People stand on the beach watching the heavy surf caused by the approaching Hurricane Sandy, on October 28, 2012 in Cape May, New Jersey. Hurricane Sandy is expected to hit the New Jersey coastline sometime on Monday bringing heavy winds and floodwaters.
A sign on dispay in Grand Central Station in New York October 28, 2012 as the MTA has been began an orderly shutdown of commuter rail and subway service in preparation for Hurricane Sandy .
In this handout GOES satellite image provided by NASA, Hurricane Sandy, pictured at 1410 UTC, churns off the east coast on October 28, 2012 in the Atlantic Ocean.
The North Shore Community Church displays a sign alluding to Hurricane Sandy on October 28, 2012 in Oyster Bay, New York.
A man walks on the boardwalk ahead of Hurricane Sandy on October 28, 2012 in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Governor Chris Christie?s emergency declaration is shutting down the city?s casinos and 30,000 residents are being told to evacuate. (
A boarded-up store remains open for business as the first signs of Hurricane Sandy approach on October 28, 2012 in Fairfield, Connecticut. The storm, which could affect tens of millions of people in the eastern third of the U.S., is expected to bring days of rain, high winds and possibly heavy snow in parts of Ohio and West Virginia.
nly a few bread items remain on the shelves at the Waldbaums grocery store as Hurricane Sandy approaches on October 28, 2012 in Long Beach, New York.
A man carrys a case of water down Lexington Avenue in midtown in New York October 28, 2012 as stores begin to close down in preparation for Hurricane Sandy .
A loader makes a sand barrier on the beach to help stop storm surge from approaching hurricane Sandy, on October 28, 2012 in Cape May, New Jersey. Hurricane Sandy is expected to hit the New Jersey coastline sometime on Monday bringing heavy winds and floodwaters.
A sign reads “Danger Ocean Closed” at the entrance to the beach, due to approaching Hurricane Sandy, on October 28, 2012 in Ocean City, New Jersey.
As Hurricane Sandy cuts a path of destruction through the eastern states, many are wondering about the science behind this ‘Frankenstorm’ and whether it has any clear connection to global climate change.
“There is a hierarchy of weather events which scientists feel they understand well enough for establishing climate change links,” Frank writes. “Global temperature rises and extreme heat rank high on that list, but Hurricanes rank low.” That being said, Frank write that warmer ocean temperatures do lead to more evaporation, “and that likely leads to storms with more and more dangerous rainfall of the kind we saw with Hurricane Irene last year.”
In situations like Sandy, climate scientists will often use an analogy: climate change is like putting expected extreme weather events on steroids. These scientists say that while it’s difficult to immediately attribute specific events to climate change (though not impossible, according to Frank), it is possible to say that many of these events are made worse by it.
Stargazers are in for another treat this weekend. The Orionid meteor shower, an annual occurrence, will make its way across the sky late Saturday night into early Sunday morning.
The best hours to see the meteor shower will be at midnight Saturday until early Sunday morning, with a peak around 2 a.m. StarDate magazine says you can expect to see some 25 meteors per hour. And some of them may look “familiar” — the meteor shower is composed of leftover debris from Halley’s comet.
The sky watchers at StarDate, a publication of the University of Texas at Austin’s McDonald Observatory, recommend getting as far away from cities as possible to see the shower. “Look for state or city parks or other safe, dark sites,” they write. “Lie on a blanket or reclining chair to get a full-sky view. If you can see all of the stars in the Little Dipper, you have good dark-adapted vision.” The big, open skies of Texas — if you can get far enough away from city lights — should be perfect for witnessing the event should skies stay clear. No rain is forecast for much of the state for Saturday night into Sunday. And the moon is only at a quarter and will set before midnight, so it shouldn’t interfere with seeing the shower.
More on the astronomy behind the celestial wonder from StarDate: Continue Reading →
James Holland (left) and his brother David own property that they say has been in their family since the Civil War.
Their land is just south of Beaumont.
It’s crossed by more than 60 pipelines because it lies in a corridor linking refineries and fuel depots along the Gulf Coast.
