What do you think?
Rate this book
Storm Kings: The Untold History of America's First Tornado Chasers
Isaac's Storm meets The Age of Wonder in Lee Sandlin's Storm Kings, a riveting tale of the weather's most vicious monster-the super cell tornado-that recreates the origins of meteorology, and the quirky, pioneering, weather-obsessed scientists who helped change America.
While tornadoes have occasionally been spotted elsewhere, only the central plains of North America have the perfect conditions for their creation. For the settlers the sight of a funnel cloud was an unearthly event. They called it "the Storm King" and their descriptions bordered on the supernatural: it glowed green or red, it whistled or moaned or sang. In Storm Kings, Lee Sandlin retraces America's fascination and unique relationship to tornadoes. From Ben Franklin's early experiments, to "the great storm debates" of the nineteenth century, to heartland life in the early twentieth century, Sandlin shows how tornado chasing helped foster the birth of meteorology, recreating with vivid descriptions some of the most devastating storms in America's history, including the "Tri-State tornado" of 1925 and the Peshtigo "fire tornado," whose deadly path of destruction was left encased in glass. Drawing on memoirs, letters, eyewitness testimonies, and numerous archives, Sandlin brings to life the forgotten characters and scientists-like James Espy, America's first meteorologist and Corporal John Park Finley, who helped place a network of weather "spotters" across the country-that changed a nation, detailing the almost invisible history of The National Weather Service, the settling of the Midwest, and how successive generations came to understand and finally coexist with the spiraling menace that could erase lives and whole towns in an instant.
While tornadoes have occasionally been spotted elsewhere, only the central plains of North America have the perfect conditions for their creation. For the settlers the sight of a funnel cloud was an unearthly event. They called it "the Storm King" and their descriptions bordered on the supernatural: it glowed green or red, it whistled or moaned or sang. In Storm Kings, Lee Sandlin retraces America's fascination and unique relationship to tornadoes. From Ben Franklin's early experiments, to "the great storm debates" of the nineteenth century, to heartland life in the early twentieth century, Sandlin shows how tornado chasing helped foster the birth of meteorology, recreating with vivid descriptions some of the most devastating storms in America's history, including the "Tri-State tornado" of 1925 and the Peshtigo "fire tornado," whose deadly path of destruction was left encased in glass. Drawing on memoirs, letters, eyewitness testimonies, and numerous archives, Sandlin brings to life the forgotten characters and scientists-like James Espy, America's first meteorologist and Corporal John Park Finley, who helped place a network of weather "spotters" across the country-that changed a nation, detailing the almost invisible history of The National Weather Service, the settling of the Midwest, and how successive generations came to understand and finally coexist with the spiraling menace that could erase lives and whole towns in an instant.
304 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2013
72 people are currently reading
839 people want to read
About the author
Lee Sandlin
4 books32 followersLee Sandlin is an award-winning journalist and essayist who was born in Wildwood, Illinois, and grew up in the suburbs of Chicago. He briefly attended the University of Chicago and Roosevelt University before leaving school to travel and write.
He has written feature journalism, historical studies, and music reviews on opera and classical works — mostly for the Chicago Reader, where he was also for many years the TV critic. More recently, he has become a frequent contributor to the Wall Street Journal.
His essay Losing the War, first appeared in 1997, subtitled "World War II has faded into movies, anecdotes, and archives that nobody cares about anymore. Are we finally losing the war?" It has been on university reading lists and praised in blogs of both anti-war activists and neocon crusaders. A segment was adapted for broadcast by the public radio show This American Life and anthologized by its host, Ira Glass in a 2007 collection, The New Kings of Nonfiction.
Saving His Life, is his biography of his father-in-law, a Russian emigre who grew up in China. The Distancers (2004) chronicles the American Midwest of several generations, as reflected in the history of a single house. He has also written Wicked River, a narrative history of the Mississippi River in the 19th century and Storm Kings, a history of tornado chasing; and a revised, expanded version of The Distancers.
Lee passed away unexpectedly on December 14, 2014.
He has written feature journalism, historical studies, and music reviews on opera and classical works — mostly for the Chicago Reader, where he was also for many years the TV critic. More recently, he has become a frequent contributor to the Wall Street Journal.
His essay Losing the War, first appeared in 1997, subtitled "World War II has faded into movies, anecdotes, and archives that nobody cares about anymore. Are we finally losing the war?" It has been on university reading lists and praised in blogs of both anti-war activists and neocon crusaders. A segment was adapted for broadcast by the public radio show This American Life and anthologized by its host, Ira Glass in a 2007 collection, The New Kings of Nonfiction.
Saving His Life, is his biography of his father-in-law, a Russian emigre who grew up in China. The Distancers (2004) chronicles the American Midwest of several generations, as reflected in the history of a single house. He has also written Wicked River, a narrative history of the Mississippi River in the 19th century and Storm Kings, a history of tornado chasing; and a revised, expanded version of The Distancers.
Lee passed away unexpectedly on December 14, 2014.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 100 reviews
February 24, 2021
"[The citizens] heard a mysterious sound, a gathering roar, that seemed to be coming from all directions at once . . . Then every building in the center of town simultaneously exploded." -- the 'Tri-State Tornado' on March 18, 1925, the deadliest occurrence in U.S. history (with 695 fatalities), on page 199
As other GR reviewers have noted, the Storm Kings attention-grabbing subtitle does something of a disservice and/or is a bit misleading - actual storm chasers (those brave or foolhardy, depending on point of view, collection of amateur and professional camera-equipped folks who race around the twister-plagued midwestern U.S. since the late 1980's) are only really given mention in the epilogue. So replace 'Chasers' with 'Researchers' or 'Investigators' and you have a much more accurate name.
