The death toll for the historic 1965 Palm Sunday Outbreak varies depending on your source, but the number 271 packs the authority of a U. S. Weather Bureau survey submitted by a five-man team to Dr. Robert White, the chief of the bureau, just three weeks after the disaster. Add to it one known casualty from Iowa who lingered until after the report was released before succumbing to his wounds, and 272 is a reasonable tally.
However many deaths were in fact attributable to the Palm Sunday Tornadoes, the bottom line is, a shocking number of people perished in the 20th century’s second-worst tornado outbreak.
Why? Certainly there was no fault with the forecasting, which was as spot-on as you could possibly hope for, even without the benefit of all the severe weather parameters that exist today.
The research team appointed by Chief White asked that same question: what was the breakdown? Three weeks after conducting extensive surveys through the tornado-stricken six-state region, they had answers, and recommendations to accompany them that have shaped the course of both tornado research and operational forecasting.
The Weather Bureau Survey Team Report of Palm Sunday Tornadoes of 1965 is fascinating in a number of respects, not the least being the fact that in it, one can see the shape of things to come. Striking as well, amid the overall commendable efforts on the part of the various weather bureaus to warn the public, were a few notable communication disconnects. The report shows that the first two tornadoes of the outbreak struck at about the same time, 12:45 CST, in eastern Iowa. The first warning wasn’t issued until 1:00, fifteen minutes later.
In West Michigan, the Alpine Avenue F4 tornado in northwest Grand Rapids, which leveled the Swan Inn and tracked as far as Rockford, struck at the same time that the first warning was issued. Ditto for the town of Burnips, located fifteen miles southwest of Grand Rapids. Residents in the beginning paths of these tornadoes had zero lead time. Two hours later to the east, in similar fashion, Radnor, Ohio, received its warning at the same time that a tornado was tearing its way through town. As for Marion, Indiana, seven minutes advance notice was probably very little better than nothing.
Remember, in those days, civil defense sirens weren’t sounded during tornado warnings in Great Lakes communities. The only means of alerting the public to imminent danger was radio and TV, and those depended, of course, on people being tuned in to them.
The long and short of it is, the warning system back then was nothing like what we have today. We’ve come a tremendously long way in 45 years. Many of the strides we’ve taken were first set in motion by the research and recommendations of the Palm Sunday Outbreak survey team. If anything good can be said about the mayhem of that dark April evening, it is that out of its tragic losses arose advances in the public warning system that continue to do a marvelously effective job of saving lives today.
