Under the Weather

began their trek home from school. In Montana, Idaho, and Kansas, farmers enjoyed the break from tending livestock in the frigid cold. Settlers in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Wyoming ventured into town for supply and errands. By mid afternoon, the clouds rolled in, dark and heavy. A farmer in South Dakota heard a tremendous roar, and, thinking the sound had come from a train, kept working. Minutes later, he realized the loud roar had

been thunder, unusual for winter. The sky grew as dark as a seller, and icy winds tugged at his hat and bit into his skin. He hadn't dressed warmly enough for the changing temperatures, and headed toward the house before he left the fields. Though the snow fell from the sky like it had been dumped from a sack, seeing just a foot in front of him proved difficult. In Nebraska,

the winds ripped the roof off of a schoolhouse. The nineteen year old school teacher Mini Friedman tied her thirteen students together with twine and led them to safety at a farmhouse a mile and a half away. For her heroics, he received the gold medal and over eighty marriage proposals. Another school teacher wasn't as fortunate. Lois Royce and three students were trapped in their tiny schoolhouse when the heat ran out. She attempted to guide the children to her

boarding house, just eighty two yards away. The white out conditions confused them and they lost their sense of direction. No one knows how long they tried to find their way back. Sadly, the children froze to death, and though Lois survived, frostbite took both of her feet. As much as fifty five inches of snow fell across the plains that day, sustained winds of forty five miles per hour and gusts up to eighty miles per hour created snow drifts,

some reaching upwards of fifty feet, covering entire houses. Trains were stopped in their tracks or derailed when they hit snow banks. Telegraph lines snapped, cutting off all communication. Within twenty four hours, the temperature had plummeted nearly a hundred degrees fahrenheit. Fargo reported temperatures of forty seven degrees below zero. Known as the Children's Blizzard due to the time of the day the blizzard hit and the number of children who died as they tried to get home, it killed

nearly two fifty people. Many died within feet of their homes. Unable to use fences, buildings, or other landmarks to help guide them during whiteout conditions, they quickly became lost. Bodies were found days, weeks, and even months later. Some had frozen to death, while others had suffocated under massive drifts. Those tasked with the recovery reported that the bodies had been so solidly frozen that they made a metallic sound when touched. Children who had frozen were discovered with their

arms wrapped tightly around each other. As you might imagine. Some of the missing were never found. The National Weather Service, called the Signal Corps back then, had made a grave miscalculation. While they knew a storm was coming, they believed that using the words blizzard and white out conditions, much less telling residents a dangerous storm might be approaching, was alarmist. By the time they realized their error, it was too late.

In President Benjamin Harrison moved the Meteorological Department away from the War Department. The newly formed Weather Bureau reported directly to the Agriculture Department instead. Surprisingly, though nothing else about how the weather was managed actually changed, and the results were devastating. I'm Lauren bobil Baum, Welcome to American Shadows. Americans hadn't been the only ones tracking weather over the waters, though.

Back in teen fifty eight in Havana, Cuba, father Benito Vignier's founded the Balin Observatory, perhaps the most advanced weather station in the world. In Cuba, the stucco homes with their wrought iron balconies and zinc roofs, had been subjected to frequent storms. Hurricanes were so common that at least once a year, storms even tore the roof off of the observatory. Father Vigny has filled notebook after notebook with

drawings and descriptions of clouds. He cross reference to them with weather instrument readings, and made notes from incoming ship captains returning from sea. He also collected sordid and cross referenced newspaper clippings. He paid special attention to siras stratus clouds, the tall, gauzy clouds found on the outer fringes of hurricanes. His understanding of storms and cloud formations enabled him to

predict hurricanes with uncanny precision. When he was done with his notebook, he published newspaper articles in terms that ordinary people would understand for him. The more informed people were, the better of all his notes and teachings. Father Vigneyer's stressed that sarah stratus clouds could be one of the best early indicators of large storms still many miles out to see, giving people time to prepare. Of course, the