It is really about the distinct personalities of about a dozen or so vanguard men - beginning with America's premiere polymath Ben Franklin, in the mid-1700's, and up to the revelations by the U.S. military in the post-WWII era - who performed early and serious studies concerning severe weather and storms. Really, it's not so much about the actual incidents - though the notable events, like the above-mentioned 'Tri-State Tornado' and the Super Outbreak of 1974 are briefly discussed - but about the discoveries, the dispelling of myths, and the setbacks in their attempting to forecast and predict tornadoes. Some readers may find it a bit dry, but I love American history (especially those miscellaneous odds and ends of it) so I thought it was interesting. Storm Kings also contained what may be the scariest or most nightmare-inducing passage that I've read in some time, when author Sandlin details the nighttime crash of the USS Shenandoah in 1925. Said vessel was a U.S. Navy zeppelin or large blimp that encountered a particularly violent thunderstorm over rural Ohio and was destroyed in-flight. Disintegrated sections plunged to earth, but amazingly twenty-nine of the forty-three crew members survived what had to be the MOST terrifying moments in any of their lives.
As other GR reviewers have noted, the Storm Kings attention-grabbing subtitle does something of a disservice and/or is a bit misleading - actual storm chasers (those brave or foolhardy, depending on point of view, collection of amateur and professional camera-equipped folks who race around the twister-plagued midwestern U.S. since the late 1980's) are only really given mention in the epilogue. So replace 'Chasers' with 'Researchers' or 'Investigators' and you have a much more accurate name.
It is really about the distinct personalities of about a dozen or so vanguard men - beginning with America's premiere polymath Ben Franklin, in the mid-1700's, and up to the revelations by the U.S. military in the post-WWII era - who performed early and serious studies concerning severe weather and storms. Really, it's not so much about the actual incidents - though the notable events, like the above-mentioned 'Tri-State Tornado' and the Super Outbreak of 1974 are briefly discussed - but about the discoveries, the dispelling of myths, and the setbacks in their attempting to forecast and predict tornadoes. Some readers may find it a bit dry, but I love American history (especially those miscellaneous odds and ends of it) so I thought it was interesting. Storm Kings also contained what may be the scariest or most nightmare-inducing passage that I've read in some time, when author Sandlin details the nighttime crash of the USS Shenandoah in 1925. Said vessel was a U.S. Navy zeppelin or large blimp that encountered a particularly violent thunderstorm over rural Ohio and was destroyed in-flight. Disintegrated sections plunged to earth, but amazingly twenty-nine of the forty-three crew members survived what had to be the MOST terrifying moments in any of their lives.
April 26, 2016
As a child, I had three great fears. The first was the fear of losing my parents, specifically my mother. This fear is one of my earliest memories, perhaps occurring during the last stages of a separation anxiety phase.
My second great fear was fire. This started after viewing the “very special” episode of Webster called Burn-Out. You can view this episode on You Tube - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB7ng-... – at your own peril. I just did, managing in the process to re-traumatize myself.
Fire scared me so badly that I required a working fire extinguisher in my room, along with one of those reflective diamond-shaped Child Inside decals on my window. (Those stickers are no longer available, because they might as well say: Pedophiles, Enter Here).
Eventually, I got over fire. It happened one night when a blockage in our chimney erupted into flames. My mom pulled me out of bed and I crawled on my hands and knees through thick smoke. We waited for the fire department in our minivan, parked out on the street. The damage was minimal, but my turnaround complete. I became obsessed with firemen. I had Lego fire trucks and Playmobil fire trucks and Micro-Machine fire trucks and I loved wearing a raincoat and helmet and pretending to be a fire fighter. For awhile, I set aside John Wayne cowboy movies and began watching The Towering Inferno and Emergency! reruns. I might be one of the few people who gets intensely nostalgic viewing Backdraft. At our cabin in northern Minnesota, my brother and I would pull burning firebrands from the campfire, lighting small blazes that we would then extinguish. And that is the story of how we burned down the North Woods. Just kidding.
My final childhood phobia – and the one that was most intense – was tornadoes. Again, I have an early memory, fragmented like a broken mirror. Our basement. The furnace and hot water heater. Blankets on linoleum. The far-away wail of civil-defense sirens. The crackle of a battery-operated radio. There was a lengthy period of my life during which I’d get physically ill watching the first twenty minutes of The Wizard of Oz.
As with fire, I eventually got over my near-crippling fear. As with fire, it happened through experience. When I was a Boy Scout, I lived through a tornado that touched down near our campsite. We huddled in a tent screaming with a kind of euphoria as lighting pulsed and branches and trees crashed outside. Looking back, I think I was more giddy than frightened.
Unlike fire, the fascination of which I outgrew, I am still drawn to tornadoes. If a storm is approaching, I’m smart enough to worry; but I also have an intense fascination. It isn’t terror that paralyzes me any more – it’s wonderment.
Many people feel the same way.
There is an entire sub-industry of thrill seekers and meteorologists (many of them suspiciously attractive) who earn their keep chasing tornadoes. Some of them have tricked-out vehicles stuffed with instrumentation and computers. Some of them have old Chevy Blazers and smart phones. All of them are plying the highways and backroads of Tornado Alley, waiting for the next cyclone to appear.
I picked up Lee Sandlin’s Storm Kings: The Untold History of America’s First Tornado Chasers in the misbegotten belief that I was going to discover the antecedents to today’s tornado hunters. I imagined that I’d be reading about a cowboy-slash-weatherman named Hank Bucktooth, his trusty old horse Wildfire, and the covered wagon named Lightning Strikes Twice that Hank used to chase twisters across the plains of a post-Civil War Kansas.
