in the U.S.  The death toll is an order of magnitude greater than even most of the “bad years” of the 1975-2010 period.  Two events are primarily responsible for this:  the April 27 Dixie Super Outbreak, which killed over 300 people (breaking the 1974 Ohio Valley Super Outbreak’s grim record by a hair), and the Joplin, MO EF-5 tornado, with approximately 160 fatalities.

With the 2011 Super Outbreak, meteorologists are starting to work out an approximate historical return period for these large-magnitude events.  Before the 1974 event, the last comparable event occurred in 1936, with an outbreak popularly known as the Tupelo-Gainesville outbreak for the violent tornadoes that occurred in Mississippi and Georgia.  It seems that these huge events occur approximately every 35-40 years.  Obviously, a comparable event could occur next spring, but statistically, it seems that they are a 35- to 40-year event.  And, given that the 1974 Super Outbreak and 2011 Super Outbreak saw comparable death tolls, I think we can also estimate what the human toll for such an event will unfortunately be as long as the affected communities have unsuitable safety options for EF-4 and EF-5 tornadoes.

The Joplin tornado is a different beast.  We do not have a comparable modern event.  Individual tornadoes in 1953 killed over 100 people in Waco, TX and Flint, MI, but that year was something of a catalyst of public outrage, for a third tornado in Worcester, MA killed 94 people.  Public sentiment that year was essentially, “DO something so that this never happens again!”  And for 57 years, no single tornado in the U.S. did kill over 100 people.  Then… it happened again.

Was the Joplin event a worst-case scenario?  Is this the deadliest (give or take) that a single tornado can actually be now?

I think the answer to the first question is a guarded “yes,” at least for the specific case of a tornado striking a city.  The tornado was about as strong as they come; its winds were estimated to be up to 250 mph.  They can get more intense than that, but it doesn’t make a lot of difference in terms of structural damage.  The tornado rapidly intensified precisely as it entered the heavily populated regions of Joplin, and it passed right through residential and commercial shopping areas—the worst areas it could strike.  Examination of the track shows that there was also a pretty large corridor of EF-4 and EF-5 tornado damage, which would be expected for a wedge tornado.  Sometimes the area of violent damage is comparatively small, but this was not the case with this tornado.  Storm cellars were rare in this area, making survival above ground mostly a matter of good luck.  The tornado was also rain-wrapped for much of its existence.  In terms of the storm’s power and the location of impact, you can’t get much worse than this.  However, I should note that it occurred on a Sunday.  Some have argued that if it had happened at the same time of day on a work day, it could have been worse.  We don’t know for sure, and let’s hope we don’t find out.  I tend to think it probably would not have been much worse, given that residential areas (not a likely area for commuters to be stranded) and the shopping district (which probably would get more foot traffic on weekends than work-week afternoons) were such a large part of the damage zone.  In my opinion, the Joplin tornado was essentially a worst-case scenario for a tornado striking an urban area.  A comparable tornado striking an urban area probably would have a comparable human toll.

Unfortunately, the second question—is the death toll of ~160 the highest we could see for a single tornado in the modern era—has a different answer.  There are two ways that a single tornado could kill a lot more people than that.

One is the possibility of a weak, poorly-built or dilapidated high rise building taking a direct hit from a violent tornado and collapsing with a lot of people inside it.  Generally, these buildings are not supposed to collapse even in EF-5 events.  Images of collapsed high rises on hurricane landfall sites are misleading; these buildings mostly had shallow foundations and were undermined by the storm surge.  They were not blown over by wind alone, and storm surge is obviously not a factor for tornadoes.  The St. John’s Hospital building in Joplin took a direct hit from the tornado when it was at EF-4 intensity and it did not collapse.  However, a poorly-constructed or dilapidated one could.  (As an aside, one does have to wonder about the possibility of a tornado tearing up ground several feet deep, as happened in the EF-5 tornado on April 27 in central Mississippi. This could definitely undermine a slab foundation on a house, resulting in the foundation being ripped from the ground—the supposed hypothetical “F6 intensity” signature that one heard bandied about prior to the adoption of the Enhanced Fujita Scale.  However, high-rise buildings have much deeper foundations than residential homes.)

