Two years ago, when a massive tornado near El Reno, Okla., claimed Colorado researcher Tim Samaras, son Paul and colleague Carl Young among its victims, the personal loss to the storm chaser community hit hard.
But their deaths also put a groundbreaking scientific research project into mothballs. While the rest of the core group from the Tactical Weather Instrumented Sampling in/near Tornadoes Experiment — commonly known as TWISTEX — has focused on full-time jobs, their collective scientific work has remained in limbo.
The lull reflects the void left by Samaras as well as the logistical challenge of refining the TWISTEX mission and finding the money to pursue it.
“It’s almost like it’s a bunch of bricks piled up, but we don’t have the cement to tie them together like Tim was able to do for us,” said Ed Grubb, a Thornton-based member of the group. “He was such a good marketer of ideas. And his genius — no one of us can come close to matching that.”
Remaining core members of TWISTEX, scattered across the Midwest, have communicated informally about a restart. But if that happens, it could still be a year or two away and hinges on overcoming significant obstacles.
“There are rough plans to continue this in the future, but it’s dependent on time available to work on equipment, procedures, software — and also funding,” said Bruce Lee, a senior atmospheric scientist at Grand Rapids, Minn.-based WindLogics Inc.
He and his wife, Cathy Finley, focused on operation of TWISTEX’s mobile mesonet, or car-mounted weather monitoring stations that collected low level, thermodynamic data in proximity to tornadoes.
That remains a solid research niche, Lee said, but the group would need to renovate the three existing “meso-stations” and build another to proceed with its so-far loosely designed plans.
“In terms of how we deal with storms in the future, how we deal with deployment strategies, mesonet will still be the heart of the TWISTEX operation,” Lee said.
“Turtles”
Samaras drew particular acclaim for his design of probes, nicknamed “turtles,” that he positioned in the path of tornadoes to measure conditions, such as pressure drops, within the twisters. That work complemented the mesonet side of the operation.
While others in the field continue to do tornado research, data that fuels weather forecast models remains key to advancing the science, said Finley, also a senior atmospheric scientist at WindLogics.
Improving and verifying the models that contribute to greater advance warning time require years of measurements collected on location — which is where TWISTEX’s presence in the field fit into the broader research picture.
“You actually have to collect data over a long period of time to say anything definitive,” Finley said. “The problem is these observations are extremely difficult to collect. You have to be in the right place at the right time. The road network has to be good. It may sound easy, but it’s actually quite difficult. We were lucky if we got two good data sets from the mesonet as well as the turtles.
“It was a really important project,” she added. “It wasn’t high-budget, but we got a lot of bang for the money in terms of the data sets we were able to collect.”
Finley said she would be “a little leery” about continuing the work with the probes that was Samaras’ particular expertise.
He gained a reputation as exceptionally safety-conscious in the field and uncommonly skilled at anticipating a tornado’s path and placing the turtles in position to collect data as it passed directly overhead.
Samaras, 55, and the others died after the May 31, 2013, El Reno tornado suddenly expanded and shifted direction, overtaking their vehicle.
Paul Samaras, 24, was working as the group’s videographer. Young, 45, was a renowned forecaster.
Kathy Samaras, who lost her husband and son that day, said that while she would like research to carry on, she can’t support the idea of people getting as close to tornadoes as Tim did in placing his probes.
“I know that was Tim’s passion to do that, and he’d still figure that’s the only way to get measurements,” she said. “But I just think there’s got to be different ways to find out about tornadoes that don’t put people’s lives at risk.”
“Heartfelt venture”
Gabe Garfield, operations coordinator at the University of Oklahoma-based Experimental Warning Program, said that the scientific loss can be measured not only by what the El Reno tragedy halted but also by where Samaras might have taken the research.
“When you think how long it took him to get to that point, combined with what he would have been doing now, it’s a tremendous loss for science,” he said. “I don’t think it’s been filled to this date. It may be a while before someone picks up that mantle. He was very unique in what he did.”
An ongoing concern for the TWISTEX group is the growing popularity of storm chasing, which attracts flocks of enthusiasts with wide-ranging goals, from scientific research to video gathering to thrill-seeking. Lee wonders if the congested research space would allow for safe operation.
“It’s tough to work around tornadic storms in the best of circumstances,” he said, adding that he would still like to see TWISTEX continue. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way — hopefully. This is a pretty important, heartfelt venture that took a lot of time, a lot of sweat equity and ingenuity to put together outside of a normal university setting or government lab setting.”
Core member Ben McMillan, an Iowa-based media consultant who provides live feeds for television networks, said that the toughest challenge for TWISTEX remains funding. Selling its projects to groups from National Geographic to universities to scientific foundations was perhaps Samaras’ greatest behind-the-scenes skill.
He parlayed his celebrity as a featured star of the Discovery Channel series “Storm Chasers” with his credibility in the scientific community to lash together financing for TWISTEX projects.
“He was always the one who coordinated groups that support that research,” McMillan said. “He was brilliant and personable, able to share all our passions and establish a good track for the mission we were on and get other people excited. Without someone that talented, it’s difficult to continue.”
“It lives on”
The sense of loss, and remembrance, also holds on a personal level.
The TWISTEX camaraderie was strong, cemented by traditions like the ceremonial fast-food cheeseburger the team would leave on a vehicle’s dashboard at the start of each storm chasing season. That grew out of a time when Samaras, during a meal break, once tossed a wrapped, uneaten burger on the dash to take off on what proved a successful chase. It remained there as a good luck charm.
Grubb said that not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about the friends and colleagues he lost, and he hasn’t let go of the times they shared.
“I even bought my new cheeseburger the other day,” he said. “It lives on.”
Tony Laubach, who currently augments his work for a TV station in southern Illinois with freelance storm chasing video, also feels his colleagues’ absence when he’s out in the field.
“It’s a different world of chasing when these guys aren’t around,” he said. “This time of year, it’s a little harder than the rest. These guys meant a great deal to me. Two years have passed, and it’s still not easy knowing they’re not out there anymore.”
Kevin Simpson: 303-954-1739, ksimpson@denverpost.com or