Their land is an area of coastal plains used for growing rice and hay and for grazing cattle.
TransCanada Keystone Pipeline took the case to civil court at the Jefferson County Courthouse
Judge Tom Rugg Sr. listens to arguments by TransCanada’s lawyer, Tom Zabel.
Protestors from along the Keystone XL route, from North Texas and as far away as Montana, came to Beaumont in support of the Hollands.
Faced with landowners who’ve refused to sell access to their property, lawyers for TransCanada’s Keystone XL pipeline project—already under construction in Texas—told a judge in Beaumont that they’re doing only as the Texas legislature intended: using “eminent domain” and “condemnation” to gain access to private land over the protests of the landowners.
“The legislature came up with this scheme because they wanted to promote the development of oil and gas in the State of Texas,” said Tom Zabel, a Houston lawyer representing TransCanada. “Texas is the largest producing state in the nation. Why? Because the legislature has encouraged the production of oil and gas pipelines. Because you can’t have oil and gas production without pipelines.” Continue Reading →
Giant shovels carve away acres of soil and rock, digging dozens of feet down to reach seams of lignite coal. This is the Big Brown Mine in Freestone County where so far some 14,000 acres have been excavated.
Big Brown was one of the first mines opened in East Texas in the 1970’s to fuel power plants.
Coal haulers run 24/7/365, bringing tons of Texas lignite coal to the Big Brown Power Plant, owned by Luminant. The mine employs 250 people, the plant 150. Luminant said last year that it would have to shut down the mine and lay off workers if new pollution rules affecting coal-burning power plants were enforced.
The EPA says older plants like Big Brown must cut their emissions of sulfur dioxide and other pollutants and that doing so would save hundreds of lives in Texas. But Luminant argued it didn’t have enough time to upgrade the plant with pollution control equipment. Last month, Texas won a ruling blocking the EPA from enforcing the “Cross-State Air Pollution Rule”. Luminant now says it will keep mining here. However, it will shutdown two other generating units for the winter at another plant in Titus County. Like Big Brown, that plant was built in the 1970’s.
Surface mining, also called strip mining, involves massive excavation, creating canyons where meadows once were. Federal and state laws require “reclamation” to replace and recontour the land.
For the most part, Texas lignite coal is used only to fuel power plants located nearby. Because it burns with less intensity, it has less value than compared to higher quality coals from other states including Wyoming. And since more has to be burned, it produces more pollution. Power plants use a mix of out-of-state coal and Texas lignite in order to meet clean air rules.
Located in Limestone and Leon Counties in East Texas, the Limestone power plant is owned by NRG. It was opened in the 1980’s.
The Limestone power plant is fueled by the Jewett Coal Mine nearby which is owned by Colorado-based Westmoreland Coal Company.
Gary Melcher with NRG manages the Limestone plant. He said the plant’s “scrubbers” remove enough of sulfur that had the new, stricter EPA rules taken effect, “We would have been able to meet that and continued operating the plant.”
According to the city of Fairfield in Freestone County, coal mines and power plants are three out of the area’s four biggest employers (number two is a state prison).
Anthony’s Restaurant in Jewett draws a lunch crowd from the mine and power plant.
If coal becomes less competitive compared to natural gas or even wind and production drops or stops, the Fairfield school district could lose millions in taxes it currently receives from the Big Brown mine.
There are 15 coal mines in East and Central Texas, five in South Texas.
In East Texas, where unemployment rates in some counties are among the highest in the state, coal mining ranks as one of the biggest employers.
In the war between Austin and Washington over the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s efforts to put stricter limits on air pollution, some people in communties like Fairfield and Jewett worry what will happen if coal production drops…or stops.
Four Central Texas Salamanders have recently been proposed to be listed on the endangered species list by the US Fish and Wildlife Service. You can learn more about the salamanders, and where they live in the region, in the slideshow above.
These salamanders are local to specific areas within the Edwards Aquifer region and have been threatened by development and urbanization in recent years.