Perhaps my hopes were too high.
There is no Hank Bucktooth, no trusty horse or covered wagon. There are, unfortunately, very few twisters.
Storm Kings is a light, mostly non-technical, breezy* history of weather in America. It begins in meandering fashion with Ben Franklin and his experiments with lightning and a key. I read this section with a bit of impatience, waiting for things to start sucking.**
*Yeah, that was intentional.
**In the sense that the tornadoes would arrive and – you know – start sucking things up.
Then the book segues into a long, somewhat tiresome middle section devoted to the so-called “Storm Wars.” This was a conflict within the scientific community (I use the term scientific quite loosely, since many weather researchers were self-taught amateurs) over the cause, makeup, and behavior of tornadoes. Sandlin thoroughly documents the different players and their different perspectives and their surprisingly vitriolic differences. However, none of that really stuck in my mind.
Tornadoes are visceral. They are raw and powerful and unstoppable. They evoke strong emotions. In comparison, the recounting of 19th century weather arguments – waged over decades with lectures (!) and pamphlets(!) – is stiflingly pedantic. James Espy, William Ferrell, Robert Hare, and William Redfield were each important – in their own special, sometimes nearly forgotten way – in advancing our knowledge of storms. Yet it is doubtful that most of them ever even witnessed a tornado. (Sandlin includes a funny anecdote of Theodore Fujita, the man who created the Fujita Scale of tornado destructiveness, finally witnessing his first live tornado in 1982, at the age of 62).
The descriptions of actual tornadoes are few and far between. And when they arrive, they are far too brief. Despite the inclusion of a large map of the tornado-victimized town of Irving, Kansas, the description of that disaster is done in a matter of pages. Sandlin does a pretty good job dramatizing the Peshtigo disaster, but even that struck me as sort of odd; I consider Peshtigo a fire disaster, not a tornado disaster (firestorms, of course, create their own weather).
There is nothing wrong with this passage. To the contrary, it is quite good. Sandlin is a very talented writer, with a conversational style and smooth, at times vivid prose. The problem is the lack of focus on what should be your main character: the tornadoes. Sandlin’s narrative has the randomness of a tornado’s track. For long stretches you will be reading about something that is vaguely interesting (a cursory history of the National Weather Service, for instance) but certainly not the reason you picked up this book in the first place. Then there will be a quick, jolting section detailing a tornado touchdown. Your interest will perk and then… Back to some elaboration about a random guy’s wacky theory about weather prediction.
To put it plain: there is nothing half as vital or intense in Storm Kings as there is in Ivy Ruckman’s YA classic Night of the Twisters, about the 1980 Grand Island tornadoes.
Several years ago, Omaha was hit by a severe storm (marked by ridiculous straight-line winds) that upended trees, lifted roofs, and knocked out power for weeks. It was a big enough storm to briefly get us on the national news.
I had just gotten home from work when it rolled in. I saw the clouds coming and I went out on my patio clutching a tumbler of Jack-and-Diet-Pepsi.*** The air got very still and the leaves showed their silver sides and the clouds had a queasy cast to them that showed they meant business. When the wind came, it exploded across the earth. My patio furniture tumbled. My neighbor’s tree split at the crotch and came down across his roof. The air tore at my clothing and tried to steal my drink. Despite the intensity, I was rooted in place. Held, almost, in awe. It was only when my patio light exploded overhead that I retreated inside.
***Because I am endlessly classy. And maybe an alcoholic.
We can go to the moon and go to the ocean floor. We have managed to shrink the earth’s distances down to a plane flight or a phone call. We have tamed so much of our world. But we are still at the mercy of Nature. Especially tornadoes. Despite modern meteorology, the Doppler radar and the Weather Channel, we still can’t perfectly predict when a tornado will drop down and wreak havoc.
Thus, the weather must instill in us a certain sense of wonder and respect and yes, some fear. Storm Kings is so intent on pedagogical exchanges between fussy old weathermen that it misses out on this crucial element of an elemental force.
My second great fear was fire. This started after viewing the “very special” episode of Webster called Burn-Out. You can view this episode on You Tube - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB7ng-... – at your own peril. I just did, managing in the process to re-traumatize myself.
Fire scared me so badly that I required a working fire extinguisher in my room, along with one of those reflective diamond-shaped Child Inside decals on my window. (Those stickers are no longer available, because they might as well say: Pedophiles, Enter Here).
Eventually, I got over fire. It happened one night when a blockage in our chimney erupted into flames. My mom pulled me out of bed and I crawled on my hands and knees through thick smoke. We waited for the fire department in our minivan, parked out on the street. The damage was minimal, but my turnaround complete. I became obsessed with firemen. I had Lego fire trucks and Playmobil fire trucks and Micro-Machine fire trucks and I loved wearing a raincoat and helmet and pretending to be a fire fighter. For awhile, I set aside John Wayne cowboy movies and began watching The Towering Inferno and Emergency! reruns. I might be one of the few people who gets intensely nostalgic viewing Backdraft. At our cabin in northern Minnesota, my brother and I would pull burning firebrands from the campfire, lighting small blazes that we would then extinguish. And that is the story of how we burned down the North Woods. Just kidding.
My final childhood phobia – and the one that was most intense – was tornadoes. Again, I have an early memory, fragmented like a broken mirror. Our basement. The furnace and hot water heater. Blankets on linoleum. The far-away wail of civil-defense sirens. The crackle of a battery-operated radio. There was a lengthy period of my life during which I’d get physically ill watching the first twenty minutes of The Wizard of Oz.
