The Dean of weather forecasting

celebrating a legacy

I was a highly impressed freshman meteorology student when I first met the dean of Penn State’s College of Earth and Mineral Sciences, Charles Hosler. He regaled us with stories from when he was a professor of meteorology in the 1950s and 60s, conducting then-cutting-edge experiments in weather modification. He confessed that if it rained after an experiment, it was tremendously difficult to tell if was due to the experiment, or it would have rained anyway! So the experiments were abandoned, but not before he had aroused fierce opposition from local farmers who attributed everything they didn’t like about the weather to him and Penn State—even accusing the university of flying a black airplane at night to seed the clouds when no one would notice. Once he was even shot at.

Dean Hosler, as I knew him, died last November at the age of 99. Today, I attended the Celebration of Charles Hosler’s Penn State Life and Legacy on campus, in the building that used to house the weather tower on the eighth floor when I was a student (and which is connected to what is now named the Hosler Building).

In the college’s announcement of his passing, it noted that “Hosler was one of the early titans of weather forecasting. He created one of the first television weather shows when he started broadcasting weather forecasts from Penn State in 1957, with a goal of providing more accurate weather forecasts for Pennsylvanians.”

Dr. Hosler received many awards for his research and administrative excellence over his long career. After serving 20 years as dean of the Earth and Mineral Sciences College, he became Penn State’s senior vice president for research and the dean of the Graduate School, and acting executive vice president and provost before retiring in 1992. I was glad to have been inspired by his example and earn my degree under his leadership in the atmospheric sciences.

Duo anniversary celebrations

a nostalgic night dedicated to two loves!

For our 44th wedding anniversary, I escorted my lovely date to a reception honoring another milestone celebration: the 50th Anniversary of Penn State’s Campus Weather Service, in which I served as Thursday night forecaster while a senior meteorology student.

Our 44th wedding anniversary portrait.

We visited the sixth floor of the Walker Building, which houses the meteorology department. The wall where dozens of newly-generated paper weather charts had been tacked up every hour, and the separate enclosed room that housed the noisy teletype and facsimile machines have vanished. (No surprise there!) As befits the world-renown university program, the Joel N. Myers Weather Center (named for its famous student and the founder of Accuweather) is now equipped with all the state-of-the-art-and-science tech. (I was fortunate in the 70s that Joel was still teaching for my first forecasting course—and to attend his self-professed “famous tornado lecture.”)

In the days before satellite imagery, 24-hour video feeds, and endless data streaming, we received the raw stats through a monstrous teletype machine, plotted each weather station’s data in a mix of symbols and numbers on a map, and then drew in isobars, areas of precipitation and frontal boundaries. Once plotted, analyzed, and interpreted, we’d hand-write a forecast for the subscribing radio stations, pick up the phone and call it in.

Today’s students have the opportunity to polish their forecasting skills along with live broadcasting techniques in a cooperative venture with Weather World on PCN cable TV.

We enjoyed Penn State Creamery ice cream, a tour of the studios, and running into two of my classmates from 1978. I donated an autographed copy of Kaleidoscope Sky, my 2007 book on atmospheric optical phenomena—the fascinating varieties of rainbows, halos, auroras, mirages, etc.

We were also treated to a tour of nearby Accuweather’s World Headquarters (just down the street from my office in State College). While I took a different career route from my initial plan of synoptic forecasting, it was exciting to see the incredible progress of the science and technologies from my undergraduate days.

And, after you’ve been married for 44 years to such a sweet and understanding wife, and she gamely accompanies you in a night dedicated to one of your other loves, let’s just say that it’s good that there were also cookies and ice cream!

Dry bones of August

Just about mid-August and it’s been so dry we leave footprints in the brittle grass and the ground has shrunk a half-inch away from the sidewalks. A couple of streets away, the locust trees are already in their October browns. But right here, the red maples are still in their glossy greens, although I see some scarlet blushing the canopy. Our Black-eyed Susans and sunflowers are enjoying their heyday, along with some johnny-come-lately Shasta Daisies.

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