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The autumn, 1965 cover of Vermont Life magazine. A weird October cold wave that year helped start a lifetime of weather geekdom, which has morphed into a horrified fascination with climate change. |
When weather geeks like me are asked what got them into keeping their heads in the clouds, so to speak, they'll often mention childhood memories of dramatic storms like hurricanes, tornadoes or blizzards.
My experience is more odd and convoluted. I don't think what got me into weather and climate geekdom was one particular thing. But a long-forgotten early October cold wave piqued my interest. At a very, very early age.
I seemingly was born with the desire to understand nature, and wind and clouds and the sky. How it works, and why it's all as cool as it is.
For some reason my memories of early October, 1965 are vivid, even though nothing particularly exciting happened, and I was only three years old.
It was Sunday, October 3. West Rutland, Vermont. When I got up that morning, my parents were in the kitchen, talking about an expected cold wave and even the chance of snow.
Outside, a stiff north wind had just started, peeling colorful leaves off of sugar maples with gleeful abandon.
The temperature fell all day. I stood by the windows watching my dad doing stuff outside. These were big windows, with three panes stacked atop each other. As an adult, standing in the living room, I would look out the top window. At age three, I was so short I could just barely peek out the lower pane.
From the base of the window, my breath steaming the glass, and my mother warned me about getting fingerprints on the spot she just cleaned.
I watched my dad, looking rather bundled up, working one of the outdoor projects he was always doing. I think he was building a stone wall. He repeatedly pushed a steel wheelbarrow loaded with rocks and dirt up a hill like he was out for a stroll. He was 45 years old at the time and had the strength and stamina of a bull.
I wanted to go outside to "help" dad, but my mother said no. It was too cold. I was a smart ass, and frankly, sometimes actually smart even at that age. I pointed out that dad was outside, and that was OK. And I told mom she let me play outside in the middle of winter when it was even colder.
But I lost the argument. My mother must have not felt like digging all the winter clothes out. It was too early in the season to deal with it.
That evening, though, my mother turned on the outdoor lights in the backyard. It was snowing, only a little, and it wasn't sticking. But it was snowing. Both of us were excited. The first snow of the season.
It flurried for each of the next two days, in one of the earliest bouts of winter on record. I looked it up recently and learned the temperature in Burlington fell into the 30s during the day on October 3, 1965 and did not get above 40 again until the afternoon of October 6.
The high temperatures on October 4 and 5, 1965 in Burlington were 39 and 37 degrees, all record low high temperatures.
A WEATHER JOURNEY, CLIMATE UNEASE
Anyway, from then on, for the next six decades I bored people to death with my weather obsession, but I just couldn't help myself. I overcame a childhood fear of thunderstorms so that they're now my favorite weather. The louder, the better.
I get a stir of excitement with every storm. Except the dangerous ones that have been hitting with greater frequency with climate change. I actually cried a bit when I woke up on the morning of July 11, 2023 to see Montpelier under water.
Then the floods kept hitting. Until the worst drought I can remember hit this summer and fall.
The ever-changing Vermont weather I grew up with has started to change too much. It's gotten scary. And sad. This isn't the Vermont climate I grew up with. Epic floods. Epic droughts. Epic heat waves. It's so much weirder nowadays than a snow flurry in early October could ever be.
I don't think we'll ever get another October, 1965 in Vermont because the climate is so much different now.
Just two years ago, it was 86 degrees in Burlington on October 4, an all time record high for the month. That's as big a contrast to October 4, 1965 as you can possibly get. We're expecting potential record highs in the low 80s this Sunday and Monday.
When I was young, I LOVED snow, and 1965-66 turned out to be the start of a series of snowy winters that lasted well into the 1970s. That era was a great time to be both a kid who simultaneously loved snow and was an incorrigible weather geek.
The stats back me up. Burlington's average annual snowfall is 72.6 inches. Every winter from 1965-66 through 1975-76 had at least 85 inches of snow. Yeah, my ADHD always leads me to the stats for some reason.
Nowadays, I'm not nearly as big a fan of snow. A changed climate has minimized the amount of snow we get. Fortunately for me, but not for a lot of other Vermonters.
Snow in the winter has become uneven. Some winters don't get much snow at all. Other winters recently have had tons of snow. At least on paper. But it seems every snowfall is followed by a thaw. The snow cover never really gets deep like it used to half a century ago.
I'm still a geek who - unlike 99 percent of the rest of the world - can still get breathless over a mesoscale convective complex. (Don't ask).
I'm still as fascinated with the weather as I was as that three year old, who just wanted to join his dad outside on a wintry day during what should have been foliage season.
That joy I find in the sky and clouds and air is now tinged with a bit of sadness and fear. What will climate change bring next? I've always gotten excited when the weather got a little extreme.
But now, it's a little too extreme for my tastes. I imagine a lot of other people feel the same. Even if they aren't weather geeks.