In his1933 inaugural address, president Franklin D. Roosevelt famously declared, “…the only thing we have to fear is…fear itself, nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” These were bold words for somebody taking over the presidency from West Branch native Herbert Hoover, telling Americans not to worry about unemployment and foreclosure all the while, wearing a top hat and striped trousers.
Nevertheless, FDR gave us words to live by—yes and words to give us the determination to fearlessly drive to grandmother’s house for Christmas even though the National Weather Service screamed at us to stay home or risk being buried under several feet of snow, starved and forced to eat each other like members of the doomed Donner Party.
While I love everything about the weather (I am from Iowa), I can’t help but feel that meteorologists must lead dreary lives, staggering under the relentless daily tedium of weather maps and statistics, watching a stranger’s spirit leave his body as they try to explain the distinction between cirrus stratus clouds and nimbocumulus. I believe meteorologists’ personal immersion in boredom compels them to inspire excitement—even terror—in others.
Weather people have learned how to appear scientific and dramatic at the same time. For the next week, they are predicting “60 percent chance of blizzard conditions.” If they said there would be 100 percent chance of a blizzard, it wouldn’t be nearly as disturbing. You could just shrug and stay home. But it is worse having the option to gamble the safety of your family on the 40 percent chance that the weather will be just fine.
They tell us, “A strong winter storm may bring accumulating snow and bitter cold temperatures.” It may bring tulips and a warm breeze. You may win the lottery. Who knows? Winds could reach 55 miles an hour with a chill factor of 35 degrees below zero, causing “frostbite on exposed skin in as little as 30 minutes.” Is all exposed skin equally vulnerable? I expect there are certain regions of skin, usually covered and unaccustomed to extreme weather conditions that might freeze a whole lot faster than 30 minutes. “Snow drifting could reach ten inches in some places.” What places? If I knew what places, I wouldn’t go there.
Weather people warn us if we must travel during a winter storm watch, we should pack blankets and extra food and water, check the tire pressure, windshield wiper fluid and battery, bring ice scrapers and jumper cables. We should always drive with our lights on, don’t use cruise control during white-out conditions and never pass a snowplow. After these dire warnings, you begin to question the very meaning and value of Christmas. Sure, I’d love to see grandma, but is it worth dying for? It is times like these that we can take courage from FDR who taught America how to not be afraid. He was a great president—even though he would have made a lousy weatherman.