My neighbor Debbie Weathers, who died on Dec. 19 at age 69 after a short bout with cancer, was always smiling, always pleasant, and her time-tested composure is very much missed in our West of Washington (WOW) neighborhood of Dorchester. It has not been the same place since we lost her.

It wasn’t until recently that I learned with astonishment that Miss Debbie, as she was called, was an accomplished electronics technician with the National Weather Service (NWS) at a time when women, especially Black women, did not get those kinds of jobs. In her retirement, she and Laquisa Burke became leaders in the WOW neighborhood group. She was a constant presence at the group’s movie nights, neighborhood clean-ups, monthly meetings, Christmas parties, and she learned Zoom during the pandemic. She fought hard for a new park on Norwell Street, which will commence construction this year.

Her daughter Dmitra noted that she was born when Debbie was older and after she had retired, so it was unique for her growing up with a mother who was so attentive to her and her friends.

“You needed it; she had it,” recalled Dmitra. “I used to call her a community mom and that made her so happy. She always looked out for kids I grew up with who were less fortunate. She was so open and not judgmental of anyone. At the end of the day, my mom loved her life and did right by everybody. I’ve never heard anyone speak a bad word about her.”

And you wouldn’t hear her speak a bad word about anyone, either. She was always careful not to overreact, not to jump too far ahead. That’s something that I find is common amongst people who lived through the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s in Boston – particularly people in this part of the city. I guess when you’ve seen so much, been through so much during those tough times, today’s turmoil probably seems candy-coated.
Debbie Weathers grew up in Roxbury, the second oldest of seven children. She attended South Boston High School during the height of court-ordered busing to desegregate Boston’s schools. Later, her parents bought the home on Norwell Street, where she lived for more than 50 years until her death.

“She went to school when they were throwing rocks at her and calling her names and it was crazy,” said Dmitra. “It was something she didn’t forget. That’s why she didn’t like name-calling. She didn’t like us play-fighting, either. She told us over and over how she went through that and it was real life, and it happened and wasn’t funny. We didn’t really get it until later.”

Everyone knew Miss Debbie’s smile, her passion for the neighborhood, and her love for Bingo games. But her pioneering career as an electronics technician repairing and calibrating instruments from the Blue Hills to the isolated banks of the Connecticut River was little known to her neighbors.

“She did a lot [at the National Weather Service] and was one of the only African American women who worked there in those times,” said her daughter.

As tumultuous as her days at South Boston High had been, the school gave her instruction in electronics in the days before automation, and she further honed her skills at Roxbury Community College, eventually becoming one of two women hired by the National Weather Service (NWS) at Logan Airport, according to former colleagues.

Michael Esip, a retired senior electronics tech at NWS, worked side-by-side with her in the 1990s until she had to retire after getting hurt on a training trip to Kansas City. In her work, she repaired and calibrated instruments on the runways of Logan Airport, on the banks of secluded rivers all over New England, on Boston Light in the Harbor, and even up on 30-foot wind towers.

“I found her to be reliable, dedicated, and willing to take on any task assigned,” Esip recalled. “She also was liked and a good friend to all and known to have a heart of gold. Saying this, she was also not one to be pushed around and could hold her own with any of her peers.”

Esip recalled one day when Miss Debbie convinced a nervous Secret Service agent sent to secure the airport for Air Force One and President George H.W. Bush to allow her to finish repairing a rooftop instrument before clearing the airfield.

Then there was the time she was on the airport runway area repairing equipment, which was always a dangerous proposition, and found herself stuck due to the sloppy installation of a new radio in her truck. But she was calm, like always.

“Rather than panic, she pointed her vehicle at the tower so that she could use the headlights to send a flashing code to the tower,” wrote Esip. “Once the tower saw the coded headlight message, they were able to communicate back to her and guide her…using a floodlight in the tower used for such emergencies.”

Esip said when she returned, she wasn’t rude, but let the installer know how unhappy she was with his work ethic and that he needed to do better. The incident resulted in an inspection of other trucks, revealing more dangerously sloppy work. Ironically, that technician left NWS and transferred to the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) where he became a supervisor, noted Esip.

Miss Debbie retired a legend at the NWS, with numerous commendations. And in her retirement, she focused her energy on her young daughter, often bringing her back to the NWS for visits when she was a child.

Laquisa Burke was one of those she buddied up to as a “community mom,” and along with neighbors like Andrew Haile, they pushed for the new Norwell Street park in an area of town that has no parks. Burke said Miss Debbie was “there from day one and it’s sad she won’t be here to see the park construction, but I know she’ll be wishing us the best.”

Keeping her name alive in the park seems appropriate. Some have talked about a memorial, but it would seem about perfect to have a community weather station in her name set up there in partnership with the NWS.

The Weathers Weather Station. I don’t think anyone would rain on that parade.

A drop-in memorial service for Debbie Weathers is scheduled to be held at the Carver Post on Talbot Avenue this Saturday, Feb. 8, from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.