My father was and continues to be fascinated by tornadoes and all storms for that matter. He has very vivid and happy memories of sitting on his family's front porch with his grandfather watching a storm roll in as lightning would strike in the distance. I wasn't there with my father and his grandfather obviously, but I envision them both trying to be the first to point out the next ominous dark cloud or flash of light at the 2 o'clock position. That was not my mom's childhood experience. As the daughter of a farmer who raised livestock and crops, tornadoes meant that my grandparent's ability to support the family was on the line. Hail often accompanies aggressive storms and the combination can wipe out that season's hard work in an instant.
When I was in high school, my mom was in a horrible car accident and we celebrated her release from a wheel chair with dinner out one night. During the day, the weather was wonderful. The skies were cloudless and the most beautiful color of sheer blue. Streets were filled with bicycles, and everyone drove with their windows down. Spring had officially sprung.
It wasn't long into our celebratory dinner that the weather quickly changed. The owner of our favorite restaurant yelled to all patrons that we had to leave immediately. There wasn't enough room in his facility for everyone and there was a tornado headed right for us. This was my mom's living nightmare. She wasn't entirely mobile as she struggled with crutches and a cast that extended to her knee. We were eight miles from the safety of our basement. We quickly got into our car. The sirens howled warning us that we were tempting Mother Nature. Run for your life.
The sky was now pitch black to shades of muddy green. There was no motion in newly-bloomed trees, no chorus from the birds. We were vulnerable in our vehicle trying to outrun the storm. Once we were on the highway, the winds picked up to violent levels. The heavy rain followed. Windshield wipers at the highest setting could not come close to clearing the windshield for my father's eyes. We were the only car on the road.
I remember thinking that we had to keep my mom calm. She started reciting the Lord's Prayer. Silently nudging my sister to look behind us, we could see the wall of the tornado when lighting flashed in two-second intervals. It couldn't have been more than a half-mile away from us. Knowing that this sight would throw my mom into complete panic, my sister and I were quiet about what we were witnessing. I simply asked my dad to go faster.
As I looked toward my dad and the steering wheel, I noticed that he was fighting to keep the car on the road. Then the orange glow of the "low fuel light" lit up the console like a Christmas tree. You've got to be kidding me. Our car moved faster now, the wind was letting up a little. I heard the next day in school that several families lost barns and buildings and I was keenly aware that I had probably seen it happen as I watched the tornado move across the farmland behind us.
We got to our house safely. My mom disregarded all instructions from her doctor's visit that day and ran into our house directly to the basement. My sister and I followed. My dad stayed upstairs to watch the sky and call around to check on his business. Needless to say, we were all okay, and without any suggestion to the contrary, we celebrated my mom's next healing milestones in the comfort of our own home close to her weather radio and steps away from our basement.
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