presence of such clouds alone wasn't proof enough. They also had a particular shape stretched across the sky in plumes, the bottom of the clouds pointing toward the eye of the encroaching storm. With this knowledge, the storm's current direction could be determined. This information, along with wind patterns, speed, and cloud density, allowed Father Vigneer's to build a storm model,

effectively tracking its future path and intensity. Before long, a telegraphic network of observers across the Caribbean assisted him in gathering weather reports and cloud formations. The British, French, Danish, Dutch, Dominican, Venezuelan and even the American government passed along information directly to Father Vignyer's. With the additional input, his already stellar

record for hurricane predictions improved exponentially. In the United States, Willis Moore took over as director of the U S Weather Bureau in He wasn't fond of Father Vigneer's work, nor any other weather forecaster, and decided that in the US at least there would be changes for starters. He wanted store warnings to go directly through him before being sent to local weathermen, effective immediately. Certain words were to be removed and devoided tornado, cyclone, and hurricane, among others.

As far as he was concerned, weather men were over predicting the weather and terrifying the public. Moore's next change came in the assignment of Colonel Henry Dunwoodie to the Bureau's Caribbean weather station. Dunwoodie believed that those who claimed the ability to predict a hurricane's path using cloud formations and wind direction might as well use divination instead. At

first glance, Moore's choice might seem a bit unusual. That is until you noticed that the new appointee shared in his dislike of father Vigner's and those who had followed in his footsteps. After the changes state side were in effect, both Dunwoodie and Moore turned their sites on the Cuban weather forecasters. The two men believed that despite the accuracy,

the forecasts were created by backward and hysterical people. The two men appointed a Bureau veteran, William Stockman, to be in charge of the United States weather stations in Cuba. Once there, he not only agreed with his superior's viewpoint on the local people, he took it a step further. He reported back to More and Dunwoodie that the weather forecast ster's methods of prediction were based on superstition and

lacked American know how and technology. He also told them that any data and know how the Cubans collected had been stolen from the U. S. Observatories, that they had been hijacking US data for years now. If you're thinking this didn't add up, you'd be right. Essentially, he was saying that the Cuban meteorologists, who had claimed were uneducated and superstitious, had never been right about the weather, but when they were, it had been because they had stolen

U S. Data. He also claimed that their lack of understanding and knowledge had succeeded only in whipping the Cuban people into a hysterical frenzy with warnings about monster storms. The report fed into Moore's beliefs, and in August of nineteen hundred, right in the middle of hurricane season, he determined that all communication between the Cuban weatherman and the US must be shut down. Seeing that the war depart

and controlled the telegraph lines, that part was easy. Banning communication between the U. S. Weather Bureau in Havana and the office in New Orleans was another matter, though. To remedy this, he ordered all reports go directly through him in Washington. He would determine what information New Orleans and other coastal cities needed, if any. His power grab had one small remaining problem, though the telegraph lines owned by Western Union More didn't have the authority to censor weather

data over their lines. However, he did manage to strongly convince them to set all weather related news coming from Cuba to the lowest priority. This would effectively slow the rate of transmission, or, as he hoped, force reports to be dropped entirely. On September three of that year, Father Lorenzo Gangoti, who had succeeded Father Vignier's, watched a new disturbing weather system off the Havana coast. The massive storm

twirled on its axis, changing speed and direction. Rough seas and wind gusts of sixty miles per hour battered the coast. Though the storm still sat miles off shore. While the center of the storm hadn't yet formed the all telling eye of a hurricane, he kept a close watch. The next day, the storm intensified before making landfall, washing away train tracks and destroying buildings in its way. By the night of September five, cirro stratus clouds formed over the moon,

and by dawn the sky turned red. Heading for warmer waters, the storm changed direction, moving north by northwest. As he had learned from his predecessor, Father Gengoiti, sat down and mapped out the hurricane, predicting the path the Texas Gulf coast. More had cut off every method of warning the people in the US. In warm open water, the already well formed and deadly storm would gain strength. All Father Gang could do for the people along the Gulf coast was

watch and pray. In the early nine hundreds, U S citizens were proud of American technology. They thought their advancement and inventions were unparalleled the world over. In such a short time, they had conquered the land, and now there had been talk of controlling the weather using cannon blasts, chemicals, and controlled forest fires. They lived in a time when anything seemed possible. In Galveston, Texas, technology sat front and center.

