“Let’s talk about the weather,” said Greg Johnson in his opening remarks to an audience of over 300 people attending the annual Farmers’ Appreciation Day dinner at Days Inn Plaza on March 11.
The internationally recognized leader in the tornado and storm chasing game, provided some adrenaline-lifting photographic examples of his work that has taken him all over North America in pursuit of game changing storms.
It seemed at first to be a crazy way to earn a living, but Johnson said after he learned he was not destined to be an NHL referee, he had to seek options.
“I moved from Ontario to Saskatchewan to referee Western Hockey League games, and while I was here, I got the call that suggested I was never going to be an NHL referee,” he said, adding that in the meantime, he had fallen in love with the province and has since taken up residence with his wife and their family of four.
He had always been intrigued with photography, so he turned to it for his alternate career and his first assignment was for the 鶹Ƶeast Tourism Association, which brought him to Estevan again.
He’s been telling the story with photographs ever since. Photos take a lead role in everyone’s “scrapbook of their lives.” He pointed out that through every tragic event, it always seems that people grab for those precious photographs they have of loved ones or past family members, to try to save. “The microwave is not the first thing they grab,” he said.
He said in every town in North America “there is always a hall, a general meeting place, and there are always pictures on the wall of something or someone important to that place,” he said.
Johnson said grappling with emotions as tornados are tracked through communities where homes and businesses end up flying into the air, can be profound with some of his photos taking on the “creep factor,” which he showed to his audience of a storm that razed a small town in Nebraska.
Rebuilding those communities is also a cause he tracks on a regular basis, noting how he has returned to one small town in Missouri on a yearly basis to witness its rebuilding process and the resiliency of its storm survivors.
Johnson said he was inspired by his grandfather George Johnson who continued to bicycle across regions and countries well past his 87th birthday. In fact he only quit riding his bike after reaching the age of 91. Johnson displayed his grandfather’s journal, highlighting the scribbling on the big screen, that indicated that at the age of 87, George had cycled 90 kilometres in one day while in New Zealand.
Johnson said he is always asked why he takes risks, and he noted that every profession has risk. He pointed out how the Farm Family of the Year award winners had talked about risk when they first seeded soybeans. He said there are always risks “of the heart and mind. All good stuff involves risk, but like my grandfather, I believe in living every day with a purpose.”
Johnson said he was thrilled to be asked to tour for almost one year with one of his heroes, Rick Hansen, and happy to see how Hansen had taken to his family, even doing wheelchair wheelies with his daughter.
“There is a difference between taking risk and being reckless. Rick taught me that, and he’s a guy who rolled around the world twice. I chase storms and get where I need to be maybe, two dozen times a year,” he said.
With a fortified truck and a strong-willed team that includes an emergency medical technician and firstaid equipment, Johnson said the team is rarely caught in a bad position, but to get the top-rated photos, they often have to be close to the cyclone effects of storms that lift two-tonne hay bales and semi-trailer trucks into the air. He has photographic proof of that, including a mind-bending video of swirling clouds in the midst of a tornado.
“When I started, it was a pure adrenaline flow, like the cowboy looking to ride the bigger bull, but in 2012, between Moose Jaw and Swift Current, I caught the moment. We ended up live streaming a tornado that 50,000 people watched in real time, including some television networks. Shortly after there were 200 lightning strikes per minute.”
The economics of storm tracking are part of his profession as he travels all over the United States and Canada leapfrogging tornadoes and other storms that he said, “usually don’t travel all that quickly, maybe 60 to 90 km/h.”
He has photographed the largest tornado ever recorded on Earth, in 2013 in Oklahoma, and has pictured stormcentres that measured more than four kilometres in width.
“A word of advice when caught with a storm coming on, seek shelter in the basement. If you don’t have a basement, the bathtub. In a vehicle, head for the ditch then the wind can’t get under your car and lift you up. And if you’re trying to avoid it, head south, that will take you away from most storm systems.”
The tornado chasers have, on occasion, ended up being the first responders in small towns where everything has been destroyed. He recounted finding a father and three children still in a bathtub, alive, with only scratches, while everything around them was reduced to kindling, and another family trapped in an underground shelter, thankful to see their ad hoc team of rescuers.
Last year’s July 27 storm in southeast Saskatchewan was a big one, with three tornadoes all at once, the largest recorded in 2015, “but nobody was hurt and Environment Canada had a half-hour to issue a warning with seven funnel clouds forming all at once. That storm did give me my National Geographic moment because I sold that picture to them and every photographer wants to get his photo in National Geographic, or the Sports Illustrated Swim Suit edition,” he laughed.
“A tragedy brings a community together and brings help from all over. It’s a fascinating thing, and … save those photos,” he said, in winding up his presentation.
“Build the best legacy you can while you still have time.”