NASHVILLE, Tenn. (AP) — Anyone who has watched an episode of “9-1-1: Nashville” could be forgiven for thinking the city is constantly beset by tornadoes that turn outdoor concerts into scenes of carnage and blow scooter-riding tourists onto the tops of water towers.
That may be a TV exaggeration, but tornadoes and other dangerous storms
do hit the city regularly. When they do, many people here turn to Nashville Severe Weather.This group of dedicated
volunteers can be found on social media, calmly explaining the storm movement, advising when to take cover and giving the “all clear.” The coverage by Will Minkoff, Andrew Leeper and Tom Johnstone draws tens of thousands of viewers who interact with them in real time. It’s a service that evokes the early promise of the internet, before the rise of the influencer.
This is happening at a time when many people no longer watch local news and weather reports. Yet Kevin Trowbridge, who teaches strategic communication at Belmont University in Nashville, says an informal survey of his students found many are tuning in to Nashville Severe Weather.
“The millennials and Gen Z — and teaching college students, I know this all too well — their source of information is that handheld device,” he says. “It’s not turning on a TV. And it’s not even looking at a traditional media outlet’s online presence. It’s finding sources that provide them quick information when they need it.”
The rise of Nashville Severe Weather is a modern case study in multiple areas — a shifting tornado alley, a changing climate, the prevalence of social media and the value of instantaneous, hyperlocal information that can save the day or save lives.
The initiative has evolved over more than a decade from its origins as a Twitter feed and blog. Today, volunteers livestream on their YouTube channel whenever Nashville or surrounding counties face severe weather. Because Leeper, Minkoff and Johnstone all live here, they are facing the same threats as their audience.
“There’s something about Nash Severe Weather that’s different from the hobbyist enthusiast,” Trowbridge says. “I think that’s why people are following them. That’s why they are trusting them. That’s why they’re tuning in and turning to them. ... It is authentic and real.”
Leeper, a church pastor, has a soothing voice and a sign on a shelf behind him that reads “prepared not scared.” He has had to leave the stream to wake up his family and hunker down in their safe space. He did so calmly, modeling the behavior of his motto. After the threat passed, he rejoined the stream.
Katherine Moffat, who works as the executive director of the Tennessee Academy of Physician Assistants, says local TV weather can be “a little over-the-top” when storms are threatening. Nashville Severe Weather, she says, is different.
“They’re a little more calm and telling it to you straight,” she says. “They don’t get people overly excited.”
The need for their service has never been greater. “Tornado Alley” has been shifting from the Midwest plains to states further east, says Johnstone, a meteorologist who joined the group last year after 33 years with the National Weather Service.
“The mid-South, especially down through Alabama, Mississippi, and into Tennessee and western Kentucky, has been where tornadoes have been most frequent ... and people have been dying in the highest numbers,” he says.
Michelle Stewart gets all her weather information via push notifications from Nashville Severe Weather on her phone. It's a service she found invaluable during an ice storm that left much of the city without power or internet service for days.
“They are very informative about, not just what to expect, but how to be prepared, and just giving everybody the lay of the land without it being too science-y. You know, it kind of feels like you’re talking to your neighbor,” says Stewart, a project manager at a healthcare research company. “They are so calming to me during those live events.”
Brett Withers, a former Nashville city councilman who saw two people die in his district during a 2020 tornado that killed 24 people in Tennessee, calls Nashville Severe Weather a “godsend.”
“We have so many people moving to Nashville, and they might move from places where tornadoes are rare, if they ever happen,” he says.
The popularity of Nashville Severe Weather defies much of the received logic about how to build an audience on social media. There's nothing fancy or highly produced about their livestreams. They don't try to play up danger or excitement. They certainly don't try to chase down tornadoes or run around outside in hurricane-force winds.
Their streams are visually dominated by weather radar. Minkoff, Leeper and Johnstone, sometimes joined by other volunteers, each stream from their own homes and appear in little boxes at the bottom or side of the screen. Graphics, when they have them at all, look like they could have been drawn by a 5-year-old.
Take the beloved “Dry Air Monster,” a stick figure with an huge head and chomping Godzilla jaws.
Nashville Severe Weather co-founder David Drobny drew this to explain how dry air could “eat” snow that was headed toward Nashville. In a Southern town that usually sees snow on the ground only a few days each year, many people look forward to it as a mini-vacation. The monster's motto is “No Snow for You.”
Their hyperlocal focus allows Nashville Severe Weather to fill a niche left open by the local TV meteorologists who have to report on dozens of counties.
“One of the things that Nash Severe can do that even the TV stations have trouble doing is really bring it down to intersection level, school level, church level to let people know where the danger and the threat is,” Johnstone says.
Their coverage is a two-way street. Audience members provide photos and video showing on-the-ground conditions and comment in the chat. Nashville Severe Weather shares that information with the National Weather Service and TV meteorologists. They also try to answer people's questions as they stream.
Leeper remembers a day when schoolchildren were sent home because of a tornado threat. When one child commented in the chat about being home alone, his heart sank.
“We just stopped what we were saying on the stream, and I said, ‘Hey. It dawns on me that we’ve got a bunch of kiddos at home that are maybe by themselves. Hey. Here’s what you do’,” Leeper recalls. “I love those moments where we can just sort of put everything else aside to talk to the people who are listening, in whatever situation they’re in.”
It's moments like that that help them stay grounded.
In 2023, a tornado killed a mother and young child here who lived in a trailer. Leeper didn't know them, but he attended the visitation.
“It just creates a whole other emotion when you walk into a funeral visitation for hurting families when it’s a weather event that you covered,” he says. “It’s not all action and adventure. It really affects people’s lives forever.”
