In this task, you are given a text of many news articles seperated by special token "|||||". Your task is to summarize them.
Q: “If you look outside, you might think it’s just clouds,” said Logan Johnson, a meteorologist with the National Weather Service’s Seattle office. The downpour of salt-and-pepper ash, he added, is like “nothing we’ve observed in quite some time.” 
  
 Meteorologists say it has been an unusually dry summer in a region known for rain. It has not rained significantly in Seattle since June, Mr. Johnson said, and meteorologists say it has been more than 50 days since measurable precipitation fell in Portland, Ore. 
  
 Instead, a strong ridge of high pressure has settled over much of the Pacific Northwest, heating the air and blocking storms from entering the area. As a result, trees, grass and other foliage have dried out, creating fuel that officials say is ripe for ignition if lightning strikes or sparks fly. ||||| The Schluters, by contrast, have been appearing in tandem since the 1940s, when Harvey was visiting his brother at a duplex in Spokane and ran into Irma, staying with her sister in the apartment below while she attended high school. 
  
 Mr. Schluter was smitten. The future Mrs. Schluter, Irma Schumacher, was more hesitant. 
  
 “I wasn’t quite through school yet,” she said. “I wanted to wait until I was done. But he talked me into getting married before that.” 
  
 The two were wed in 1942 and, after a brief stint living in Fort Meade, Md., while Mr. Schluter was still in the Army, they returned to Washington. 
  
 While he went to work as a barber, she found life at home lonely. Both had grown up in big families and it seemed natural to begin to take in groups of foster children, many of them physically or mentally disabled. In a story to mark their anniversary in March, The Spokesman-Review of Spokane reported that they had taken in 120 children over the decades, a number that Mrs. Schluter confirmed. 
  
 Mr. Schluter opened his own business in the Hillyard suburb of Spokane, Harvey’s Shop, and worked as a barber for 45 years. But he told The Spokesman-Review in 2013 that his most rewarding life achievement was being a foster parent (along with playing the banjo). 
  
 Spokane, in eastern Washington, never sees hurricanes, of course. And in their long lives and travels in a motor home to visit their grown foster children, the Schluters managed to avoid the major hurricanes that struck hard enough to have their names retired over the decades. That list is long but includes Hazel in the 1950s; Carla, Hilda and Inez in the 1960s; Agnes and David in the 1970s; Allen, Gilbert and Hugo in the 1980s; Andrew and Mitch in the 1990s; and Isabel, Ivan, Katrina and Felix in the 2000s. 
  
 Mrs. Schluter did not recall ever being seriously affected by other weather events, including snowstorms and earthquakes, which are more common in Washington. She did say that she and Mr. Schluter had stayed inside over the last several days because of the smoke from the wildfires plaguing the Pacific Northwest. ||||| With the 2015 Atlantic hurricane season ramping up, the tiny island of Dominica has already been slammed by Tropical Storm Erika, leaving at least 20 dead and setting the country’s development agenda back by as many years. While meteorologists are predicting a relatively calm year, that devastation and the recent anniversary of Hurricane Katrina are heart-rending reminders of just how capricious and cruel hurricanes can be. 
  
 Not since 1979 has that cruelty been associated exclusively with traditionally feminine names. Today, hurricane names are chosen by the World Meteorological Organization each year using a system that alternates alphabetically between predetermined male and female names (no, they don’t take name requests, though they receive hundreds each year). The result is a gender-balanced rundown of tropical tyrants. This year, we’ve already seen Ana, Bill, Claudette, and Danny. But a look back at the history of hurricane naming shows that tropical storms that developed over the Atlantic Ocean were, for a time, strictly female. 
  
 For several hundreds of years, Caribbean islanders named storms after the patron saint of the calendar day on which they struck. “San Filipe the First” and “San Filipe the Second” both hit Puerto Rico on September 13 — in 1876 and 1928, respectively. At the end of the 19th Century, meteorologist Clement Wragge proposed naming storms after letters in the Greek alphabet, but the idea didn’t catch on until World War II — for Army and Navy meteorologists, more succinct names offered an easy way to transmit information over short-wave radio. In 1953, after a brief two-year period of using the Greek alphabet, meteorologists scrapped the idea and began using only English-language female names. 
  
 Why feminize a weather system that carries with it the potential to wreak havoc? The maritime tradition of labeling the sea as female might have played a role. The book Storm by George R. Stewart offers another possible explanation. Written in 1941 and popular at the time, it tells the story of a tropical storm named “Maria” that made landfall on the coast of California and caused widespread devastation. It’s also possible that Army and Navy meteorologists, in a questionably affectionate gesture, may have named the deadly storms after sweethearts back home. 
  
 Female-only hurricane naming persisted until a growing number of women breaking into meteorology in the mid-1970’s shed light on the inherently sexist practice. Not only were hurricanes referred to as “she” by the media, they were also described using clichés of supposedly feminine behaviors, sometimes “teasing,” or “flirting,” with coastlines. But the push to use male names was met with outrage cloaked in the fear that male names wouldn’t inspire enough caution. A piece in The Houston Post, published on January 4, 1977, reads, “Would a hurricane with a man’s name convey the same sense of imminent danger as, say, a Hurricane Carla? Chalk it up to the feminine mystique, but it’s doubtful that a National Hurricane Center bulletin that Tropical Storm Al had formed in the Gulf or Hurricane Jake was threatening the Texas Coast would make us run for cover quite as fast.” 
  
