Take urgent action to combat climate change and its impacts

Hurricane Debby made landfall near the town of Steinhatchee, Florida, at 7 a.m. Aug. 5, 2024, as a Category 1 storm. As it moved northeast, the storm stalled over the U.S. Southeast and delivered torrential rainfall. Some areas of South Carolina and Georgia recorded more than 20 inches of rain as the storm crawled northeast toward a second landfall (this time as a strong tropical storm) near Myrtle Beach, S.C.  NOAA

A warming climate means more water vapor, which means bigger and wetter tropical storms

(This story was originally published by The Conversation.)

Tropical Storm Debby was moving so slowly, Olympians could have outrun it as it moved across the Southeast in early August 2024. That gave its rainfall time to deluge cities and farms over large parts of Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas. More than a foot of rain had fallen in some areas by early Aug. 7, with more days of rain forecast there and into the Northeast.

Mathew Barlow, a climate scientist at UMass Lowell, explains how storms like Debby pick up so much moisture, what can cause them to slow or stall and what climate change has to do with it.

What causes hurricanes to stall?

Hurricanes are steered by the weather systems they interact with, including other storms moving across the U.S. and the Bermuda High over the Atlantic Ocean.

A hurricane may be moving slowly because there are no weather systems close enough to pull the hurricane along, or there might be a high-pressure system to the north of the hurricane that blocks its forward movement. In this case, a high-pressure system over the western U.S. was slowing Debby’s forward progress and the Bermuda High — which is a large, clockwise circulation of winds that generally runs up the East Coast — wasn’t close enough to be a factor.

That’s similar to what happened with the remnants of Hurricane Harvey in 2017, one of the best-known examples of a stalled hurricane. High pressure over the U.S. blocked its forward movement, allowing it to drop more than 50 inches of rain on parts of Texas.

Slower-moving storms have longer to rain over the same area, and that can dramatically increase the risk of flooding, as the Southeast is experiencing with Debby. 

Hiwassee Bruderhof builds vermicomposting equipment at its manufacturing facility on the grounds of what was Hiwassee College in Monroe County, Tennessee.  Hiwassee Products

Intentional Christian community settles into old Hiwassee College campus

HIWASSEE —­ We gathered in the old Hiwassee College theater to see “Common Ground” and hear from one of the farmers featured in the film.

Members of the new Bruderhof (from the German word, a place of brothers) community in Monroe County sat with us for the screening.

A few folks asked me: “Are you a farmer?”

“No, I am a United Methodist pastor,” I replied. The community is on the old Hiwassee College campus. The Holston Conference closed the college in 2019 and then sold the property to the Bruderhof in 2021

One older gentleman said, “I hoped to sit with a farmer.” I understood that. The community, in addition to being a self-supporting Christian Intentional Community, hoped to sell some of its new equipment to local farmers. Hobby gardeners, like me, would not want to invest the money in the new tools being offered. 

Nanette Mahler, left, and Tracy O’Neill walk along Macon Wall Road in Cheatham County, Tennessee, near the site of a proposed Tennessee Valley Authority gas power plant project. Local backlash against the proposal comes as the federal utility faces bipartisan legislation in Congress seeking to boost transparency in its planning process and scrutiny of TVA’s anemic renewable power growth compared to other utilities. Robert Zullo/States Newsroom

TVA ‘clearly a laggard’ in renewable energy

This article was originally published by Tennessee Lookout.

ASHLAND CITY — When he heard about the sale, Kerry McCarver was perplexed.

In 2020, the mayor of rural Cheatham County discovered that the Tennessee Valley Authority bought about 280 acres of rolling farmland “in the middle of nowhere” in his county, which lies just west of Nashville and is home to about 42,000 people.

He asked another county official who formerly worked for the TVA, the nation’s largest public power company, to find out what it planned to do with the land.

The answer they got was “future use,” and they speculated a solar farm might be in the works.

“It’s kind of the last we thought about it,” McCarver said during an interview in his office in May. “Then a year ago last summer, TVA called here needing a place to have a public meeting.”

The authority was now proposing a 900-megawatt natural gas-fired power plant, battery storage, pipelines and other associated infrastructure for the site, which came as a shock to McCarver and many other locals who felt it was wholly inappropriate for the area. 

Slow Food Tennessee Valley co-founder Sarah Bush picks heirloom tomatoes at Vuck Farm in Riceville.  Élan Young/Hellbender Press

Slow Food ramps up regional food resilience efforts

RICEVILLE — On a hot summer day in late June, Sarah Bush, co-founder of Slow Food Tennessee Valley, slices some varieties of tender heirloom tomatoes freshly picked from tall rows of plants strung up in a giant, covered hoop-style greenhouse before serving them on a cutting board with a bit of farm-fresh chevre and basil.

The tomatoes span hues of yellow, red, green and purple, some a solid color or slightly striped and bearing intriguing names not found in grocery stores: striped Heart, Cherokee evergreen, chocolate stripe and Valencia. The flavor combinations explode into farm-to-table bliss. 

The tomatoes are especially terrific for a reason: Bush, 46, has practiced regenerative farming since she was 28.

Mentored by other small farmers around the country who taught her how to exist and thrive in an economy that favors Big Ag, she now splits her time between Vuck Farm, a biodynamic farm in Riceville owned by her partner TJ Teets, and managing the produce department at Three Rivers Market in Knoxville — Tennessee’s only cooperative grocery.

She also serves on the planning committee for CRAFT (Collaborative Regional Alliance for Farmer Training), which is run by the Southeastern Tennessee chapter of the National Young Farmers Coalition.  

Not a bougie supper club

Founded in 2008, the Tennessee Valley chapter of Slow Food is the only chapter in the state that has remained active since its founding. 

A little more than two decades earlier in 1986, thousands of Italians gathered at the base of the sprawling Piazza di Spagna in the center of Rome to protest the country’s first McDonald’s restaurant. Slow Food’s founder, Italian journalist Carlo Petrini, was among them. Instead of bringing a sign with a slogan, Petrini brought a big bowl of penne pasta to share with the crowd chanting We don’t want fast food. We want Slow Food! Three years later the movement became an official organization and today spans 160 countries.