in a haboob The term “haboob” inspires an argument about nomenclature. Is it a dust storm? Is it technically something else? The facts: It is a dust storm, and it can kill you. Unlike a plain old dust storm, where dust and soil get pulled into the air by wind for a swirly party, a haboob is one where the dust travels via the wind of a thunder- storm or weather front. When it happens, it’s quick. It’s also complete chaos, espe- cially if you’re in a car. A friend and I experienced that firsthand one night in 2008, driving downtown to see, oddly enough, “Tropic Thunder.” Terrifying is the only way to describe it. Rain was pouring down, and anything that could be blown around was flying through the air. The airborne dirt and water made it hard to see. We pulled into a Circle K to wait it out, watching street lights go out, power lines come down and trees fall. Driving after that was no picnic — in just 15 minutes, the haboob caused massive destruction. Haboob and dust storm deaths are depressingly common in Arizona. In March, a dust storm pileup on Interstate 10 killed six and injured many more. In 2009, a dust storm in Casa Grande caused a 22-car pileup that killed three. Two years later, another dust storm north of Tucson killed one person. There are many more examples. A 2023 study that used data from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration found there were 157 deaths caused by dust-related car accidents from 1955 to 2011, just shy of three a year. If you ever are faced with driving in a haboob — chances are you will be — Maria Wojtczak has some tips. Haboobs pop up fast and without much warning, but that quickness is the one gift they give you, said Wojtczak, who owns the DrivingMBA driving school in Glendale. “Try to avoid driving and wait for it to pass,” she said. “If you happen to be caught on the road, reduce your speed as much as possible.” Even at a slower speed, it can still be hard to see. Counterintuitively, Wojtczak says the best move is to make yourself harder to see as well. Drivers should pull to the side of the road, turn off all lights and keep their foot off the brake so that brake lights don’t flare. If you have lights on, she said, “other vehicles on the road will follow lights if they cannot see anything else.” That’s called the “moth effect,” after the idiom of the moth drawn to the flame. In a haboob, your car could be moth or flame. And if you’re not careful, you could be dead. – Amy Young in a pool “Drowning is quiet,” said Caitlin Sageng, the senior program director at Child Crisis Arizona. Not much flailing, not much yelling. Just a wrong step, a quick splash and a child gone forever. Summers boast many dangers in Arizona, but drowning is among the most ever-present. The Drowning Prevention Coalition of Arizona maintains an interac- tive map that shows all the child drowning and near-drowning incidents that took place in Maricopa County in 2024. The map is covered in blue dots, which signify close calls. Scattered among them are 20 red dots, each of them a child lost to the water: a 3-year-old boy in Peoria, a 2-year-old girl in Phoenix, a 4-year-old boy in Scottsdale. Last month, Chandler-based influ- encer Emilie Kiser and her husband, Brady, made worldwide news when their 3-year-old son, Trigg, drowned in their backyard pool. The boy lived for six days after the May 12 incident. It can happen anywhere, at any time, to any parent or caregiver. Nationally, drowning is the top cause of death for children ages 1 to 4 and among the top five causes of death for children ages 5 to 9. “Kids of that age, they’re mobile, they’re curious,” Sageng said, “and it just takes Mom or Dad or a caregiver in a busy household to turn their back for just a minute and they’re able to get into the water.” In the pool-dotted landscape of metro Phoenix, the need for education and multiple barriers to drowning can’t be overstated, Sageng said. Safe Kids Maricopa County, a coalition under the umbrella of Child Crisis Arizona that aims to prevent all types of childhood injuries, provides free pool safety programs in English and Spanish. It has also partnered with SRP to pioneer the Pool Fence Safety Program, which provides families with free pool fences. Applications for fall 2025 installations are currently open on the Child Crisis Arizona website. Sageng said the key to avoiding child drownings is having multiple forms of protection. Pool fences with locks and self-closing gates are one piece of the puzzle, but so are swim lessons, knowl- edge of water safety and constant adult supervision. “All of those things work together to make your home safer,” Sageng said. – Jennifer Goldberg from a fireworks accident On a cool