As with fire, I eventually got over my near-crippling fear. As with fire, it happened through experience. When I was a Boy Scout, I lived through a tornado that touched down near our campsite. We huddled in a tent screaming with a kind of euphoria as lighting pulsed and branches and trees crashed outside. Looking back, I think I was more giddy than frightened.
Unlike fire, the fascination of which I outgrew, I am still drawn to tornadoes. If a storm is approaching, I’m smart enough to worry; but I also have an intense fascination. It isn’t terror that paralyzes me any more – it’s wonderment.
Many people feel the same way.
There is an entire sub-industry of thrill seekers and meteorologists (many of them suspiciously attractive) who earn their keep chasing tornadoes. Some of them have tricked-out vehicles stuffed with instrumentation and computers. Some of them have old Chevy Blazers and smart phones. All of them are plying the highways and backroads of Tornado Alley, waiting for the next cyclone to appear.
I picked up Lee Sandlin’s Storm Kings: The Untold History of America’s First Tornado Chasers in the misbegotten belief that I was going to discover the antecedents to today’s tornado hunters. I imagined that I’d be reading about a cowboy-slash-weatherman named Hank Bucktooth, his trusty old horse Wildfire, and the covered wagon named Lightning Strikes Twice that Hank used to chase twisters across the plains of a post-Civil War Kansas.
Perhaps my hopes were too high.
There is no Hank Bucktooth, no trusty horse or covered wagon. There are, unfortunately, very few twisters.
Storm Kings is a light, mostly non-technical, breezy* history of weather in America. It begins in meandering fashion with Ben Franklin and his experiments with lightning and a key. I read this section with a bit of impatience, waiting for things to start sucking.**
*Yeah, that was intentional.
**In the sense that the tornadoes would arrive and – you know – start sucking things up.
Then the book segues into a long, somewhat tiresome middle section devoted to the so-called “Storm Wars.” This was a conflict within the scientific community (I use the term scientific quite loosely, since many weather researchers were self-taught amateurs) over the cause, makeup, and behavior of tornadoes. Sandlin thoroughly documents the different players and their different perspectives and their surprisingly vitriolic differences. However, none of that really stuck in my mind.
Tornadoes are visceral. They are raw and powerful and unstoppable. They evoke strong emotions. In comparison, the recounting of 19th century weather arguments – waged over decades with lectures (!) and pamphlets(!) – is stiflingly pedantic. James Espy, William Ferrell, Robert Hare, and William Redfield were each important – in their own special, sometimes nearly forgotten way – in advancing our knowledge of storms. Yet it is doubtful that most of them ever even witnessed a tornado. (Sandlin includes a funny anecdote of Theodore Fujita, the man who created the Fujita Scale of tornado destructiveness, finally witnessing his first live tornado in 1982, at the age of 62).
The descriptions of actual tornadoes are few and far between. And when they arrive, they are far too brief. Despite the inclusion of a large map of the tornado-victimized town of Irving, Kansas, the description of that disaster is done in a matter of pages. Sandlin does a pretty good job dramatizing the Peshtigo disaster, but even that struck me as sort of odd; I consider Peshtigo a fire disaster, not a tornado disaster (firestorms, of course, create their own weather).
The tornado roared through the heart of the fire zone to the northwest. It sucked in flames from the surrounding air and drew them up through the funnel so that by the time it reached Peshtigo, it appeared as a gigantic funnel cloud of fire extending up from the burning forests to the sky. Its heat was so intense that everything around it instantly exploded. In the town, every house was whirled upward into a spiral of sparkling fire; grain elevators vanished as though they’d been made of paper; steam locomotives in the rail yard levitated off their tracks and smashed together in midair. Around the tornado funnel there was a swirling swarm of burning debris that came raining down in firebombs and avalanches of scalding rubble. There was also something else. The survivors called them fire balloons. These were strange black spheres, each about ten feet across, that came floating out of the upper reaches of the funnel. They descended randomly on the surrounding countryside, where they exploded into fire. One witness saw a fire balloon land on a family fleeing in a horse-drawn wagon; the balloon touched down on them, burst like a soap bubble, and engulfed the wagon in flames. No one survived.
There is nothing wrong with this passage. To the contrary, it is quite good. Sandlin is a very talented writer, with a conversational style and smooth, at times vivid prose. The problem is the lack of focus on what should be your main character: the tornadoes. Sandlin’s narrative has the randomness of a tornado’s track. For long stretches you will be reading about something that is vaguely interesting (a cursory history of the National Weather Service, for instance) but certainly not the reason you picked up this book in the first place. Then there will be a quick, jolting section detailing a tornado touchdown. Your interest will perk and then… Back to some elaboration about a random guy’s wacky theory about weather prediction.
To put it plain: there is nothing half as vital or intense in Storm Kings as there is in Ivy Ruckman’s YA classic Night of the Twisters, about the 1980 Grand Island tornadoes.
Several years ago, Omaha was hit by a severe storm (marked by ridiculous straight-line winds) that upended trees, lifted roofs, and knocked out power for weeks. It was a big enough storm to briefly get us on the national news.
I had just gotten home from work when it rolled in. I saw the clouds coming and I went out on my patio clutching a tumbler of Jack-and-Diet-Pepsi.*** The air got very still and the leaves showed their silver sides and the clouds had a queasy cast to them that showed they meant business. When the wind came, it exploded across the earth. My patio furniture tumbled. My neighbor’s tree split at the crotch and came down across his roof. The air tore at my clothing and tried to steal my drink. Despite the intensity, I was rooted in place. Held, almost, in awe. It was only when my patio light exploded overhead that I retreated inside.
