I had just been outside, so I knew it was windy. A few snowflakes skittered among the raindrops around 3 p.m., but it had switched back to rain.
I didn’t know that we were in big trouble yesterday until I turned on the Weather Channel and—oh, my gosh, Jim Cantore was in Minnesota.
You know, Jim Cantore. The top weather visual editor from the Weather Channel.
He’s so important that the Weather Channel only sends him on location if the weather is big. I mean, really HUGE—like hurricanes, floods, monsoons, or tidal waves. And here he was in Minneapolis, Minnesota. He was in our very own state.
To make it even worse, Jim Cantore was using his big weather voice. “Monster of a storm,” he was booming. “Fall Fury” screamed a headline as they panned away from Jim. Oh, my heavens. They had named our wind.
“Winter weather advisory,” “massive squall line,” “potential to be the strongest storm in Midwest history!!!” Jim’s big weather voice is easily an octave above his normal speaking voice. And, oh my stars, he was standing in my very own state.
“Strong, strong jet stream,” he screamed at us, trying to make himself heard over the wind whistling by his microphone. “Super Storm,” I thought I heard him say, “even bigger than ’98!”
I couldn’t remember the Super Storm of ’98, so I had to take his word for it.
“What sets this storm apart is its intensity,” Jim said worriedly. I hate it when Jim looks worried. It makes me worry. “It’s already snowing in Bismarck, North Dakota,” he warned, “and the snow is sticking to the ground!” Wow, sticking to the ground! Um . . . er . . . wait a minute. Doesn’t snow generally stick to the ground? As opposed to sticking where?
I left the TV long enough to go look out the window again. Sure enough, it was windy all right. And since Jim Cantore was in Minneapolis, I knew we must be right in the middle of something big. Really big. After all, Jim Cantore doesn’t hop a plane for an on-site visit unless entire villages are in peril or animal populations are fleeing.
I was half expecting to be blown away in the night. But when I woke up this morning, my house is still standing, my power is still on, there’s a little snow on the ground, traffic is moving, and we all still seem to be alive.
But thanks, anyway, Jim. If it hadn’t been for your broadcast, I might have mistakenly thought it was just a typical late October day in Minnesota.