summer night at a Colorado park years ago, my family and others gathered to watch July Fourth fireworks. As patriotic music played, fireworks shot into the starry sky, but the “oohs” and “ahhs” soon turned into shrieks and screams. The bright explosions started shooting at the crowd instead of into the air. A firework had detonated early, causing one of the racks of fireworks to fall over. Now, instead of blasting off into the sky, the professional-grade explosives launched straight across the lake and into the park filled with onlookers. People started to run. Some people suffered minor burns while others were hurt as the crowd surged. Fireworks are an essential part of July Fourth celebrations. But lighting miniature rockets designed to explode is undoubtedly dangerous. In 2024, the Phoenix Fire Department dispatched crews 187 times on July 4. The day before, it was just 51. The department also had 20 to 30 more fire- fighters on shift that day, waiting and ready. They knew people would need their help. Nationwide, eight people died of fire- works-related injuries in 2023, the most recent year reported by the Consumer Product Safety Commission. Roughly 9,700 people were treated for fireworks-related injuries in emergency rooms across the country, with 66% of those injuries occur- ring in the weeks around July 4. Phoenix fire communications director Aly Pardi said hand injuries are the most common. “It can be anything from a firework exploding in your hand to an innocent spar- kler,” Pardi said. “They burn up to 300 degrees.” Last year, the Phoenix Fire Department published its first fire safety brochure in Spanish and English, distributing them to the public through fireworks vendors. The pamphlets included tips such as picking a safe location to light fireworks, securing pets and soaking used fireworks in water for 24 hours before throwing them away. Pardi says the department saw a 37.5% decrease in firework-related fires last year, which she attributes to the pamphlets. The fire department also encourages everyone to steer clear of illegal fireworks, which are often not permitted due to their higher risk. “If it explodes or goes into the air, that’s illegal,” Pardi says. “Go watch a show and leave it to the professionals. Sit in the grass and enjoy it with your family.” As I learned in Colorado, that technique isn’t foolproof either. So let us suggest two rules to add: Have fun, and try not to die. – Tirion Boan in a flash flood The water came without warning — a trickle at first, then a roaring wall of death. On July 15, 2017, a violent flash flood tore through the Tonto National Forest near Ellison Creek outside Payson. A churning mass of water, thick with ash from recent wildfires, ripped through the area, sweeping away dirt, rocks, trees and anything — or anyone — in its path. In seconds, the catastrophe became a tragedy. Ten members of the Garcia family, gathered for a birthday celebration, were killed. The 2017 tragedy had all the deadly hallmarks of a flash flood. A sudden burst of monsoon rain slammed into a wildfire- scarred landscape, where scorched trees and damaged soil couldn’t absorb the deluge. Flash floods in Arizona are no joke. They’re the state’s second-deadliest weather hazard after extreme heat, said Glenn Lader of the National Weather Service in Tucson. Though they can strike year-round, they’re far more common in summer, when monsoon storms unleash sudden, torrential downpours. The desert soil can’t absorb it fast enough. And the water has nowhere to go. Rainless winters also don’t help matters. “With a dry winter, the soil is affected,” said Arizona State Climatologist Erinanne Saffell. “And when we get our summer precipitation hits those dry soils, instead of going into the ground, it runs off.” Flash floods can develop suddenly, Saffell says, developing after “just a few minutes” of rainfall. Nor are they rural-only dangers. In urban areas of Arizona, monsoon rains can overwhelm washes, riverbeds and city streets. Deaths from urban flash floods aren’t as common, but they still happen. In 2014, a 53-year-old Tucson woman drowned after record- setting monsoon rains swept away her car in foot-high floodwaters. When a deluge of monsoon rain occurs, Lader recommends using caution and common sense. If you’re in a forest or canyon, be aware of any storms on the horizon and have a plan to find shelter and safety. In urban settings, avoid driving into any flooded washes, even if you think your car can make it. Lader says it takes only six inches of water to push a moving car downstream. “Basically, our point of advice is anytime you encounter a flooded roadway is to turn around,” he said. – Benjamin Leatherman >> p 15
