The One Thing Gary England Taught Me

Gary England, 1939-2025

Gary England, the most iconic severe weather meterologist in U.S. history, died yesterday. He was 85. England was the chief meterologist for KWTV-9 here in Oklahoma City, and the most trusted source in Tornado Alley.

I had a few interactions with England over the years, first when I worked in environmental public affairs at Tinker Air Force Base and later, when I served as the Central Oklahoma Clean Cities Coordinator. The latter was a  Department of Energy program that focused on promotion of alternative fuel vehicles. When the program launched back in 1995, I was focused on promoting the economic, energy security and environmental benefits of AFVs, particularly their potential impact on air quality. At the time, non-attainment with EPA regulations hovered over Central Oklahoma, threatening depot maintenance operations at Tinker and beyond.

One of my big wins early on was scoring a lunch with England, which I attended with the late Zach Taylor. The three of us met at The Metro in Nichols Hills and talked all things ozone and AFV. England agreed to start promoting our Clean Air Alert Days, which I also managed media for as part of my job.

The name of the alerts was a bit ironic, since the air was anything but clean on those days. The title was a strategic spin that framed the alerts around the goal rather than the problem. By invoking clean air, we emphasized what we were trying to protect, not just what we were trying to avoid. It was a way to make the message feel hopeful and action-oriented, encouraging people to help reduce pollution rather than simply react to the hazards of high ozone or carbon monoxide.

Savage Little Prankster

Thirty years have drifted past since that day we had lunch at The Metro. Like ozone on the wind, my memories are invisible, reactive, and linger in my mind still holding charge. I was 27-years-old and thought Gary and Zach were both super old. Gary would have been around 55 and Zach was either 47 or 48. Truly, they seemed ancient to me. Ancient in the same way my teenagers now think my sun is well past its zenith. What you don’t know won’t kill you, kids. Gary and Zach were both younger then than I am now. Time, as it turns out, is a savage little prankster.

The Lesson

I learned an important lesson that day we had lunch with Gary England, one I have carried with me throughout my career in public relations. Somewhere between herb rolls and the main course our conversation took a left turn into Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Specifically, the scene where Steve Martin and John Candy are barrelling down the wrong side of the highway and turn into skeletons as they needle their wood-paneled Chrysler LeBaron between two oncoming semis. “You’re going the wrong way,” Gary chuckled.

We laughed so hard and that laughter hijacked the strategy, structure and polish Zach and I were aiming for. We were no longer pitching Gary. We were connecting with him as equals. We finished lunch and his long-term support was sealed.

What I learned that day was that one authentic connection is worth more than all the perfectly crafted messages in the world. And, sometimes, humor opens the door science can’t. RIP Gary England.