The Master of Meteorology
Bruce the Weatherman: retired or just retreaded?
In December 2018, with a winter storm bearing down, the Teton Valley Weather Facebook page posted a dire warning to area residents: “If you have any hatches, now would be the time to batten them down.”
The nautical reference was lost on some followers, so a thread of confusion ensued until a reader’s comment finally clarified the definition: “Secure a ship’s hatch-tarpaulins, especially when rough weather is expected,” or, simply put, prepare for a difficulty or crisis. Last winter, again before an anticipated storm, the page’s genial weatherman published a photo of himself stocking up on supplies in front of the Cheetos shelf at the local supermarket. Attentive followers responded, and now storms are classified as one, two, or three baggers.
Such are the enthusiasm and participation sparked by Bruce Mason, Teton Valley’s weatherman since 2012. With 6,500-plus loyal followers on his Facebook page, Bruce’s daily posts are a blend of remarkably accurate weather observations, stunning photos that change daily, and light-hearted videos. All are peppered with Bruce’s quirky humor and commentary. Last June, during some early summer thundershower activity, he initiated a “rainbow watch,” elevating that alert to a “rainbow warning,” meaning “rainbows, some severe and double, have actually been seen in the vicinity.” A page tradition, his photograph of the first snow angel of the season features Bruce spread-eagled in our initial dusting of the white stuff, sometimes as early as September. And last spring, at the onset of the coronavirus pandemic, he gently referred to “the other thing in the air.”
Bruce says his fascination with weather began with the first weather observation he remembers, watching a thunderstorm as a very young child with his grandmother. When he asked her what the thunder was, she replied tersely, “Gnomes bowling.” Growing up in the South in Florida, he experienced tornadoes and hurricanes. His interest in weather endured through college, where his science education major included meteorology classes. For thirty years, Bruce taught middle and high school science in both Florida and Georgia; the physical sciences, including weather, were his favorite subjects.
When Bruce and his wife Cathy moved to Teton Valley in 2005, he found our local weather enthralling. “Weather was a big part of our learning experience,” he says, “and I try to keep that in mind for newcomers.” Rituals for weather observation rule the Masons’ home. Bruce sets his alarm each day for six o’clock in the morning so he can publish the weather report before commuters hit the road. He utilizes information from subscriptions to several weather information services, which provide maps and real-time data. At 7 a.m., he’s out measuring snow and rain for CoCoRaHS (Community Collaborative Rain Hail and Snow Network), a citizen scientist group that reports daily to a national network. His automated weather station, one of nearly twenty in the valley, sends data to the online weather forecaster Weather Underground.
Astute followers of Bruce’s Facebook page notice that during times of turbulent weather, his posts often originate in the wee hours of pre-dawn. When the National Weather Service issues a special weather statement, watch, advisory, or warning, Bruce’s weather radios respond with ear-splitting alert signals. Then, as Cathy notes, “Everybody’s up!” and the forecast must go on. Married to the weatherman for forty-six years, she proofreads Bruce’s Facebook posts, as well as his weekly column for the Teton Valley News. She also takes photos and videos, braving the elements to capture the moment. “He’s always been a little silly,” Cathy acknowledges.
“I’m supposed to be retired,” Bruce wryly says. He is an official senior citizen, after all, but his busy schedule indicates no signs of any such retirement-like status. An icon of community service, Bruce is relentlessly involved. For three years, he chaired the board of directors for Seniors West of the Tetons. “[That group] taught me how real and sincere people are in Teton Valley,” Bruce says. Since 2006, he’s worked with Boy Scout Troup 185. “I was raised by my mother, and scouting filled in a gap for me with male role models,” he explains. Monthly camping trips with the Scouts—even in winter—are one of Bruce’s favorite activities.
In addition, he operates a ham radio, an informal term used for an amateur radio operator, and volunteers with the Community Emergency Response Team, a group of individuals trained to triage and provide first aid in the event of mass casualties in the valley. With the arrival of the pandemic, Bruce has regularly posted bagpipe video concerts on his personal Facebook page and created a memorial of white flags positioned around an American flag at half-mast. Each white flag honors an Idaho resident who has died from COVID-19. He’s renowned for his St. Patrick’s Day bagpipe performances at O’Rourke’s Sports Bar and Grill. Though he will never admit to dressing up as Santa Claus, he advises us that he does have the ability to contact the real Santa for Christmas season appearances around the valley, often accompanied by Mrs. Claus.
Recognizing the need to eventually step away from so many commitments, Bruce asserts that he will maintain his devotion to forecasting the weather. “People tell me it helps them and keeps them safe,” he says. “I can’t walk away from that.” Besides, he describes his weather activities as “the most fun job ever.”
By now, Bruce has already made the winter’s first snow angel. Soon, he may be camping out with the Scouts. And if you see Santa Claus around the valley this Christmas season? Shhh, it might, or might not, be Bruce. And on St. Paddy’s Day, he’ll play his bagpipes again.
Retired? No, not really, and thankfully so for Teton Valley.