They had electric street cars and street lights to telegraph companies and local and long distance telephone lines kept communications with other prestigious towns. Open a city of culture, people enjoyed performances in three concert hall halls for travelers. There were no less than twenty hotels, including the ultraposh Tremont with over two hundred ocean facing rooms, private baths, and

their own power plant. More millionaires resided in Galveston per square mile than Newport, Rhode Island, resulting in enormous and elaborate mansions along Broadway Avenue. At the turn of the century, cities competed amongst each other for wealth and prominence. In Texas, Galveston strived to reach the status of Baltimore in San Francisco. The New York Herald had already written a piece on Galveston the New York of the Gulf. Others called it

the Queen City of the Gulf. In comparison to other Texas cities, Galveston was small, just a narrow island along the Bay, barely nine feet above sea level at its peak and only two hundred and nine square miles. Despite the size, it was the biggest cotton port in the country and the third busiest port overall. Forty five steamship

lines provided service from Europe to Texas. One of the fastest growing cities in the country, almost thirty eight thousand people called the small city home by the summer of On September five, the weather report in the Galveston Daily News was short. A tropical disturbance is moving over western Cuba and headed the south Florida coast. The report had come directly from Willis Moore at the DC Weather Bureau.

The day before, no one worried. An article in the local paper back in had stated that a hurricane of any significant strength would never make landfall on the island. On Thursday, September six, people awoke to a beautiful day with clear blue skies that mirrored the Gulf waters. At six a m. The Weather Bureau's chief observer, Isaac Klein, and his brother and assistant Joseph, took their morning readings

from the roof of the five story Levi building. They noted a no a, more barometric pressure and light winds. The temperature, however, was already a steamy eighty degrees. That summer had been warmer than normal. The air was hot and humid. You waded through it more than walked. Residents and tourists who ventured out for a swim at night said the Gulf felt like bathwater, giving very little relief

from the oppressive heat wave. Two hours after his first weather report, Isaac telegraphed d C asking for an update on the prior day's tropical disturbance spotted over Cuba. Moore's reply was brief, not a hurricane. The director assured him that the storm would certainly recurve when it reached the Gulf. According to More, Caribbean, storms on a northern trajectory couldn't continue that path and would curve back towards South Florida.

Though he didn't state how he had come to such a conclusion, he insisted that the heavy rains and moderate wind force would only affect the ships moored off the Florida Key Ease. He also predicted that areas up the coast from Norfolk to New England would get rainfall before

the storm remnants moved off into the Atlantic. Sometime Friday, Moore did tell the weather stations in New Orleans that they should put up the red and black storm warning flags to alert ship captains of potentially rougher seas, but issued none for cities further west. At one PM, More telegraphed East coast cities like Savannah and Charleston that Cuba had experienced heavy rain and that the tropical disturbance had

moved towards Florida as he had predicted. Later in the evening, Isaac and Joseph took the last reading of the day ninety degrees, which was hotter than usual for the season and especially for the time of day. The wind was coming out of the north, and the barometric pressure had dropped. Thick clouds began to dot the coastline. After sending off the report back to Washington, Isaac returned to his house on Q Street, where he lived with his pregnant wife,

four children, and his brother. On Friday morning, September seven, Isaac knew something was wrong. Though the reports from d C insisted the storm wasn't heading their way, the rough surf and the strong winds at least convinced More that Galveston should raise storm warning flags for the steamerships. Isaac went about his day of readings without any idea that More was withholding information. The East coast weatherman had given Washington some fairly surprising reports. The storm that had been

