03-03-2025
Do Oklahoma lawmakers see our state as a real-life ‘Twisters' set? Two bills tell me they do
Storm chasers watch rotating clouds hovering over in May 2024 in Gove and Ness counties in western Kansas. (Photo by AJ Dome/ For Kansas Reflector)
I'm beginning to think Oklahoma's legislators have been bamboozled by Hollywood's glamorous portrayal of storm chasers as heroic, brilliant individuals who single handedly save communities from tornadic destruction.
Because before the arrival of the blockbuster 'Twisters' last year, our Legislature wasn't trying to spearhead a Tornado Grand Prix race and launch storm-seeking, adrenaline-fueled missiles traveling at ungodly speeds onto unsuspecting Oklahoma motorists.
But that's exactly what lawmakers are proposing with boneheaded legislation that would empower a small group of predominantly male storm chasers to affix emergency lights to their vehicles, run red lights and stop signs and race around barricades erected by local and state officials to ensure public safety.
Last month, two different bipartisan coalitions of lawmakers unanimously approved creating a new breed of licensed storm chaser — professional severe weather trackers. Those individuals would have fewer guardrails than even our highly regulated law enforcement personnel and be required to complete no specialized training to guarantee they know how to safely operate as an emergency vehicle. A Republican-led measure cleared a House committee, while a similar Democrat-sponsored bill cleared a Senate panel.
The House's ridiculous plan would allow our state's broadcast TV stations – whose employees have a least five years of professional experience with a qualified media outlet – and a handful of state colleges and universities to morph into 'emergency vehicles' on any day with even a slight risk of bad weather, or when their station's meteorologist decides it's convenient to issue a severe thunderstorm watch or winter weather advisory.
So even if it doesn't rain a drop, these folks would potentially have the power to circumvent roadway safety regulations and drive 130 mph.
Rep. Scott Fetgatter said he came up with the idea after going on a 'ride along' to watch a storm chaser in action. Somehow the Republican emerged from the experience convinced that giving those chasers expanded powers is necessary to improve forecasts and warnings.
Like Fetgatter, I have also gone out on a storm chase, but I did not emerge with the idea that chasers need expanded powers.
Quite the opposite.
I found myself staring down the barrel of chaos. Non-storm chasers were frantically rushing to get home to their families before hail pummeled them. TV stations and chasers hurried to get into the path of the storm to get the best shot. My job was to monitor a public radar and a local map to make sure we had an escape route in the event a tornado dropped from the sky.
Licensed law enforcement and emergency managers, meanwhile, were carefully monitoring the storms from a safe distance, serving as a group of organized, trained storm spotters for their communities and the National Weather Service.
I escaped without injury, but storm chasing in the Plains is an inherently dangerous activity that has resulted in at least six deaths since 2017, including three University of Oklahoma students who died when a tractor trailer rig struck them. (OU has a policy that does not endorse chasing.)
Storm chasing draws thousands of thrill-seekers to Oklahoma and Kansas and the rest of Tornado Alley who dream of capturing footage of storms, hoping to sell it for a profit or to share it on social media for a viral moment. Blockbuster movies like 1996's 'Twister' and 2024's 'Twisters' have only increased the lure. Oklahoma TV meteorologists, meanwhile, rely on the footage their chasers capture to break up the monotony of hours of weather coverage and to entertain their viewers. Academics sometimes utilize chases to conduct scientific research.
The National Weather Service typically relies on a trained network of spotters, and modern technology like doppler radars and other observation systems, though sometimes they receive reports from chasers.
After watching countless hours of storm chasing footage on local TV over the past decade, I fail to see how passing a law that allows a few dozen people to drive like idiots will have any practical benefit for the rest of us. In fact, I fear it will make severe weather days more dangerous.
It's already difficult enough to drive in ice, torrential downpours and hail. Yet lawmakers want to allow people to speed and use flashing emergency lights?
Why should anybody have to spare valuable time pulling over for a storm chaser when they're trying to get home?
I don't know about you, but the last time I huddled in my tornado shelter, it was pitch black outside, and it was the National Weather Service — not a storm chaser — that warned me that an early morning tornado was potentially headed toward my home. While a tornado never touched down, I remember hearing the winds howl as the storm passed over.
If a tornado had destroyed my home, the last thing I'd want to see is a television camera capturing one of the worst moments of my life for entertainment purposes. I would certainly blame lawmakers for the indignity because their law permits TV crews to circumvent barricades erected by true emergency personnel who are legitimately trying to save lives.
I'm not taking away from the professionalism of some storm chasers, but we need to admit that there's an element of entertainment closely wrapped in this.
If you don't believe me, perhaps lawmakers should incorporate these folks as part of our state's emergency management division and have a central entity dispatch them each to a different location.
I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't have many takers.
Because ours is a state that likes being entertained by weather — so long as it isn't in our neighborhood and leading to Hollywood-esque policies that endanger our roadways.
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