Meteorologists are a bit different from those of us who just regard weather as "something happening outside." It's a story they've been reading all their lives. Blizzards in May? Best plot twist ever.
Or, in the case of Therese Graf, pertinent evidence in a court of law. She's a forensic meteorologist. We'll get to that in a moment. First: How did you get into weather?
"I had a weather segment in school in fourth grade, and I really fell in love with it. A relative got me into the Milwaukee office of the National Weather Service and showed me around — the maps, the satellite information, the computers. It really piqued my passion, and from that moment on I knew I would be a meteorologist."
Most people don't base their career on a fourth-grade interest, but she says that's not unusual: "In weather, you'll find that most people who have the passion early on will pursue it. I rarely find one who didn't have it from early on."
What's the appeal to a kid? The thrill of high-pressure fronts? The mystique of barometric pressure?
"It was the severe weather, actually — the awesome force, the immense power. You have to respect it." A way of explaining the monster under the bed, then.
"When I was a kid, I saw lightning hit the tree by our sandbox, and it totally destroyed the tree. I saw it happen. That was pretty cool. But when I was older, about 11, a thunderstorm hit the house, lightning hit the roofline, and I saw a blue ball of light travel down the hallway and flash into my room."
Yes, a personal visitation like that might convince one they've been selected for the weatherperson profession. Of course, the really good weather — or, as some might call it, the really good bad weather — doesn't always come to your room.