***Because I am endlessly classy. And maybe an alcoholic.
We can go to the moon and go to the ocean floor. We have managed to shrink the earth’s distances down to a plane flight or a phone call. We have tamed so much of our world. But we are still at the mercy of Nature. Especially tornadoes. Despite modern meteorology, the Doppler radar and the Weather Channel, we still can’t perfectly predict when a tornado will drop down and wreak havoc.
Thus, the weather must instill in us a certain sense of wonder and respect and yes, some fear. Storm Kings is so intent on pedagogical exchanges between fussy old weathermen that it misses out on this crucial element of an elemental force.
March 20, 2013
The title of this book is misleading. This isn't a history of tornado chasers. More like a history of how we as a nation understand tornadoes. It is still a good read. Some of the chapters get bogged down in things that have nothing to do with tornadoes but other chapters like the fire tornado in Wisconsin were riveting.
July 6, 2024
Amazing. I was a week late in getting this one read for my twister podcast episode and that makes me so incredibly sad. This book was fantastic! One of my 2024 favorites for sure.
April 6, 2013
I really wanted to like this book a lot more than I did as it combines two of my life-long passions- history and weather. There are interesting bits to the book, but they are buried by great, gigantic slow swaths of the book that brought this reader's interest to a grinding halt.
I almost stopped reading about halfway through when the 19th century weather war between three early tornado researchers reached it's third or fourth decade of pamphlets, tracts and letters.
This should have been right up my alley....but wasn't.
I almost stopped reading about halfway through when the 19th century weather war between three early tornado researchers reached it's third or fourth decade of pamphlets, tracts and letters.
This should have been right up my alley....but wasn't.
June 26, 2024
This was a lot more fun and engaging than you might expect… and also I love any author that takes a side tangent to talk shit about L Frank Baum so it got a whole extra star from me for that
December 23, 2017
Great book, well-written, exhaustively researched. Sandlin creates portraits-in-prose of the interesting, often-quirky people who were the first to study tornadoes. Fascinating, well-worth the read.
February 11, 2014
Not the best storm book I've ever read. I was expecting more of a "storm description & what it taught early meteorologists" format; instead, I got a book that really did neither. There are lengthy repetitive sections describing the "warring factions" in the schools of thought that founded the basis of modern meteorology. Much is written of public politics that guided the discourse between Espy & Renfield, Hazen & Finley---and more than I ever wanted to know about the birth of the Army Signal Corps. The brief passages detailing storms, and the chapter devoted to Ted Fujita are the book's 2 saving graces.
July 16, 2018
I was astounded to learn that, until the 1800's, tornadoes weren't scientifically recognized as real. The were sort of urban legends - water spouts were known, but land versions were sort of back-engineered - if water spouts exist, we should see them on land.
Said Benjamin "drop the mic" Franklin.
Yes, like all science of the 18th century that involves the new world, the story of tornadoes goes straight through Master Franklin.
He never called them "tornadoes," though - that term was for general storms and was probably a capricious mashup, by British sailors, of a couple of other Spanish sailor terms for weather.
Tornadoes at that time were called - well, they weren't, not by Europeans. And the first nations of the American continent weren't listened to, so we had this situation where these totally real things were just known by vague stories, and Franklin surmised that these water spouts probably had land counterparts and scoured old weather reports and...
You know what? Read the book. It's good.
And you'll be stunned how late it was that the nature and mechanism of tornadoes was actually understood.
Said Benjamin "drop the mic" Franklin.
Yes, like all science of the 18th century that involves the new world, the story of tornadoes goes straight through Master Franklin.
He never called them "tornadoes," though - that term was for general storms and was probably a capricious mashup, by British sailors, of a couple of other Spanish sailor terms for weather.
Tornadoes at that time were called - well, they weren't, not by Europeans. And the first nations of the American continent weren't listened to, so we had this situation where these totally real things were just known by vague stories, and Franklin surmised that these water spouts probably had land counterparts and scoured old weather reports and...
You know what? Read the book. It's good.
And you'll be stunned how late it was that the nature and mechanism of tornadoes was actually understood.
May 17, 2021
Interesting history about the trailblazers who established modern meteorology especially the tornado phenomenon. As the USA spread westwards and greater settlement of the Great Plains took place so did the research on tornadic research. Decent book but for weather junkies only!
November 12, 2018
Thought I would learn a lot about Tornado Chasers. I learned some, thought I would learn more. Maybe you will feel differently. Enjoy!
June 3, 2015
Review title: Checkered past of whirling winds
Sandlin's account truly does tell an unexpected tale about the history of tornado science in America. Starting with Ben Franklin, the only recognizable name in the history to the casual reader and one of the few who approached the topic with both an open mind and a scientific bent, the story spins downhill through bad science, lucky guesswork, bitter personal feuds, loud public pronouncements, and even worse unlucky and unfortunate guesswork.
After Franklin's promising start (while wrong on much of the science, he at least approached it with an empirical mindset) based on his electrical research with the fabled kite and key, work on tornados went dark for many years. Amazingly, for many of those years even the existence of tornados was questioned; the few eyewitness accounts from the small and widely-scattered population in the most prone areas of the midwest were ignored, discounted or explained away.
Then an 1835 storm in New Jersey attracted both professional researchers and amateur onlookers to study and theorize about what had caused such damage and what had caused the "so-called tornado" itself. Now entered the field James Espy, an amateur, Robert Hare, a professional scientist, and William Redfield, yet another amateur and businessman. Each offered a different theory about the cause of the storm and of tornados in general, and in the course of time and through very public disputes became bitter enemies as each defended his view in denigration of the others. The tragedy, writes Sandlin, was that scientists would eventually find that each had uncovered a part of the complex science of tornado formation, so that if they had ovefcome their personal and professional differences they might have contributed to better understanding of tornados and how to forecast and survive them generations earlier.
