Some people always seem to keep one eye cast on the skies.

At coffee shops, farmers talk rainfall measurements taken from backyard gauges.

“Three hundredths of an inch,” one might say.

“We got nothing on our place,” notes another.

In urban areas, too, many people keep watch on the weather.

But some keep more scientific tabs than others.

They’re known as cooperative weather observers, and they gather weather data on a daily basis for the National Weather Service.

The program is one of the largest volunteer efforts in the country. A nationwide network of more than 11,000 observers reports weather data collected from farms, urban areas, seashores, deserts and mountaintops.

In Nebraska, more than 200 observers trudge outside every day to check their precipitation gauges and record temperatures.

Among them is Robert Brehm, recently honored for 22 years’ volunteering, having provided more than 8,000 weather reports from his acreage by Raymond.

There’s also Daryl Obermeyer of Auburn, who’s been an observer for 30 years.

And Larry Eigsti of rural Friend, who is newer to the program.

They volunteer for various reasons. But each morning, every one of them is up and at it by 7 a.m., heading outside whether the morning is bright and beautiful or bone-chilling cold.

Some do the observing as part of their jobs at power plants  and agricultural operations.

Most, though, are volunteers.

They’re retired farmers with a long habit of checking for rainfall.

Or people who served as the backup observer for a friend, then decided to take the task over when the primary person gave it up.

“Most of them are very regular about sending in their reports,” said Terry Landsvork, who oversees the observer program for the National Weather Service office at Valley.

“A lot of them are very interested in the weather,” he said, “Some feel part of the National Weather Service team. And some of them are natural volunteers; they’re people who do everything.”

Data helps science

Their observations help scientists understand climate trends across the state, providing data for every few miles across Nebraska.

It’s that aspect of the program that appeals to Obermeyer, 55, of Auburn. He was interested in such data for years before he started reporting it himself.

“When I was in college, in my spare time, I went down and read old climatology records at the state climatology office,” he said.

He would look up the numbers — how hot Nebraska had been in the torrid 1930s, or rainfall amounts from the worst drought years and the biggest blizzards.

The kind of weather events “old timers talk about,” Obermeyer said.

So when a weather observer near Auburn resigned 30 years ago, “the state climatologist remembered me from my days hanging around the office and called me.”

Now he has decades of weather records on his computer. He can quickly rattle off data collected on his farm over the years:

— In three decades on his place, 1993 was the wettest year, with 49.48 inches of rain.

— The driest was 1988, when only 15.86 inches of precipitation was measured on his property. 

— He recorded his hottest temperature, 110 degrees Fahrenheit, on July 14, 1980.

— His lowest, 27 degrees below zero, was recorded Dec. 23, 1989.

He said he mostly enjoys seeing variety and trends in the data.

“There is a lot of difference here. If you lived in San Francisco, it might not be that exciting to be a weather observer,” Obermeyer said.

Local TV stations contact him for his numbers, and he reports his temperature and precipitation for the Nemaha County Herald.

But he does no forecasting.

“When people ask me what I think it’s going to do, I tell them, I record, I don’t predict,” he said, joking.

“That way I’m never wrong.”

Reports sent in daily 

Data collected by the observers is archived at the National Climactic Data Center in Asheville, N.C.

“Some people only fill out the monthly forms and send them in to me,” Landsvork said. “But more than 60 percent send their data by phone or computer every day.”

Those that send a daily report generally use a special phone, provided by the weather service at the Valley office, where Landsvork checks them for accuracy. Others enter data over the Internet.

The observers’ numbers are circulated quickly in a report issued each morning by the weather service.

Landsvork said some people wonder why precipitation and temperature are not reported by calendar date, but rather as the total from 7 a.m. one day to 7 a.m. the next.

That’s because those reports are reliant on a volunteer force, he said.

It would be too much, he said, to ask volunteers to get up at midnight and check a gauge.

That’s not to say the observers aren’t a dedicated lot.

They often serve as storm spotters. The weather service will call them and ask for their visual observations when the skies turn dark and ominous.

More often, the volunteers call and offer their storm observations without being asked.

For their dedication, observers are rewarded with honors such as the John Campanius Holm award, only 25 of which are given each year nationwide.

And observers know they are making a permanent contribution to scientists’ study of the climate.

In fact, their work is important to many people, Landsvork said.

“Lawyers use the data all the time to settle disputes,” he said.

Insurance companies use data to investigate claims.

Data also is used by utility companies, agricultural scientists, transportation planners and more.

It started with Ben 

Ben Franklin envisioned such a network of weather observers and made early attempts at getting one started in this country. Data collected by a volunteer weather observer corps dates back to the 1890s.

Even with today’s sophisticated, automated weather stations, the eyes and hands of actual people are needed.

The program needs people like Bob Brehm, whose trained eyes can judge the snowdrifts to report snow depth. It needs people who will carry cold brass canisters of snow inside to melt, because the weather service wants to know how much actual moisture is in the snow.

Brehm worked for the Lincoln Journal Star for 37 years as the press manager. One day he saw an ad in the newspaper seeking a volunteer weather observer. His 40 acres near Branched Oak Lake proved a good spot.

In his 70s now, he hopes to keep observing for many years.

“It keeps me young. I’ll keep doing  it as long as I can go,” he said.

To measure rainfall, observers use a device that involves an inner canister and an outer canister to catch overflow.

The rain collects in a funnel that’s eight inches in diameter, because a narrower collection area could be inaccurate.

The liquid is then poured into a brass tube and measured with a  carbon ruler, which minimizes displacement and gives a reading accurate to one one-hundredth of an inch.

Brehm also has a temperature sensor that looks a little like a birdhouse on a pole, also provided by the National Weather Service. It sends temperature readings to a machine in his garage.

And he has a wall full of awards  recognizing his commitment to the program. They include signed letters of thanks from senators and President George W. Bush.

His efforts have brought other opportunities his way: the University of Wisconsin recently asked him to plant a new kind of lilac tree on his property. Because of his work with weather observations, he can tell researchers exactly how much moisture and heat and freezing the young trees received. “It’s just a neat thing to do,” he said.

GPS marks the spot 

Landsvork takes about two hours to set up a new observer site.

First he needs to find a spot on a volunteer’s property where results won’t be thrown off by trees or overhangs or outbuildings.

He uses a global positioning system (GPS) to mark the spot.

Some observers have temperature sensors and rain gauges, while others have a machine that tracks the temperature and rainfall every 15 minutes. Those instruments run off solar power and measure rainfall by the water’s weight.

Landsvork returns at least once a year to check all the instruments.

Like many observers who find themselves more curious about the weather, Larry Eigsti, 45, has plenty of instruments of his own to watch.

He farms by Friend and, for him, sending in his National Weather Service data is part of a larger hobby.

“It’s something I’ve always been interested in,” he said.

He has a weather station on his farm that allows him to record the humidity, solar radiation, ultraviolet index, soil temperature and more, just for his own use. The weather service can’t use that data because it doesn’t calibrate and authorize the instruments.

But it’s interesting to Eigsti, both as a farmer and weather lover.

Soon he hopes to provide all that information on a Web site, where other area residents can benefit from the information, too.

Tracking the weather remains intriguing because of how fast the weather can change — how summer storms can turn the air from hot to cold so quickly, he said.

“I just like all the variation that we get here.”

Landsvork, who recruits observers as part of his job, said it’s not too difficult to find people who feel the same way.

“These observers know there’s always someone at the coffee shop, asking ‘How much did we get?’ So they know who’s interested when we have an opening, and we give them a call.”

Reach Kendra Waltke at (402) 473-7303 or kwaltke@journalstar.com.