Fujita vs Simpson: should a storm's fury be judged by wind or by wreckage?

I read the storm backward, from the splintered barn to the twisted rail, because damage never lies about the wind that made it.

And I read it forward, Ted—my scale tells a coastal family how hard the wind will hit and how high the sea will climb before it arrives.

But your neat categories flatten a monster; a single tornado carries a dozen fury zones, and only the ruins reveal them.

Ruins are your obituary, mine is a warning—I would rather rate the storm an hour early than autopsy it a day too late.