The other possibility is that of a violent tornado striking a crowded spectator event, such as a sports game, a fairground, a speedway, etc.  This possibility has been discussed at length by meteorologists such as Dr. Roger Edwards of the Storm Prediction Center.  It’s almost happened before, in fact; in 2008 an EF-2 tornado in Atlanta, GA struck the Georgia Dome while a basketball game (involving my college team) was going on.  It had gone into overtime, so people were not milling around outside.  Still, there are videos from that event of pieces of the roof collapsing and falling to the floor while the spectators were left to fend for themselves in the stands.  A stronger tornado could very easily have taken that roof off.

So yes, although the Joplin tornado was very likely a worst-case event for a tornado strike on a city, thereby representing an approximate limit on fatalities for that type of disaster, the potential exists for individual tornadoes to kill far more people than that in a different sort of disaster.  Let us hope that we can deal with the infrastructure and the safety considerations of large venues so that these greater disasters do not occur, either in 2012 or years to come.

May 26, 2011

What’s Going Wrong?

Filed under: Severe — Erin @ 9:23 pm

This year has had a truly terrible human toll from tornadoes. The current fatality count, approximately 500, is an order of magnitude larger than the average for an entire year. It is to be hoped that this number does not substantially rise, but we do have June, the tropical season (which is expected—and I agree—to be quite active and have a higher than average risk of U. S. hits), and the cool-season secondary severe weather peak. However, this figure is horrible enough even if these periods of higher risk produce absolutely no damaging or fatal tornadoes. Something went very wrong this year, something that has not gone this wrong in almost 60 years, and it is important to determine what it was.

Having followed the stories in a fair amount of depth and from multiple sources, I have developed some suspicions of my own about what some of the problems were. These are problems that either appeared in multiple situations or that appeared in sites where high concentrations of deaths occurred. Other people may form their own opinions, but in whatever analysis of 2011 that takes place (and you can just about guarantee that something of the kind will be done), I hope that the following issues are seriously examined.

1. Safety recommendations for urban residents.
One ugly lesson we have had forced on us this year is that, contrary to long-standing myth about cities being safer than rural areas in tornadoes (perhaps because of the idea that buildings will provide resistance?), a city may well be the worst place one can be in a violent tornado. Even in the age of high-resolution Doppler radar, real-time chaser and spotter reports, live coverage, and 20-minute lead times for warnings, we now know that an EF-5 tornado striking an urban center can result in a triple-digit death toll, as happened in Joplin, MO. It is easy, in retrospect, to understand why a densely packed urban area may be the worst possible place to be. Other than high-rise office buildings, there is no safe place to be. High-rises, according to the EF-scale, will not be demolished even in an EF-5; the maximum expected damage is “permanent structural deformation.” However, directing everyone to the nearest tall office building is a ridiculous “safety” recommendation, needless to say.

What are some other problems with urban areas? Many buildings in the central business district, like fast food restaurants and small businesses, are not constructed to withstand anything like a tornado, and they are simply not safe places to be. Big box retailers will contain very heavy stock that is piled high, providing plenty of potentially deadly missiles. Vehicles are everywhere, and they will become airborne. Designated tornado shelters, which some communities do have, would be useful only if people flocked to these sites well in advance of an actual tornado, because congestion on the roads could result in mass fatalities. Storm cellars would be all but nonexistent, and basements are limited in spatial extent and would be directly beneath the houses, which puts anyone taking shelter therein at risk of exposure to tornadic winds and suction if the house is removed. There is no easy way to get out of danger; traffic congestion will occur if people try to evacuate en masse, putting people in possibly even greater danger than they would have been if they had stayed put. And, of course, cities will have more debris than any other type of community.

We need to seriously consider what kind of safety recommendations can reasonably be given to people who live in town—if any. It is highly uncommon for cities to be struck by EF-4 and EF-5 tornadoes, but it can happen, and the buildings do not provide friction-based wind resistance that would mitigate the effect of violent winds. The situation needs to be looked at to see if any sort of useful specialized safety advice can be given to urbanites.

