I didn’t chase the May 10th storms, which produced tornadoes near McAlester and the deadly tornadoes in Picher, Oklahoma, so I was watching the weather discussions closely. Through the day, although the NWS was predicting isolated thunderstorms for late afternoon, nothing seemed to be developing.
At 6:00 p.m., a storm cell had begun to develop in south Tulsa County. I still wasn’t convinced that it was going to produce anything, but I decided to activate and head south.
The cell I’d been watching dissipated before it reached the Tulsa city limits, but another one was developing west of Okmulgee County. It was moving quickly, but it looked like I could get to it if I left right away.
The closer I got to the target area, the more powerful the storm became. Was it going to be a repeat of Saturday’s storms?
I’m not sure why, but from the beginning I knew this wasn’t going to be a “fun” chase. Maybe my feeling was the result of watching the eye witness accounts and reviewing data from the Saturday storm that had injured dozens and killed 6 people in Picher. Across the nation, the death toll reached 22. Part of me felt that I should have been there. But, most likely, my angst was because I’d learned about the death of Missouri storm spotter Tyler Casey, a 21 year old volunteer firefighter, who, after getting people out of the path of an EF-4 tornado, could not escape himself.
I was on edge.
North of Henryetta, an Okmulgee County Emergency Management vehicle sped by me, red and blue lights flashing.
I stopped in Henryetta at a convenience store to take a quick look at the radar, to see what direction I should go. Weather reports were coming in that it was travelling east along highway 40. The E.M. vehicle that had passed me just a few minutes before was now at the gas pumps filling up.
One of the occupants asked me what I knew about the storms coming. I told him that reports were coming in that a very strong storm system was heading right for us. Lowering in the base and rotation was being reported, along with heavy rain, hail, 65 MPH winds and dangerous cloud to ground lightning.
He looked at the radar in my truck, “I’ve got to get them off of the ball field.”
A pickup truck pulled up next to me. The driver, a local man in his twenties, asked me where the storm was now. His wife sat in the seat next to him, their baby in a car seat. “Do I have time to get south of here? My parents have a shelter.”
The storm was already approaching Henryetta, and us.
I patted the sill of the driver’s side window, “whatever you decide to do, staying in this truck isn’t the place to be.” He drove away. I hoped he didn’t try to reach his parents house. I prayed he headed to his Henryetta home and to safety.
I continued on, towards the storm.
I pulled into a truck stop south of Henryetta. The sky was becoming darker. The winds were picking up. The storm was here.
Several storm chasers, storm spotters and a DOW truck were moving east and away from the approaching unknown. The men and women who were previously chasing the storm, had become the chased.
I shot a few photographs and some video of the approaching system, but the heavy rains and strong winds hit, forcing me back into the truck. I had to either sit and ride it out or move on.
The scanner continued to relay reports from spotters that lowering of the base and rotation was still being seen. The radar confirmed their reports, and the estimated 2 1/2″ diameter hail. To avoid possible hail damage, I quickly drove towards highway 40 and then east. The storm was now chasing me.
I drove for several minutes before I pulled off of the highway. Two other storm chasers had done the same thing. We watched as the storm got closer. We were taking cover under the available canopy when it arrived.
When the rains finally let up, I got back on the highway and proceeded east, towards Checotah, and right into zero visibility rain and powerful straight-line winds. Once again I was forced off of the highway to wait it out.
When I determined it was safe, I got back on the highway and turned west to connect with northbound highway 69. I needed to get out of the storm’s path once and for all. I’d had enough.
East of the highway 69 on-ramp, a semi was sitting in the center median, placed there by either blinding rains or strong winds. I reported their location to the highway patrol and drove towards home.
A lot goes through your mind when you chase storms. You second guess gut feeling, you doubt what is being reported, you’re cautious with every mile you drive and with every turn you make. But, you are always in control of the situation. You pick where you’ll be in relation to the storm. And at the end of the day you know you’ve won, you’ve defeated it. But this chase was different. This time, it had defeated me.