“The Edwards Aquifer is an important water source not only for these four salamander species, but also for those living and working in the area,” said Adam Zerrenner, Austin Field Office Supervisor with the Fish and Wildlife service.
A man crouches behind a sign to avoid the high winds on Lake Pontchartrain as Hurricane Isaac approaches on August 28, 2012 in New Orleans, Louisiana.
Rescue workers transport residents trapped by rising water from Hurricane Isaac in the River Forest subdivision on August 29, 2012 in LaPlace, Louisiana. The large Level 1 hurricane slowly moved across southeast Louisiana, dumping huge amounts of rain and knocking out power to Louisianans in scattered parts of the state.
A car sits submerged in the flood waters of Hurricane Isaac in the River Forest subdivision on August 29, 2012 in LaPlace, Louisiana.
Rescue workers transport residents trapped by rising water from Hurricane Isaac in the River Forest subdivision on August 29, 2012 in LaPlace, Louisiana.
A child and an adult share a folding bed as storm-weary residents take refuge at a high school gymnasium in Belle Chasse, in low-lying Plaquemines Parish outside of New Orleans, on August 29, 2012 in Louisiana, where Hurricane Isaac has slowed to storm force but looks set to linger over southern Louisiana. Officials have urged residents to stay indoors and warned it would be at least a day before winds calmed enough for crews to try to repair downed power lines.
Leroy and Lisa Smith sit in a boat after being pulled from the rising flood waters during Hurricane Isaac in the River Forest subdivision on August 29, 2012 in LaPlace, Louisiana.
Storm-weary residents take refuge at a high school auditorium in Belle Chasse, in low-lying Plaquemines Parish outside of New Orleans, on August 29, 2012 in Louisiana.
An uprooted and fallen tree is positioned in front of a house in New Orleans, Louisiana on August 29, 2012, as Hurricane Isaac battered the city and surrounding region, flooding homes and driving stormy waters over the top of at least one levee, seven years to the day after Katrina devastated the city. Packing vicious winds of 80 miles (130 kilometers) per hour and rolling slowly over Louisiana, Isaac dumped huge quantities of rain on the renowned US jazz city as residents cowered in their homes.
Christopher Smith rides in a boat after being rescued from the rising flood water from Hurricane Isaac in the River Forest subdivision on August 29, 2012 in LaPlace, Louisiana.
Errol Ragas salvages blankets from his home as rising waters from Hurricane Isaac flood his neighborhood on August 29, 2012 in Oakville, in Plaquemines Parish, Louisiana. The parish, south of New Orleans, was the most heavily damaged by the hurricane. The system, which was downgraded to a tropical storm by the National Weather Service, moved slowly across the state, dumping large amounts of rain and knocking out power to half a million Louisianans.
A traffic light glows red after being downed by Hurricane Isaac’s winds on August 29, 2012 in New Orleans, Louisiana.
As Hurricane Isaac begins to work its way north of New Orleans, rains and wind continue to hit Southern Louisiana. And once the storm does leave, it will leave behind widespread flooding and damage. In the slideshow above, you can see some of the impacts of the storm so far.
And while Texas was spared this time around, a new report from the Dallas Morning News says that the state may not be as lucky in the future. Environmental Reporter Randy Lee Loftis writes that a scientific consensus is building in the state: the danger hurricanes pose to Texas is growing. Continue Reading →
“The drought was abysmal,” Meinzer says. “I felt it was my duty to document it in all of its ugliness.”
On the 6666 Ranch, in King County, earthmoving equipment is used to clean out dry stock tanks in anticipation of potential rain.
With stock tanks at historic lows, cattle, such as this steer on the Patterson Ranch, in Knox County, are driven by desperation to wade into the quagmire that surrounds each remaining water source, where they become stuck.
On the Patterson Ranch, a cow, paralyzed after a prolonged struggle to free itself from the mud, is about to be dispatched by Kynn Patterson.
Rancher Kynn Patterson and his partner, Pate Meinzer (Wyman’s son), use an old mixer to produce their own cattle feed in order to avoid the high feed prices brought on by the drought.
