Dan's Papers - October 5, 2007

Dan's Papers holds numerous events every year. They include a 5k race, a kite fly, a clambake on the beach for the staff, a Best of the Best party for advertisers and a modest Dan's Papers film festival.

Almost all of these events are held outdoors. And yet, over the years, it has almost never rained. People ask, shouldn't we get a tent? Do we have a rain date? I always say the same thing. It's not going to rain. It doesn't rain on our events. It just doesn't.

The reason it doesn't rain, I believe, is because we have a certain amount of control of the weather. For one thing, there is a God. And he looks kindly down on us when he has time to look down on us, which is only sometimes. He's a busy fellow. And then there is Rory McKraken.

Years ago, before all this computer and satellite stuff was around that could predict the weather to an almost annoying degree of accuracy, we really had very little control of things. They'd make a weather forecast of fog and clouds. We'd get sun. They'd make a weather forecast of sun. We'd get a thunderstorm.

This was particularly important in places such as Montauk, where I started this newspaper in 1960. Nobody really knew the weather forecast. Indeed, the great and devastating Hurricane of '38 came up the coast all the way from Florida but arrived here as an almost complete surprise. Nobody knew anything.

But back then the motel town of Montauk had only 90 days to make its money. So the perfect weekend that everybody prayed for was warm sunshine on Friday to drive the tourists out to the beaches, then rain on Saturday and Sunday so they'd have to shop instead. We'd leave God small offerings.

Then there were the folks, mostly farmers or fishermen, who could lick their thumb and stick it up in the air and tell you what the weather would do in the next few days.

That was about as close as we'd come.

In these circumstances, I invented a fellow named Rory McKraken. I'd write articles about him in the paper. He worked in a huge coal-driven power plant up in the woods of Water Mill and he could get his workmen to shovel coal into the fireboxes, which could pump out mist or humidity or carbon dioxide or electric charges or wind or heat from the plant's smokestacks into the air that would somehow influence the incoming weather, or at least get it to veer off somewhere else. He and his crew worked for the National Weather Service. And there were regional power plants located all over the country that tried to influence things, sometimes in conflict with one another.

I modeled McCracken on Scotty from "Star Trek." Scotty would shout from the engine room, "I'm doin' the best that I can, Captain. That's all she's got." And sometimes it was enough and sometimes it wasn't. And so when I would interview McKraken, all covered with sweat and coal dust after some big fizzle or something, he would always be apologetic and defensive, but hopeful. "We almost had it, but then the damn gasket blew. We'll get it next time."

It was in these circumstances that on Tuesday, September 11, I took a huge gamble on what the weather would be like on September 21.

When I choose the covers for Dan's Papers, I try to choose artwork that is appropriate for the season. I knew that autumn would be here on September 21.

And yet, I had a wonderful painting by Leonid Gervits of people on the beach, with a thunderous ocean throwing huge sprays of spindrift toward the sunbathers lying under their beach umbrellas. I hadn't run this artwork during the summer. And yet, there it was, on our Art Director Kelly's computer screen, gorgeous and unused. There's a sort of stormy quality to the scene - it's a sunny hot day, but there's something brewing - hence the big surf.

Tuesday, September 11 was a chilly day. People wore windbreakers. At night the temperature would drop into the 50s, with a projected low into the 40s for the upcoming weekend of September 14-16. Nobody would be on the beach.

"Let's run this next week," I told Kelly. "It's going to be a beach day. And all weekend, in the days that follow, will be beach days with temperatures in the 80s."

She looked at me skeptically. I was discussing 11 days ahead. "You sure? If people are walking around in heavy coats we'll sure look foolish."

So here I am writing this on Monday, September 24 and the paper came out 3 days ago and the temperature was in the 80s and maybe even the low 90s. And people were out on the beaches all weekend.

Thank you God. And thank you Rory McKraken. Good job. After this weekend, take yourself a few days off.