Over time in Sandlin's account, even as the science advances, we find that the field remains the province of many decidedly unique and difficult personalities, leading Sandlin to speculate whether it is the subject itself that attracts the solitary and unsociable personality. Eventually the science began to unpeel some of (but even today not all) the mystery of the tornado. From 1954, when the first book dedicated solely to study of tornadoes in the 20th century was published, to today, when storm chasers are reality TV stars and adventure tour guides, we have learned much about these monsters of meteorology, and have even become able to identify weather patterns well enough to provide usable forecasts to help save lives.
While the history makes for fun fast reading, it isn't much value for research. There is no index or footnotes, just bibliographical footnotes by section. Still, for the popular science reader it is deep enough and interesting enough to satisfy the curious mind and perhaps stir the amateur meteorologist to their own bitterly-defended theory of tornados.
Sandlin's account truly does tell an unexpected tale about the history of tornado science in America. Starting with Ben Franklin, the only recognizable name in the history to the casual reader and one of the few who approached the topic with both an open mind and a scientific bent, the story spins downhill through bad science, lucky guesswork, bitter personal feuds, loud public pronouncements, and even worse unlucky and unfortunate guesswork.
After Franklin's promising start (while wrong on much of the science, he at least approached it with an empirical mindset) based on his electrical research with the fabled kite and key, work on tornados went dark for many years. Amazingly, for many of those years even the existence of tornados was questioned; the few eyewitness accounts from the small and widely-scattered population in the most prone areas of the midwest were ignored, discounted or explained away.
Then an 1835 storm in New Jersey attracted both professional researchers and amateur onlookers to study and theorize about what had caused such damage and what had caused the "so-called tornado" itself. Now entered the field James Espy, an amateur, Robert Hare, a professional scientist, and William Redfield, yet another amateur and businessman. Each offered a different theory about the cause of the storm and of tornados in general, and in the course of time and through very public disputes became bitter enemies as each defended his view in denigration of the others. The tragedy, writes Sandlin, was that scientists would eventually find that each had uncovered a part of the complex science of tornado formation, so that if they had ovefcome their personal and professional differences they might have contributed to better understanding of tornados and how to forecast and survive them generations earlier.
Over time in Sandlin's account, even as the science advances, we find that the field remains the province of many decidedly unique and difficult personalities, leading Sandlin to speculate whether it is the subject itself that attracts the solitary and unsociable personality. Eventually the science began to unpeel some of (but even today not all) the mystery of the tornado. From 1954, when the first book dedicated solely to study of tornadoes in the 20th century was published, to today, when storm chasers are reality TV stars and adventure tour guides, we have learned much about these monsters of meteorology, and have even become able to identify weather patterns well enough to provide usable forecasts to help save lives.
While the history makes for fun fast reading, it isn't much value for research. There is no index or footnotes, just bibliographical footnotes by section. Still, for the popular science reader it is deep enough and interesting enough to satisfy the curious mind and perhaps stir the amateur meteorologist to their own bitterly-defended theory of tornados.
September 1, 2013
Storm Kings: The Untold History of America’s First Tornado Chaser by Lee Sandlin
★★★★
I can’t help it. I have always been fascinated with natural disasters and the history surrounding them. It sounds morbid perhaps but I always find myself pulled to the hows and the whys of it all. This book did not disappoint on feeding my curiosity on tornadoes and the history of those who have “chased” them to give us the information we know today. I thought the whole book was interesting, some more so than others. Sometimes I felt that while back information was needed that the author went a tad bit more off topic than necessary sometimes but it always came back around to where it needed to so I commend him for that (I’ve read so many history books where the author gets of topic and never seems to actually get back into it, leaving one hanging.) Lee Sandin did quite a bit of research and delved into many books and first-hand accounts to get the details and it was quite educational from beginning to end. Only the epilog delves into the chasers that we know today (those crazy people who drive around in search of destructive tornadoes, putting themselves into grave danger in the name of science) but there is so much history and people that made the knowledge of tornadoes known and no doubt there is much more to learn on the natural phenomenon. A fairly short (260ish pages) and fun read if one enjoys history and science.
★★★★
I can’t help it. I have always been fascinated with natural disasters and the history surrounding them. It sounds morbid perhaps but I always find myself pulled to the hows and the whys of it all. This book did not disappoint on feeding my curiosity on tornadoes and the history of those who have “chased” them to give us the information we know today. I thought the whole book was interesting, some more so than others. Sometimes I felt that while back information was needed that the author went a tad bit more off topic than necessary sometimes but it always came back around to where it needed to so I commend him for that (I’ve read so many history books where the author gets of topic and never seems to actually get back into it, leaving one hanging.) Lee Sandin did quite a bit of research and delved into many books and first-hand accounts to get the details and it was quite educational from beginning to end. Only the epilog delves into the chasers that we know today (those crazy people who drive around in search of destructive tornadoes, putting themselves into grave danger in the name of science) but there is so much history and people that made the knowledge of tornadoes known and no doubt there is much more to learn on the natural phenomenon. A fairly short (260ish pages) and fun read if one enjoys history and science.
June 9, 2014
I have been fascinated by the weather my entire life. In particular, tornadoes have captured my attention since I was 5. This was only further fueled when I experienced a tornado when I was 10. So, this book naturally had great appeal to me. I also enjoy reading about history, so a book on the history of studying tornadoes and thunderstorms was sure to be a hit -- and it was. This starts with the early interest of scientists like Ben Franklin in electricity, and moves through time to the work of Fujita. Towards the end of the book there are a couple of chapters that drag on and contain more information about the lives of the scientists than it does their actual work, so I feel like some of the later chapters could have been edited down and consolidated. For this I deduct a star. Really though it's more of a 4.5. This book is definitely worth your time reading.
