Brian M. Johnson

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SERIOUS SEVERE WEATHER: The Storm Prediction Center has UPGRADED to a rare Level 4 out of 5 severe weather risk for Monday in the Mid-Atlantic. This includes Washington D.C., Richmond, Raleigh, Charlotte and part of South Carolina! In the red zone, there is an increasing concern for a couple supercells that could produce an isolated EF2+ tornado, and given fast storm motions, we can't rule out a longer-track tornado as well. This risk tier happens 3 times per decade on average in our area; the last times in D.C. were August 7, 2023 and April 19, 2019. These risk tiers are reserved for only the most substantial, higher-impact severe weather events that are somewhat reminiscent of what I chase out west. Dangerous storms, some of which may produce 60-75 mph wind gusts, are likely. A few rotating supercells with tornado potential could crop up, and we'll also likely see a few brief spin-up tornadoes within the main squall line that should come through during the evening hours. School districts – use Sunday to plan. Multiple rounds of potentially dangerous storms, including with some tornado risk, are likely in some spots.

Wanna feel old? Fraternities are now using 2016 as a throwback theme for parties

🚨WATCH: A public commission in Virginia votes to remove the Pledge of Allegiance from its regular business agenda. The Winchester Planning Commission opted to remove the pledge from its business meeting agenda on Tuesday, with one commissioner calling it "pageantry" and another saying it's "unnecessary." The commission voted 4-2 to remove the pledge.

We're still watching the potential for wintry weather Sunday into Monday. We are leaning, based on the latest model data, toward a relatively minor snow accumulation mainly on Sunday night. It's just a "lean" for now because some modeling still suggests potential for more substantial accumulations (and one model shows a massive snowstorm, but it's on its own). The forecast is challenging because it’s unclear where and how fast the storm will form, and if two disturbances in the atmosphere (one to the north, and one to the south) will merge. In the more likely event that the two disturbances do not merge, we think the snow probabilities are as follows: * Chance of at least 1" of snow: 40 percent. * Chance of at least 3" of snow: 25 percent. * Chance of 6" or more: 15 percent. * Chance of 12" or more: 5 percent. In the less likely event the disturbances merge, the ceiling for snow accumulation would go up quite a bit. On Thursday morning, the American (GFS) model simulated an astonishing three feet of snow in D.C. But it was an extreme outlier among the numerous models meteorologists analyze, and has a bad track record this winter. The exact timing and details of how the storm will evolve are still very much subject to change. But here’s how we see it as of now: > Sunday morning into afternoon: The first phase of the storm is likely to produce at least a little precipitation in the D.C. area, although there is still an outside chance of a total miss. Precipitation on Sunday could be light rain or a mix of rain and snow. Temperatures are probably in the mid-30s or higher, so snow accumulation is unlikely except perhaps a light accumulation on grass. > Sunday evening and overnight: As the disturbance sweeping in from the north cuts across Virginia, it could give our area a period of accumulating snow as temperatures drop into the low 30s. Colder areas north and west of downtown D.C. have the highest chance of at least an inch of snow. > Monday: Any snow should taper during the morning with afternoon highs rising to near 40.

Friends- This is a tough note to write, but since a bunch of you have started to suspect something, I’ll cut to the chase: Last week I was diagnosed with metastasized, stage-four pancreatic cancer, and am gonna die. Advanced pancreatic is nasty stuff; it’s a death sentence. But I already had a death sentence before last week too — we all do. I’m blessed with amazing siblings and half-a-dozen buddies that are genuinely brothers. As one of them put it, “Sure, you’re on the clock, but we’re all on the clock.” Death is a wicked thief, and the bastard pursues us all. Still, I’ve got less time than I’d prefer. This is hard for someone wired to work and build, but harder still as a husband and a dad. I can’t begin to describe how great my people are. During the past year, as we’d temporarily stepped back from public life and built new family rhythms, Melissa and I have grown even closer — and that on top of three decades of the best friend a man could ever have. Seven months ago, Corrie was commissioned into the Air Force and she’s off at instrument and multi-engine rounds of flight school. Last week, Alex kicked butt graduating from college a semester early even while teaching gen chem, organic, and physics (she’s a freak). This summer, 14-year-old Breck started learning to drive. (Okay, we’ve been driving off-book for six years — but now we’ve got paper to make it street-legal.) I couldn’t be more grateful to constantly get to bear-hug this motley crew of sinners and saints. There’s not a good time to tell your peeps you’re now marching to the beat of a faster drummer — but the season of advent isn’t the worst. As a Christian, the weeks running up to Christmas are a time to orient our hearts toward the hope of what’s to come. Not an abstract hope in fanciful human goodness; not hope in vague hallmark-sappy spirituality; not a bootstrapped hope in our own strength (what foolishness is the evaporating-muscle I once prided myself in). Nope — often we lazily say “hope” when what we mean is “optimism.” To be clear, optimism is great, and it’s absolutely necessary, but it’s insufficient. It’s not the kinda thing that holds up when you tell your daughters you’re not going to walk them down the aisle. Nor telling your mom and pops they’re gonna bury their son. A well-lived life demands more reality — stiffer stuff. That’s why, during advent, even while still walking in darkness, we shout our hope — often properly with a gravelly voice soldiering through tears. Such is the calling of the pilgrim. Those who know ourselves to need a Physician should dang well look forward to enduring beauty and eventual fulfillment. That is, we hope in a real Deliverer — a rescuing God, born at a real time, in a real place. But the eternal city — with foundations and without cancer — is not yet. Remembering Isaiah’s prophecies of what’s to come doesn’t dull the pain of current sufferings. But it does put it in eternity’s perspective: “When we've been there 10,000 years…We've no less days to sing God's praise.” I’ll have more to say. I’m not going down without a fight. One sub-part of God’s grace is found in the jawdropping advances science has made the past few years in immunotherapy and more. Death and dying aren’t the same — the process of dying is still something to be lived. We’re zealously embracing a lot of gallows humor in our house, and I’ve pledged to do my part to run through the irreverent tape. But for now, as our family faces the reality of treatments, but more importantly as we celebrate Christmas, we wish you peace: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned….For to us a son is given” (Isaiah 9). With great gratitude, and with gravelly-but-hopeful voices, Ben — and the Sasses