Best Of Tucson®

Best Sign The Apocalypse Is Coming

The Weather In 1999

STAFF PICK: Much as we disdain the local news for leading with the weather report night after relentless night, we have to admit: Tucson is a place worthy of vigil for the paranoid and devout. We cite as evidence: An exceedingly mild and dry winter, ending with that crazy spring snow storm that dropped inches on Bisbee and other outlaying areas, and sent flurries through downtown Tucson on Easter Sunday. Then the wildflowers returned, along with our false sense of security and a record low number of days under the century mark this summer. (Although we did begin the plague of grasshoppers, ostensibly from Mexico.)

Come May, the powers that be had declared Arizona's drought conditions a state of emergency, with our own false-prophet Mayor George Miller seizing upon the crisis to unapologetically proselytize from his crappy CAP soapbox. All the local press reported their version of his warning that the salty river water might be Tucson's only salvation. Call it a sign from God, if you like, but his public address barely beat the kick-off of Tucson's longest running monsoon season on record, which was underway by the end of July. Need more compelling evidence that the sky is falling? What about that September 15 hurricane, which blew in out of nowhere in the middle of the day, dropping three-quarter-inch hail that closed down West-bound I-10 at the noon hour. Downtown, the sun continued to blaze in a seemingly cloudless sky, while sheets of rain and hail nonetheless hammered the streets for a good half-hour. Weird.

And in case anyone's forgotten that disastrous flooding in 1983, take heed: that baby hit the first week in October of that year, after a similarly wet summer. Batten down the hatches, folks. The end may be near.