told would hit them never arrived. Key West had experienced strong winds but not much more, and Central Florida never got the storm More had predicted either. Isaac wasn't privy to the reports coming from East coast cities. He couldn't have known that Savannah and Charleston reported clear skies and mild weather. He assumed the torrential rains More said would hit the coast had already happened when the telegram arrived that morning. It never mentioned what the Washington Bureau had

already concluded. The storm that was supposed to be skirting up the East Coast was actually in the Gulf. Friday afternoon, the phones in Isaac's third floor office rang almost constantly. Ship captains, the harbor master, and business men stopped by with concerns about the high swells of water crashing on shore. The waves had turned an angry green, and the sky a brooding shade of gray. Strong winds whipped the storm

warning flags. Concerned, Isaac telegraphed More, who insisted that while he might have been wrong about the storm's path, it was not a hurricane. Throughout the day, Isaac and Joseph fended off worried citizens and phone calls. Every few hours, they took more readings from the rooftop d C had said they could expect some wind and heavy rains that evening. Nothing unusual, Isaac determined. Summer storms flooded the streets on occasion.

By nightfall, the temperature dropped, giving much needed relief from the oppressive heat. The last weather report Isaac received showed the storm southwest of New Orleans and moving due west. Again, not a hurricane, the Washington Bureau assured him. At midnight, Isaac created a map charting the storm's course. He concluded that the storm would make a direct hit on Galveston, had survived direct hits from severe storms before, he thought.

Despite his misgivings, he decided that Washington knew the storm better than he did. He left for home in a few hours sleep, but it was the brief calm before the storm. At four in the morning, Isaac woke His wife, heavily pregnant with their fifth child, slept beside him. The sound of the house, a sturdy home sitting on stilts, groaned and creep with the ever increasing wind outside. Feeling uneasy, he got up, dressed and headed downstairs. Joseph was also awake.

They stood on the balcony looking over the slate shingle rooftops, each taking in the wind, which had become almost chilly. I have the sense of impending doom, Joseph said, although he couldn't quite figure out why. Isaac did too. He went to the weather station early first heading down by the bay and then along the beach, warning residents that they might see heavy flooding and to seek shelter. Isaac also suggested that merchants should remove items from the floors

of their shops just in case. Meanwhile, Joseph took the map his brother had drawn to the closest Western Union office. The clerk shook his head lines are down. He slogged through the flooded streets to the next telegraph office, only to find that their lines were also down. He were remembered the phone at the office. While he couldn't send the drawing, he could at least make a call. Still soggy from the floods, Joseph rang the operator and asked

for a connection to Houston. She refused, stated that there were too many other calls ahead of him. Eventually, after speaking with the manager and convincing him of the emergency, the operator put the call through. Throughout the morning, the brothers repeated More's weather report of heavy rains and strong winds to worried citizens, telling them not to worry that Washington was assuring them that the following day would be clear and sunny. By three, the flooding had become the

worst anyone had ever seen. Isaac made another call to the Houston Western Union, requesting that they forward the report directly to more in d C. He stated that the local telegraph lines were still down, the gulf was rising, and that most of the streets were under water. The barometric pressure had dropped below twenty nine inches. He would be able to send another report anytime soon. The people

of Galfston were on their own. By six thirty that evening, Isaac waded through waste deep water to get to his house. He walked in to see forty people had gathered for shelter from the rising waters. At seven pm, Isaac stood at the front door, watching debris begin to fly through the air. The water, now ten ft above the ground, suddenly swelled to fifteen feet. Within mere seconds, debris began

to pile up in the water. At eight pm, houses that had washed away from their foundations slammed into the stilts securing his home. Inside, people huddled together terrified. Slate roofs designed to handle rougher winds sailed through the air outside. Joseph suggested they leave and try to evacuate while they still could. Isaac said they should stay it was too late to evacuate, and the debris would surely kill them.