April 9, 2016
3.5 stars
This book starts back in the 17th Century with Puritan Increase Mather's record-keeping of storms. Next, it forwards to Benjamin Franklin and his studies as a “natural philosopher” and what he learned about storms and the weather. The book continues forward in time, focusing on various people who had a particular interest in studying storms and the weather, up until the storm chasers of today.
It was good, interesting. I love storms, so I have to admit that the descriptions of the various storms were more interesting than the science (though I am sometimes ok with the science, as well). It was definitely interesting to read about what people thought a few hundred years ago. I thought the whole “natural philosophy” was interesting.
This book starts back in the 17th Century with Puritan Increase Mather's record-keeping of storms. Next, it forwards to Benjamin Franklin and his studies as a “natural philosopher” and what he learned about storms and the weather. The book continues forward in time, focusing on various people who had a particular interest in studying storms and the weather, up until the storm chasers of today.
It was good, interesting. I love storms, so I have to admit that the descriptions of the various storms were more interesting than the science (though I am sometimes ok with the science, as well). It was definitely interesting to read about what people thought a few hundred years ago. I thought the whole “natural philosophy” was interesting.
May 26, 2013
This book is fascinating--it begins with Ben Franklin and goes on through the 1970s with the history of trying to figure out and forecast tornadoes. I LOVE storms, so this book was a lovely adventure for me. I was very surprised to learn about the decades long debate about whether tornadoes even existed, plus many, many other interesting things. There is a bit of science involved in this book, but a layperson like myself can follow along fairly easily. And the stories of tornadoes and their antics will haunt you and have you watching the sky more often than not. Truly a superb book. I absolutely recommend it for those curious about such things or who just love a good history book.
February 28, 2013
There are some stretches of this title that seem tangential to the point of the title, and some portions are bogged down by considerable detail. It possibly could have benefited from some finer editing in these parts. But these quibbles aside, Sandlin's title covers a little known part of scientific history, has some memorable characters and, for this reader especially, highlights the sometimes chaotic methods of studying tornadoes. Entertaining and informative, along the lines of Erik Larson's Isaac's Storm.
March 14, 2020
As previously noted, the subtitle to this book is misleading. My guess is that it was the publisher's decision. But, I'm glad that this book is not about actual storm chasers but budding meteorologists who sometimes never even saw a tornado in their life.
Every two chapters, the book essentially moves onto another meteorologist who moved tornado science further. I liked the chapters on Benjamin Franklin and John Finley in particular as well as the chapter on the Peshtigo Fire Tornado. If you're like me, captivated by both history and tornadoes, this book will scratch an itch.
Every two chapters, the book essentially moves onto another meteorologist who moved tornado science further. I liked the chapters on Benjamin Franklin and John Finley in particular as well as the chapter on the Peshtigo Fire Tornado. If you're like me, captivated by both history and tornadoes, this book will scratch an itch.
July 10, 2024
This book gives a very interesting history of people's first documented encounters with tornadoes, the fledgling weather service and meteorology as a science, and mini biographies of some major players in the US Army Signal Corps and other weather services. I learned some interesting facts from this book, and I would strongly recommend this for anyone who is interested in weather. This book is currently free to listen to on Audible Plus, which is where I listened.
May 29, 2013
Really well-written and much of it was interesting, but there were some parts of the book that didn't hold my attention. Still, the book was pretty good and I would recommend it to those interested in tornadoes. The stories about the fire tornado were the most interesting to me.
August 3, 2024
One of the best books I’ve ever read! I want to read everything this man has written. Any similar books with similar writing styles- please send my way!! I don’t even like non fiction and this is now my favorite. Absolutely adore it.
May 29, 2025
ten years later, I still love this book. an excellent springtime read
January 10, 2021
"At some point during that evening, the temperature in the hottest zone outside Peshtigo spiked upward to at least fifteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit. That was hot enough to make the surrounding forest erupt by spontaneous combustion. A gigantic convection column swept upward and began drawing the surrounding air toward the heart of the fire at speeds approaching two hundred miles an hour. As the flames and heat roared up the convection column, the pyrocumulus cloud formed just as Espy had predicted. But the heat was so intense and destabilizing that the cloud immediately evolved into a monstrous new form: a pyrocumulonimbus. Torrential rains began falling from the cloud, most of which immediately flashed away as steam. But their downdrafts were sufficiently stable and powerful to cause a self-sustaining thunderstorm to form, and in the midst of this storm a tornado appeared."
I mostly read this for research, but it was really interesting. Sandlin is very good at creating character studies of the various scientists who studied severe weather, and there are some really vivid descriptions of some major storms. The only reason this isn't rated higher is because I read this book thinking it was going to be more about the actual people/meteorologists on the ground actually chasing after the tornadoes, and this was more about the men who devised the methodology behind the storms themselves. It was really interesting, just not exactly what I signed up for.
I mostly read this for research, but it was really interesting. Sandlin is very good at creating character studies of the various scientists who studied severe weather, and there are some really vivid descriptions of some major storms. The only reason this isn't rated higher is because I read this book thinking it was going to be more about the actual people/meteorologists on the ground actually chasing after the tornadoes, and this was more about the men who devised the methodology behind the storms themselves. It was really interesting, just not exactly what I signed up for.