 In 1978, the weather community agreed to include male names on the roster, citing pressure from individuals and groups like the National Organization for Women. The first male-named hurricane in the system, “Bob,” developed in July 1979 and made landfall on the Louisiana coastline. In a seething essay for the Houston Chronicle, columnist Joe Doggett wrote, “I am insulted and offended by this sell-out labeling of storms. “Bob” rather than “Barbara” or “Brenda” or “Betsy” typifies the lack of character that seems to be stifling the ’70s.” He went on to write, “Whoever insisted that a proportionate number of tropical storms must now sprout whiskers certainly couldn’t be from around here … The storm, for better or worse, is a lady. Bob, the first manchild of the National Hurricane Center, marks the first time ever that seafarers must wait to receive a gentleman caller.” 
  
 After more than 30 years with the gender-balanced hurricane naming system, a recent study found that Doggett and other skeptics might have been way off-the-mark. Data published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences in 2014 suggests that, ironically, female-named hurricanes have been subconsciously perceived as less threatening by the public, leading to less preparedness and, in turn, causing more damage. But adopting an all-male cast of storms might not be a valid way to more safely meet this year’s hurricane season. The findings have been met with skepticism, given that they include the years between 1950 and 1978, when all hurricanes were assigned female names. ||||| When Harvey and Irma Schluter said “I do,” Franklin D. Roosevelt was president of the United States, the cost of a new car was $920 and former heavyweight boxer Muhammad Ali was about 2 months old. 
  
 Fast-forward to Sunday, when the pair celebrated a milestone most married couples could only dream of: 75 years together. Surrounded by friends, family and churchgoers at the First Free Methodist Church in northwest Spokane, the pair – whose added age clocks in at just under 200 years – swore the achievement wasn’t anything particularly special. 
  
 “It’s not hard,” Irma said straight-faced. “Not at all.” 
  
 This axiom seems to be a theme for these two, who fostered more than 120 children, many of whom were physically or developmentally disabled. They had two children of their own to boot. 
  
 “It’s pretty amazing, huh?” said Dona Schluter, their 47-year-old daughter who was adopted when she was 3. “They’re the most loving, wonderful, giving people I know.” 
  
 As the couple sat and ate their pinwheel sandwiches and snacked on pieces of cake, lines of people waited to sneak in, steal a handshake or a kiss, or lean in for a warm embrace. 
  
 For years, the two have been members of the First Free Methodist Church, where they taught Sunday school. 
  
 Virginia “Jiny” Denison, a 90-year-old friend known for her famous “Jiny hugs,” remembers the first day she met them. 
  
 “They were in the basement of the old church, and they were teaching a group of kids,” she said. “They had a bird’s nest with little blue eggs in it, and they were teaching them about it. They were fantastic teachers.” 
  
 Denison was married twice herself, once for 35 years and again for 21. Her most recent marriage ended when her husband died 10 days before their anniversary. 
  
 “Of course, that doesn’t even come close to 75,” she said. 
  
 In addition to fostering children, Harvey owned a barbershop in Hillyard named Harvey’s Shop. Many of the churchgoers would receive haircuts from the retired Army serviceman, including a few of the church’s former pastors. 
  
 But not James Leman, who’s been pastor of the church for 11 years. His wife chops his hair, and she keeps his short and simple. Still, she has an admirer. 
  
 “He says she does a good job,” Leman said of Harvey while motioning to his hair. 
  
 For most of their long lives, Harvey, who turned 103 in August, and Irma, 92, would take in groups of children whose parents had abandoned them. While they only adopted one, many of the kids who are now adults keep close contact with the two, often referring to them lovingly as “Mom and Dad.” 
  
 Dale Jorgenson, 54, stayed with them until he was about 18. He remembers helping to look after some of the younger kids and teaching them how to bowl and play softball. Some of his favorite memories in the house, though, were when he got to sing with Harvey. 
  
 “Me and Dad, we used to, on Sunday, we used to harmonize with each other in the basement,” he said. “That was a blessing.” 
  
 Asked why the couple wanted to help raise more than 100 children, Irma simply said: “I don’t know, we just did. They were interesting little people.” |||||
A: 
Some longtime married couples become famous for visiting Cracker Barrels; others make headlines because they share names with back-to-back hurricanes. The latter is the case for Harvey and Irma Schluter, who've been wed for 75 years and were surprised to see Hurricane Harvey and Hurricane Irma threatening to wreak havoc across the US one right after the other. "I don't know how that worked out," 92-year-old Irma marvels to the New York Times. Here's how: Tropical storms and hurricanes born in the Atlantic used to be given female names only, but that "sexist" system was changed in 1979, per the Times. Six master lists of names rotate, and Irene has always come after Harvey. But especially costly or deadly storms have their names retired, so Irene was iced after 2011's Hurricane Irene and Irma took her place. The humans Harvey, now 104, and Irma are a much more pleasant topic. They met while Irma was still in high school, and she was reluctant to date the much-older Harvey—but he talked her into getting married in 1942, before she was even out of high school. The Spokesman-Review recently posted a story on their 75th wedding anniversary, including the fact that the couple has taken in more than 120 foster children over the years, many of them disabled. "They're the most loving, wonderful, giving people I know," one of those children, now 47, tells the paper about the pair, who also had two children of their own. But while they're seeing their names linked to hurricanes, the Schluters are actually holed up at home in Washington state to keep away from the smoke from another natural disaster: the Pacific Northwest wildfires.