A half hour later, the client residents could no longer with stand the battering ram of houses against the stilts. The stilts broke, plummeting the house into the raging water, tearing the home apart. Nearly twenty people, including Isaac's pregnant wife, were swept under water and carried away in what seemed a fraction of a second. The water pulled Isaac under as well, though he clung tightly to his eldest child.

Joseph managed to grab Isaac's other three children, and they struggled to pull themselves from the water onto the floating debris that had once been part of their home. Two more children bobbed to the surface, and the men snatched them from the turbulent water. Roofing and other debris flew through the air, killing people adrift on the flopsam Seeing the gore and carnage, the brothers fished out planks of wood from the water to use as shields. For hours

they drifted. The water was so high that at first Isaac worried that had been carried out to sea. Fortunately, around midnight, they collided with more secure structures. The group scrambled over the wreckage. Tree branches slammed into people as they've tried to reach safety. Finally, Isaac, Joseph, and the children found shelter in a residence of By daybreak on Sunday, September nine, the brothers crawled from the wreckage. Taking in

the destruction, They saw nothing but death and devastation. Galveston was gone. Nearly half the homes were missing, the rest damaged. On what used to be eight the ninth streets, not a single home stood. Isaac had no idea what had happened to the twenty people known to live there. Trees had snapped in half or had been sheared off by the airborne slate roofs. In the days that followed, Isaac made multiple trips to the hospital in search of his wife.

They suggested he checked the morgue, not the one in the hospital nor the local funeral home. The death toll had been so great that a temporary morgue had been set up at a nearby warehouse. They're the loss was unimaginable. Corpses, some puffy and bloated from the water, lay in rows. Survivors walked up and down the aisles searching for loved ones. Many of the dead had been covered in sheets and blankets. People carefully lifted the edges, looking to see if anyone

underneath might be family, if they were still recognizable. Like many others who wandered through the aisles desperately searching for their loved ones, Isaac never found Cora. She and their unborn child were one of the many casualties. Authorities estimated that eight thousand people died in the storm, but the death toll might have been as high as twelve thousand due to the influx of tourists. The hurricane, what we now know to be a Category four storm, hit the

unsuspecting city. Was sustained winds of a hundred and thirty miles per hour and storm surges over fifteen feet. Though the city rebuilt, raising buildings and constructing a sea wall, it never regained the dominant shipping status it once held, giving that honor to Houston. The Galveston hurricane remains the deadliest natural disaster in the United States and still holds the grim record the largest death toll of American lives in a single day, and because of it, the Weather

Bureau learned a lesson that cost thousands their lives. Hurricanes don't care about politics. Willis Moore stood by his predictions, despite the tremendous death toll, the huge number of resulting houseless and damage that exceeded seven hundred million dollars in today's money, He refused to admit his mistake. The weather report he had given Isaac for the day of the hurricane had been for heavy rain and wind, technically accurate, but without the crucial details like the use of the

word hurricane. For the following day, he said the forecast would be fair, fresh and possible brisk northerly winds. Most lives could have been saved. The Washington Bureau had reports ahead of time showing the storm hadn't curved backward as predicted. The East coast had updated more with that much. New Orleans had noted the path of the storm as well. On September six, d Captain Halsey of the ship Louisiana reported winds exceeding a hundred miles per hour and said

the storm was gaining strength as it continued westward. Though the Washington Weather Bureau knew this, they emphatically insisted it wasn't a hurricane and wouldn't hit Texas. When More predicted the storm would loop back and cross central Florida, Cuban forecasters disagreed and warned the Weather Bureau that the storm would make a direct hit on the Texas coastline. The Cuban forecasters had been right about predicting not only the

hurricane itself, but the path. Moore's failure to listen to the Cuban weather forecasters or acknowledge their expertise prevented him from properly warning Galveston. It had, indeed all come down to politics. Willis Moore was never reprimanded and continued to serve as the director until nineteen. The Bureau did reopen some of the communication channels after the hurricane, though More contended that the long range projections that the Cuban meteorologists