2. Vulnerability of cell phone networks.
Sometimes when tornado victims are quoted in the news as saying “there was no warning,” what they mean is that they, personally, were not aware of the situation. However, every fatal tornado this year except for one occurred within a tornado watch (link), and that one, an EF-3, occurred within a severe thunderstorm watch. I do not want to sound callous, but there is a responsibility to be weather-aware, which includes awareness of tornado watches and warnings. The outbreaks were all extremely well forecast. Most warnings this year had lead times of 20 minutes or so. In these situations, it is simply inaccurate to say that there was “no warning.” It is passive-aggressively blaming the Weather Service for one’s own failure to be aware.

However, in some cases, there was a legitimate lack of warning, though this is not the failure of the Weather Service. These instances involved the failure of the power grid and the cell phone network, taking down any means by which one might receive weather warnings other than a battery-powered or hand-crank radio. This occurred in some of the small towns that were overrun by the extremely violent EF-5 tornado that traversed northwest Alabama on April 27. I think it also occurred in one of the EF-4 tornadoes of the same day. This is a real problem. Most new phones have the ability to function as handheld PDA, music player, portable gaming device, organizer, Rolodex, e-mail, Twitter, Facebook, and even web browser. With this kind of capability—and none of it dependent on a steady AC/DC power supply—it is easy to understand why people would be reluctant to buy a portable radio. They depend on their phones, and with good reason. However, the cell phone network is clearly vulnerable. If there is significant damage to a tower, down the network goes. This goes for other disasters, including terrorism. The problem needs to be examined to see if these towers can be made more robust. Severe weather outbreaks usually have more than one round, and areas that saw their power and communications knocked out by one (even relatively benign) event can be extremely vulnerable later on.

3. The DTV conversion.
I had a bad feeling about this as soon as the DTV changeover began back in 2009. With the old analog signals, one could have a fuzzy screen—even no visuals at all—and still have audio. With the digital signal, the broadcast becomes choppy, and before long it goes completely black and silent. You have either a near-perfect picture or you have nothing. I have heard more than one anecdote of people in tornado-struck areas who did not lose power until after the tornado hit, but who could not hear the warnings because their TV signal had gone out. I don’t know how many fatalities, if any, were caused by this, but it is a problem that, in my opinion, was severely underrated when the rush to DTV was taking place.

4. Dangerous amateur videography.
There are a lot of videos out there of this year’s tornadoes, and a great many of them were not taken by experienced storm chasers or always-running security cameras. They are also not all taken by people who were a safe distance away from the tornado. One tornado video from Alabama was shot by someone who had a car accident while taking the video! This is a major problem. There is not one thing that can legally be done to stop people from taking video of approaching tornadoes if that is what they want to do, but it is a sad reflection on our society. I don’t blame storm chasers for this. Responsible storm chasers and weather spotters have provided a lot of on-site reports, helping newscasters and people following the situation online know when there is actually a confirmed tornado. Real-time reports of a tornado on the ground helped me decide to evacuate in advance of an EF-5 tornado. Some storm chasers behave highly irresponsibly on the road, and they should be condemned by the rest of the community for it, but overall these people take their hobby very seriously. The videos I speak of are taken by people who just happened to see the tornado and decided it would be a cool idea to get video of it, and the videographers clearly have no knowledge of how far away they should be or where to go if the tornado shifts its path. This particular trend is not the fault of storm chasers; it was produced by social media culture.

5. Lack of shelter from violent tornadoes.
The overwhelming majority of this year’s fatalities have occurred in violent tornadoes, those rated EF-4 and EF-5. This is because these tornadoes will utterly demolish well-built houses, leaving only a pile of debris over a foundation (EF-4) or a bare foundation altogether (EF-5). The Hackleburg, AL EF-5 tornado even buckled the concrete slab foundation of one structure, and the Neshoba County, MS EF-5 (“my” tornado) dug up dirt two feet deep. I think that the odds of survival in these tornadoes are still better than 50-50, but it is easy to see how this kind of situation is incredibly dangerous. The unfortunate fact is that a majority of houses in the South and Midwest do not have basements or storm cellars. My position is that storm cellars are preferable to basements, especially if they have a “fallout shelter” design in which the entrance is not directly above the main room, but is horizontally removed from it. I have read enough accounts of people who took shelter in their basements and were sucked out that (while I agree that basements are clearly preferable to any above-ground shelter) I cannot equate basements and storm cellars. I would also recommend firmly anchored handrails in the main room, in case the door was torn away. The opening sequence of Twister is not myth.