The bacteria Chromatiaceae, which grows in oxygen-deprived water, turns Croton Creek, a tributary of the Brazos, eerily red during the 2011 drought.
Heel dust marks the path of cattle leaving a man-made water source on the Williamson Ranch, in Knox County.
A parched Brazos River wends its way through Knox County.
A coyote and a young whitetail, usually adversaries, eye each other cautiously near a dwindling water source in Baylor County.
The carcasses of two Hereford cows that perished on the Patterson Ranch.
Last year, Wyman Meinzer got an unsettling feeling. Meinzer was raised on a ranch in West Texas and has weathered many dry spells, including the drought of record, when he was just a boy. But last spring, he started to notice unusual patterns. High winds for days on end. Temperatures much hotter than normal. Waterholes shrinking and filming over.
Meinzer is the official state photographer of Texas. He’s known for capturing images that show the state’s beauty. But as the drought set in, he decided to document it in all its ugliness.
You can listen to Meinzer’s story and see some of his images in the slideshow above. And you can read Meinzer’s story in the new Texas Monthly.
Researchers at UT’s Center for Electromechanics unveiled the new hydrogen hybrid bus.
CEM Director, Robert Hebner studies the bus at the demonstration kick off event.
StateImpact takes a tour of the hydrogen fuel station at the Center for Electromechanics.
The hydrogen dispenser station looks a lot like a regular gas station.
Six high pressure cylinders store hydrogen fuel on site. “At this station we can store approximately 80kg of hydrogen… With the amount of storage we have here we’re able to refill the bus daily to its full capacity,” said Program Director, Michael Lewis.
The working floor of CEM features numerous prototypes and ongoing demonstrations.
A series of gauges monitor the purity of the hydrogen gas produced. Only purified hydrogen gas is stored in the six high pressure cylinders.
State of the art cylinders store hydrogen gas safely, even in Texas heat.
CEM researchers have developed additions for the Hobby-Eberly Telescope at the McDonald Observatory.
At any given time, CEM sponsors more than a dozen engineering projects.
CEM has also developed flywheel energy storage technology.
The wheels on the bus go round and round … but water is the only exhaust.
That’s what researchers at the Center for Electromechanics (CEM) at the University of Texas at Austin have to say about their new Hydrogen Hybrid Bus. The new bus will be featured as part of UT’s shuttle system and will alternate between the Forty Acres and Intramural Fields routes.
“The advantage is, frankly, that it uses less hydrogen. We take advantage of batteries to provide most of the propulsion power. And the fuel cell just recharges the batteries,” said Robert Hebner, director of CEM in an interview with StateImpact Texas. Continue Reading →
Eugene “Boob” Kelton, 80, is an Upton County rancher and the brother of Elmer Kelton. “Fifteen dollars was the price for a ton of hay, and [the U.S. Department of Agriculture] was paying half of it,” Kelton says. “But whenever the government went to pay more, the producers just raised the price of the feed. So we didn’t realize any more help from the government, but the farmers that were growing the feed, they realized a little more profit. That’s kind of the way things go.”
Sandy Whittley, 74, grew up in San Angelo and is the executive secretary of the Texas Sheep and Goat Raisers’ Association. “The first year it was “Nah, not too bad,”” she remembers. “And then it was a little drier the next year. By about the third year, it was beginning to get really interesting, and then it got really serious. From then on it was just tough.”
Preston Wright, 90, has been ranching in West Texas since 1948. He lives in Junction. “It didn’t start overnight—we just kinda eased into it,” Wright says. “And when we got into it, it just stayed for a while.”
Mort Mertz, 88, has been ranching in West Texas since 1954. He lives in San Angelo. “It started out west,” Mertz recalls. “It tended to get dry out there and not rain, and that lack of rainfall just moved east. My dad kept saying, “We have these things; they’ll just go about eighteen months. It’ll break.” But that’s what caught everybody off guard: it didn’t break. It just kept on going, and it lasted about seven years.”