used were still quackery. Sadly, science when it comes to hurricanes didn't progress until nineteen, and it wasn't until ninety eight before forecasts could include words like tornado, continuing to leave people without warning. When Hurricane Katrina leveled New Orleans in two thousand five, the damage wasn't from lack of warning or word usage or accuracy in the prediction. In fact, thanks to lessons learned through tragedies like Galveston, the worst

case scenario was avoided. But major storms today present a new danger. Our cities are so much more populated than they were over a century ago, and getting people out of them ahead of natural disasters is a major challenge. And even with an emergency plan and early warning, some people refuse to leave, or they wait until the storm arrives.

We'll keep learning and getting better at what we do, but none of that will eradicate the biggest danger that we face, because the enemy will follow us wherever we go. Our most deadly flaw human error. There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. The Cold War was fought in the skies. During the nineteen sixties, U. S. Intelligence deployed a vast network of satellites designed to spy on potential Russian, Chinese,

and Cuban missile sites. After snapping photos, the parachute outfitted film canisters were ejected and later collected by cargo planes. It was a costly endeavor, and the last thing officials wanted was for canisters to end up in storms. Highly sophisticated weather satellites were used to make sure that didn't happen. Of course, being classified, few people even within the military,

knew of their existence. On July twenty one of nineteen sixty nine, Air Force meteorologist Hank Brandley noted a major tropical storm forming over part of the Pacific Ocean. The trajectory concerned him not because the storm may or may not have become a hurricane, but because Apollo eleven was just three days from a planned splashed down right in the story arms path. The crew who planned on parachuting into the ocean could be killed. The parachutes were no

match for the severe winds and down drafts. Brandley had a problem. Now he was one of the few who not only knew about the satellite's existence, but it was his job to monitor the data. He stared at the photos, realizing he had to do something, but he wasn't allowed to talk about it to anyone who didn't have the proper clearance. Finally, he located Williard Houston, the man tasked with weather forecasts for the fleet of ships being sent to recover Apollo eleven. Both men had clearance and were

stationed at Pearl Harbor. After reviewing the photos, Houston took the issue up with Rear Admiral Donald Davis. There was a catch, though, the Admiral, even though he was in charge of the ship heading to the Apollo eleven recovery area, didn't have clearance to see the spy satellite photos. In short, Houston had to be creative and convincing with out telling Davis where he had gotten the information or mentioning those satellite photos. The satellites weren't even supposed to exist, after all.

All he could tell the Admiral was that Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin would die upon impact if they splashed down in the original drop zone. Davis took Houston at his word, though, if the meteorologist was wrong, his career was over. After advising NASA of the new recovery location, he changed the aircraft carrier USS Hornets course and headed some two hundred and fifteen nautical miles northeast

of their current location. The new location altered the Apollo's flight plan, changing a bunch of computer sequences NASA hadn't planned on changing. Meanwhile, the Admiral sent reconnaissance aircraft to verify a storm was brewing in the original drop area. They reported back, Yes, there was indeed a major storm in the Pacific Ocean south of Hawaii. The rest, as they say, is history. President Nixon and the other members of the presidential Party were flown to the U. S. S.

Arlington on the day of the recovery. Marine one took them to the Hornet. The craft and crew safely splashed down at the new location. Once the crew boarded the Hornet, President Nixon told them, this is the greatest week in the history of the world since creation. Had it not been for the quick actions of Brandley and Davis, though, the legendary story of the Apollo eleven mission would have ended in disaster, all thanks to the most unlikely of heroes, meteorologists.

American Shadows is hosted by Lauren Vogelbaum. This episode was written by Michelle Muto, researched by Ali Steed, and produced by Miranda Hawkins and Trevor Young, with executive producers Aaron Makeey, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. To learn more about out the show, visit griman mild dot com. From more podcasts from I heart Radio, visit the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.