I definitely do not equate above-ground saferooms with underground shelter. These structures are engineered, yes, but they are highly vulnerable on two counts. One, if they are undermined from below, they will roll. Two, the engineering is based on a typical flying missile the size of a 2×4 and a typical flying missile speed of 100 mph. EF-5 tornadoes have wind speeds upwards of 200 mph and have even been clocked as high as 300 mph, though it is a matter of debate whether a large object would travel at these extreme speeds. However, these large objects do travel. In Smithville, MS, the town water tower was dented 120 feet above the ground by a car that became airborne. This is known for a fact by matching paint from the tower and the car. There is video on the Internet of a Canadian F5 tornado in which a whole house is clearly airborne at a great height before it disintegrates.

It’s easy to say, of course, that everyone should have an underground shelter. It is quite another to bring that about. I am opposed on principle to any government mandate to protect people from themselves if there is no risk to other people. This must be a matter of personal responsibility. However, I am in favor of rewarding the decision to install a storm shelter with a tax rebate or credit.  Such credits have been offered in the past, usually to specific regions after particularly high-profile and destructive weather events; I argue that they should be permanent and universal.

These are my suggestions about what should be looked into when the year 2011 becomes part of history, or when people begin to examine what has gone wrong with severe weather preparedness, whichever comes first. Undoubtedly other people will focus on other things. One thing is for certain: We need to know whether this year’s atrocious human toll was in any way preventable, because if it was, it must not be allowed to happen again.

May 9, 2011

Running from an EF-5: Part Three

Filed under: Severe — Erin @ 1:46 pm

I hope everyone had a good Mother’s Day, or just a good Sunday. This is Part Three of the series about the EF-5 tornado that went through central Mississippi on April 27, 2011. Part One and Part Two are linked.

Days later, after the terrible human toll becomes widely known, the scientific damage surveys come in.  I’d been keeping an eye on them, not really expecting this storm to be high on the priority list because there were fatalities in other areas such as Smithville (it is not known at the time that “my” storm was the same tornado that killed 3 women in Kemper County), but knowing that eventually it would be examined.  One day, the piece of news I have been interested in for personal reasons comes in; the tornado has been rated EF-4 with 180 mph winds.  It began around Philadelphia and lifted outside of Mashulaville.  The Jackson office of the Weather Service helpfully put a Google Earth file on their website that showed the tracks of the tornado and the supercell that spawned it; I download this file and look at it.  The mesocyclone—the strongly rotating column within the thunderstorm—did indeed pass directly over my house.  The tornado itself would have continued straight into downtown Macon if it had stayed on the ground, most likely missing my house, though barely.  This fits with what I heard the day it happened, but now I know just how bad it really could have been for the town.

Like, I suspect, a great many people in the South, I have graphic nightmares about the outbreak for several days.  When some comparatively mild thunderstorms come through a few days later, my nerves treacherously ignore what my meteorology-educated mind is saying, that there is nothing to worry about except lightning.  I dare not suggest that I have post-traumatic stress disorder when I did not actually experience a life-threatening trauma, or when so many who experienced the tornadoes directly undoubtedly do now suffer with this condition, but everything must have degrees, and I am clearly experiencing some degree of being traumatized.  It’s hard not to experience something like this when you leave home with the completely justified expectation that you won’t be coming back except to ruins, even when that turns out not to be the case.  In addition, there is the knowledge of what might have been, with a significant helping of meteorological education and a vivid reading-influenced imagination thrown in for good measure.  There is knowing that the tornado I had run from was every bit as bad as some of the worst beasts of the outbreak—except that it did not last long enough to make a direct hit on a closely populated site.