Brother and sister Nancy Hagood Nunns, 70, and Charles Hagood, 59, grew up in a ranch family that has had operations in West Texas since the nineteenth century. “There were no ticks in the fifties,” Nancy remembers. “It was just too dry for them.” Charles has been a banker and rancher in Junction since 1979. “I grew up in Junction and then went into the banking business, and I would visit with men that I’d always known as carpenters, painters, merchants,” he says. “And then visiting with them in deeper detail, I’d find out that they had been ranchers until the drought. Just like my daddy. The drought drove us to town. And that happened all over West Texas—it drove people to town.
Stanley Mayfield, 93, is the owner of the Mayfield Ranch in Sutton, Edwards, and Hudspeth counties, where it was so dry that when his son was born in 1956, he called him “Seco” (Spanish for “dry”). “When it gets dry, it gets dry,” he says. “You try to live with it till it rains. And you look every day to see if it’s gonna rain.”
Bill Schneemann, 77, has been raising cattle in West Texas since 1954. He lives in Big Lake and describes himself as a “semi-tired, wore-out rancher.” “After my wife and I got married, her brother drove home from Texas Tech through a duster in Lamesa,” Schneemann recalls. “The first thing I noticed was that his license plate was as shiny as could be. It didn’t have any paint left on it.”
“Boob” Kelton had to sell off his herds during the drought of record. “After you feed a few years and it doesn’t seem like there’s any relief a-comin’, you’ve spent most all your money on feed, so it’s best to sell ’em,” he says. “And that’s what we did. They were all gone, and you’d just look out there in the pasture and there wasn’t anything. Kind of depressing. It’s kind of like losing your children. It’s just bad. They’re part of the family just like everybody else.”
While the drought we’re only now making real progress out of is still fresh in every Texan’s mind, there’s a whole generation in the state that can remember a time that was arguably more trying.
The drought of record in the 1950s lasted for seven years. Imagine seven 2009s or 2011s back to back and you’ll get the idea. It was an event that changed the state forever.
The voices of that drought can still teach us something today. NPR’s John Burnett traveled to West Texas to hear firsthand from the survivors of the drought of record, and in his audio report below (and the slideshow above), you can listen to what those voices remember. And you can read the full story in Texas Monthly.
In the decidedly common pastime of river tubing, what could be better for floating your cosmopolitan cred than the Mediterranean-inspired wineskin?
You may be used to seeing this on the sidelines of football games, but its utility goes much further — it can serve a hoard of tubers at once.
There are few more classic examples of taking spirits on the road than the good, old-fashioned flask. As long as the flask holds at least five ounces, you can swig away while floating.
You might wince when its labor-inspired aesthetic reminds you of what your float was supposed to be an escape from. But at least its thick layer of insulation will keep your drinks nice and cold.
Humps aren’t just for camels anymore. No hands needed, either! Just don’t let the drinking tube fall out of your mouth.
Under the city’s “Can Ban,” several traditional methods of imbibing on the river have been outlawed in the name of conservation. But take note: alcohol itself is not banned. It’s just that all items consumed on the river, both food and beverage, must be held in non-disposable containers.
As our lead station KUT reports today, the ban has had a negative impact on businesses that rely on tubers.  Scott Gromacki, assistant manager at Greune River Co, tells KUT that his business is down 40 to 50 percent for this time of year. “We’re hoping it picks up,” he says. “If we get more rain that would help. But, the main factor that we’re down is the city ordinances.”
So what’s allowed on the river? It might be easier to start with what isn’t :Â No glass or Styrofoam. Containers cannot be smaller than five fluid ounces. People may bring along coolers but no more than one per person and no larger than 16 quarts. And no “volume drinking devices,” like beer bongs, are allowed.
With these (not-so-clear) rules in mind, we’ve compiled a list of five ways to get out on the river, cerveza in hand, keeping in mind that safe floating and responsible drinking are the best way to enjoy any river:
Coffee Thermos: You might wince when its labor-inspired aesthetic reminds you of what your float was supposed to be an escape from. But at least its thick layer of insulation will keep your drinks nice and cold. Continue Reading →
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