April 23, 2022
Honestly, I was expecting this to be a version of the movie, "Twister", all about storm chasers who drove their trains of cars down Kansas highways, searching for a glimpse of a tornado to try to learn more about them. This book is not really that at all. Those kinds of storm chasers are mentioned in the Epilogue, but most of the book is really dating back way farther than that. It tells of accounts told by Native America tribes of giant “clouds with red eyes shining from inside,” Benjamin Franklin and his interest in weather - not just lightning, and many other accounts of witnesses to super storms that caused devastating damage. The book does talk about how meteorology, or the study of the atmosphere, began, as well as several documented storms throughout the known history of The United States. for example: the tri-state tornado of 1926, which travelled for 215 miles, killing over 900 people: the most deadly tornado to date. Or the “super outbreak” of 1974, when over 150 tornadoes touched down from a single storm system causing devastation from Illinois all the way to the east coast: The worst single tornado even in US history. I sometimes get bored in nonfiction books, but I found this one to be very, very interesting and engaging the whole time. Give it a try if this topic interests you at all!
April 30, 2023
I found the history of meteorology presented in this book fascinating. There was a lot I didn't know, and I don't regret the time I spent reading it. It was also an easy read, Sandlin's style accessible and reader-friendly.
That said, I was expecting an actual history of storm chasing itself and I didn't feel like it ever really did that. I had high hopes in the early pages where Sandlin relates the story of Ben Franklin attempting to chase a tornado on horseback, but then the book went into more of the pursuit of tornado understanding/science. That pursuit of understanding is the actual main focus of the book.
I think this book suffers from a poor tagline and maybe even a poor summary. If I'd gone into it expecting it to be a history of meteorology as it related to tornadoes, I would've been 100% satisfied. It is, after all, a fascinating history and a really great examination of how various biases can hold our species back in our pursuit of knowledge.
That said, I was expecting an actual history of storm chasing itself and I didn't feel like it ever really did that. I had high hopes in the early pages where Sandlin relates the story of Ben Franklin attempting to chase a tornado on horseback, but then the book went into more of the pursuit of tornado understanding/science. That pursuit of understanding is the actual main focus of the book.
I think this book suffers from a poor tagline and maybe even a poor summary. If I'd gone into it expecting it to be a history of meteorology as it related to tornadoes, I would've been 100% satisfied. It is, after all, a fascinating history and a really great examination of how various biases can hold our species back in our pursuit of knowledge.
October 21, 2021
Quite a fascinating history, and the affection and attention the author gave to many of the people in the history of storm study was equally interesting. Who knew violent storms drew such colorful experts, or that the science of storms could be so contentious? The reader (Andrew Garman) did a wonderful job, including when physical description was needed, but I do feel I lost just a little by listening when I could have had the book in hand, as I'm certain there would have been pictures and diagrams to accompany the text. However, even while some parts of this book do strive for scientific description and would certainly have been aided by some diagrams, the focus is still squarely on the history of tornado meteorology, and the description was almost always enough for me to visualize. The Story of the science takes center stage, and holds interest very well!
December 13, 2025
3+
Nicely readable and approachable, not rigorous. Definitely popsci but that's just fine.
This is more of a survey and doesn't get in depth on either tornadoes themselves or any one of the people through time who studied them. That's also fine.
Go in expecting that and the book does exactly what it promises and is enjoyable at that. Wanting something more along the lines of deep science or detailed biographies and you might be disappointed.
I think my experience was helped by how long I've been interested in tornadoes and weather generally, growing up around twisters, and the documentaries and other writing I've sought out about them. So a lot of the events and names were familiar to me--although I didn't find this to be a retread.
Great evening by the fireside reading. Hit a good spot between held my interest but didn't have to be closely studied to be understood.
Nicely readable and approachable, not rigorous. Definitely popsci but that's just fine.
This is more of a survey and doesn't get in depth on either tornadoes themselves or any one of the people through time who studied them. That's also fine.
Go in expecting that and the book does exactly what it promises and is enjoyable at that. Wanting something more along the lines of deep science or detailed biographies and you might be disappointed.
I think my experience was helped by how long I've been interested in tornadoes and weather generally, growing up around twisters, and the documentaries and other writing I've sought out about them. So a lot of the events and names were familiar to me--although I didn't find this to be a retread.
Great evening by the fireside reading. Hit a good spot between held my interest but didn't have to be closely studied to be understood.
January 3, 2025
Storm Kings was at turns fascinating, irritating and dull. I found myself oscillating wildly between whether I was enjoying the read or was slogging through tedium. According to this book, most of the pioneers of tornado research were petty, closed minded and childish and I got very tired of the chapters-long details about feuds and lifetime grudges. I did love all the details about early America, and what it was like when it was still wilderness. I also learned about a number of major weather events which I had not previously heard of. I look forward to researching more about them. I did enjoy Sandlin’s descriptive writing style and his attention to detail but I do wish he had focused more on the science and weather events and less on the political machinations of the players.
June 21, 2021
As others have said, the title is a bit misleading as this book devotes a lot more detail to the science and research of tornadoes rather than "the chase." But still, I found this to be a fascinating read – it really puts into perspective just how recent a lot of meteorological advancements are. Some portions of this book almost feel like fiction, as Sandlin takes great care to vividly describe weather events, showcase human drama/conflict, and chronicle the eccentric lives of the scientists he features. Some readers might find it a bit tedious at times, but I found it completely immersive.
September 5, 2025
To think that the sirens, weather alerts, and advanced notice that is so commonplace in our modern world are barely a few decades old was mind blowing! I grew up running to the basement every time our volunteer fire station rang the siren for powerful thunderstorms, and today my phone and those of everyone around me blares with that obnoxious warning. I had no idea how unlikely these warnings were even for just my grandparents’ era. I particularly liked the theory of “tornado traps” using dynamite to disrupt and disperse the winds 🤦🏻♀️
Fascinating read!
Fascinating read!
Displaying 1 - 30 of 100 reviews