And then a week after the outbreak, the tornado’s rating is changed to EF-5, the highest on the scale.  This is the kind of tornado that leaves slab foundations swept clean, the kind that reduces every smallish building in its path to rubble, the kind that obliterates small towns.  In the case of this specific tornado, it’s the kind that, by the force of the wind and probably some microscale debris, pulls up blades of grass and digs out sections of the ground two feet deep.  I recall reading a comment by some meteorologist, I have no idea whom, to the effect that he would not believe an F6 tornado could exist (this was in the days when the old Fujita Scale was used) until he saw coffins pulled out of the ground.  Well, there is no such thing as an EF-6, and “F6” was never put into practice because there were no official damage criteria for it, but four more feet and this one would have been capable of that one man’s stated standard.  And yet I think the Hackleburg/rural Alabama EF-5 was still more violent.  The damage survey for that one is responsible for one of my nightmares.

Three women in Kemper County, MS lost their lives in this tornado that I ran from.  They lived in a mobile home.  There were surely others in the South who tried to take shelter in these structures and did not survive.  Trailers are not safe!  Granted, little will stand up to an EF-4 or EF-5, but a trailer won’t even stand up to an EF-2.  And there are a lot more of those than the 4s and 5s.  The Weather Service guideline of leaving a trailer is spot-on.  And even a constructed house isn’t necessarily safe, though the type of tornado that would create uncertainty about survival in these structures is mercifully rare.  However, such tornadoes do happen.  They happened that day in April.  I wish that more people and communities in the South had storm shelters—and underground ones.  Above-ground concrete bunkers may be all well and good, but houses in the Hackleburg and Phil Campbell area had their concrete block foundations destroyed by the EF-5 that went through there.  Also, something capable of digging up dirt two feet deep is quite possibly capable of undermining a slab foundation by the same process and ripping it from the ground by an extreme wind-tunnel effect under the now hollow space.  (That would be beyond anything I have ever read about, but the possibility has been theorized, and this is how it would happen.)  Anyone who can afford it should build a storm cellar—and it bothers me that more people in this region cannot afford it.  There should be a tax credit for it.

I have never left the house before over a tornado warning, or even a suspected tornado.  This was a decision that I made based on the information that was available to me at the time:  my knowledge of the off-the-charts atmospheric parameters that supported violent tornado formation, my experience driving in supercells, the extremely threatening hooked radar signature, the probable debris ball that is usually seen only in intense tornadoes, the path that would have taken it almost directly over my house, and the report from chasers and spotters of a confirmed large tornado with damage and debris.  I decided that the probability of this being a tornado that my house could not stand up to was unacceptably high.  It turned out that the tornado that I fled from was an EF-5, which seemingly justifies the action, and yet I can’t endorse the choice I made as a general public rule.  It happened to be a good decision based on the fact that I had time and I knew what direction to drive, but in general it is a risky decision, and risky decisions should be made only if there is extensive knowledge to support them.  Blind, panicked “I have to get out of here and it doesn’t matter where I go” driving is not something we need.  Anyone who doubts this should take a good look at some of the damage pictures that involve vehicles.  As a matter of fact, extreme vehicular damage was one of the criteria that the Jackson NWS office used to upgrade “my” tornado to EF-5.

Smithville, MS.  Hackleburg, Phil Campbell, Rainsville, Oak Ridge, and so many other small towns in Alabama.  Tuscaloosa and Pleasant Grove, AL.  Ringgold, GA.  And almost, but for the grace of God, Macon, MS.  The nonchalance that at least some people seemingly had comes back to my mind.  I hope it was the exception.  I hope that, after seeing what happened to their neighbors in small towns just like Macon, they are reflecting on their own close call.  Do they know what a close call they had?  Do they realize just how out-of-the-ordinary the tornado that was barreling straight for them truly was?  Do they realize that, if the tornado had not lifted, there would probably be another small town on the dreadful list of “leveled by an EF-5 tornado”?  And yet, there are so many uncertainties.  Would the tornado have maintained that strength if it had stayed on the ground?  Sometimes they don’t.  Or would it possibly have strengthened even more, as the horrific rural Alabama EF-5 apparently did as it tracked north?  No one can know.  But we can make sure that, if something like this should happen again in our lifetimes, we have a plan of action.

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