Forecast: It's Complicated

Jem Busse • What a Winter Storm Taught Me About Emergency Management

Growing up in Fort Wayne, Indiana, I thought I understood snow. I’ve seen it all from lake-effect systems, long winters, to roads disappearing overnight. I assumed I had already seen everything a snowstorm could do. So, when forecasts began shifting to show that our county might face its heaviest snow event in recent years, I felt prepared- but this storm had some lessons in store for me.

One of the first lessons came from the forecasting itself. It’s easy to feel pressure to predict snow totals or outcomes faster/more definitively than the National Weather Service. But during this event, I saw how much stronger our response became when we worked with them, not around them. The NWS provided constant updates, context, and clarity, answering questions in real time while conditions shifted. I learned that good local forecasting isn’t about competing with experts: it’s about translating their work into guidance people can actually use.

After that first night when the snow came in, I was so grateful to be at home safe because I was originally supposed to be out of town for training. Looking at what had fallen- I would have certainly gotten stuck in the northern part of our state. I geared up, put on my two layers of sweatpants, and hopped out to a nice flat part of my yard to gather some data. Snow totals aren’t just talking points; they were evidence. Measuring snowfall accurately, documenting conditions, and contributing top climatology data felt important in a deep way. I was representing our county as well as helping it write its climatological history. Data wasn’t abstract anymore but was the record of what our community had just endured.

Then there’s the travel advisories: weather becomes policy and every decision feels heavy. I know that each county in Indiana has a different process for issuing their travel advisories, so it was interesting to witness ours in action. Conversations with the mayor, commissioners, public works, schools, health officials, police, fire and other partners were less about procedure and more about our collective judgment. Each voice added something to the conversation, and it was interesting to hear everyone’s points of view surrounding this situation. I learned that timing isn’t just strategic with these advisories, it’s ethical.

In this new position, I also began to see snowplows differently. With city crews navigating neighborhood streets, county teams covering miles of rural roads, and state operations prioritizing highways: it was organized chaos. It was layered, constrained, human. I realized how much invisible work goes into making our roads passable and how easily that complexity gets flattened into public expectations.

The public response was predictable and unpredictable at the same time. There was kindness, patience, and solidarity from many. There was also frustration, confusion, and anxiety. None of it felt surprising, but all of it felt instructive. With this, I learned that emergency management is also psychological. People don’t experience storms as data points but as disruptions to their lives.

Watching the state Emergency Operations Center activate and conference added another layer of perspective. Seeing how other parts of the state were handling things and hearing updates about resources was really helpful in staying situationally aware. It was both reassuring and sobering for me as a young emergency manager.

In the days following the storm, more impacts began to surface. Prolonged cold temperatures, frost wedging, and aging infrastructure led to several water main breaks across town, cascading into widespread flooding in the downtown area. This included a building that houses critical phone utilities. While it was unsettling to see essential infrastructure affected, the situation ultimately reinforced the core values of mitigation and preparedness. Our dispatch center maintained full coverage, contingency plans worked as intended, and coordinated response efforts meant repairs and restoration were completed within a day. It was a striking reminder that winter storms don’t always end when the snow stops falling and that resilience and planning make a difference.

All things considered, this storm reminded me that forecasting is collaboration, data is memory, and decision-making is a collective act of trust. It taught me that no matter how many harsh winters you’ve lived through, there is always a storm that will teach you something new.