How We Handled A Costly Severe Weather Warning Failure
A number of my commenters correctly point out that no meteorologist is perfect. I couldn’t agree more. So, I thought it would be useful to explain how my company, WeatherData, Inc., handled a bad storm warning failure. This case involved an exceptionally powerful rear-flank downdraft (RFD) that caused major damage for one of our largest clients.
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Supercell similar to the one that produced the 90 mph gusts |
The example I will cite occurred in 1999, very late on a Saturday evening. The RFD's winds were estimated to be 90 mph. They caused huge damage ($6 million in 1999, now $11 million) for one of our largest clients. We had a high wind warning out for the client nearby but not at the specific location of the incident. While that confirms we were watching the weather in that area, the fact the location of the accident wasn’t included in the warning made it irrelevant as far as the client was concerned.
I was awakened by about 1am and said I would be in later in the morning to gather facts and see what happened. Awakened again at 2am Sunday by a furious vice president demanding a report by sunrise, I headed into the office.
When I assembled the team together, I said we were not going to beat around the bush and that we were going to tell the truth about our failure, why it happened, and what we were going to do about it.
By about 7, the report was written and we faxed it to the client. The VP called back and said, “Meet me at the Kansas City American Airlines’ Admirals Club Tuesday at 1pm.” I said I would.
Monday, I called in every one of our meteorologists and we did a seminar about what had occurred and how we could insure it would never occur in the future. I had every meteorologist sign a sheet that acknowledging they had attended the seminar.
Tuesday, I took the signed sheet and the data to Kansas City and met the vice president. I went through the minute-by-minute data with him. He said he wanted to keep the data. While I was curious since the data was quite technical, I replied, “sure.”
A few weeks later, two other VPs called and said they wanted to come to Wichita to meet with me. Apprehensively, I picked out a day with them. When they arrived, I didn’t know what to expect. After the pleasantries over lunch, I was surprised to learn they wanted to work out a long-term contract. My face must have reflected my shock after the wind warning failure.
One of the visiting VP’s said, “Has no one talked to you since then?” I said no.
Turns out that one of the VP’s best friends was a meteorologist for the government. The data was taken to the government meteorologist with one question, “Is Mike Smith telling the truth?” The government meteorologist not only confirmed the accuracy of my information, he added, “That was such an unusual storm, I don’t think I would have done any better!” That caused so much trust and good will that they wanted to sign a new five-year contract with us!
I went from being worried about losing one of our largest clients to elated with the additional security for the business and our employees the new contract would bring.
Note: I do not post this to brag. During the frustration and exhaustion of that Sunday morning, I had no way of knowing or expecting this would turn out well. I fully expected we would lose their business. Our meteorologists, because they were treated with respect and brought into the solution, were also elated by the news.
We didn’t try to escape responsibility by telling them, “Well, we had a warning that was close.” The lesson here is that we didn’t shade the reality in any way: we failed that Saturday night and cost them a tremendous amount of money. We resolved to fix it and never let a similar RFD situation happen again. And, from then until I retired in 2018, it didn’t.
That is not to say we were at all perfect but that we treated the unfortunate reality that night as scientists. As one of my favorite former bosses used to say, “Facts are friendly.” Unless we treat our jobs as scientists with mission-critical responsibilities – and acknowledge our errors --our progress will be slower and more painful than it should be.
If you would like to learn about a professional failure of mine, I wrote about in Chapter 9 of Warnings titled “Tragedy.” That is a story that haunts me more than 50 years later.
Addition:
Less than 24 hours after writing the above, a supercell thunderstorm northwest of Omaha produced 84 mph winds much like the 1999 supercell in Kansas. In this case blowing dust marked the leading edge of the winds. Rear-flank downdraft winds of this intensity are uncommon.
Transparency and forthrightness are powerful tools in dealing with difficulties. Years ago, I worked for an organization in which one of the lab employees stole a small amount of a red hot radioactive element -- Americium -- and took it home. The boss call a press conference with a panel of radiation experts available for questioning, and the theft was news for exactly one day. If we had tried to paper it over or downplay it, progressive revelation of the news would have made it a front-page story for weeks.
ReplyDeleteWell done.