My heart aches after hearing the sad news about the devastating killer tornados as they landed and disrupted life in six states this past weekend. Many lost their lives, many lost their belongings, but many, especially children, will be forever scarred from the horror of the event.
I have lived through two tornados and the aftermath as a child. The first one was when we lived in Wichita Falls, Texas - I was in second grade (April 1964). The elementary school was about three blocks away, and the wind ferociously swayed my body and tangled my hair as I worked hard to get home. As I entered the house, Mom notified me that we were going to the neighbor’s cellar immediately and instructed me to bring my bookbag. I was scared but felt safe with my Mom. She guided us down the stairs to the cellar where it was dark and musty smelling, only a single light-bulb illuminating the cement room. Placed in the corner of the room was a wooden bench which my Mom instructed me to sit down and do my homework.
What was she thinking? I wasn’t going to be able to focus on my studies! I was nervous! I was scared! I reached in the bag, retrieved a book, opened it, but could not look at the page displayed. A radio was squawking - the adults were trying to hear the news and weather report. Mom said we could return home after what felt like hours (only about 45 minutes), explaining that a tornado had touched down but thankfully not near us. It hit near Shepperd Airforce Base and a nearby subdivision on the north side of town. The tornado was categorized as an F-5 and killed seven people. The film clip linked below shows the devastation. Although it is black and white, it shows clearly the mess that a tornado can leave. https://texasarchive.org/2012_00678
The second tornado I lived through happened in Wray, Colorado, on the northeastern plains of the state. I was in eighth grade. This tornado happened to hit a trailer park. And ironically, one of the cartographers working with my father had a small trailer that he had hooked to his government truck as he was leaving the next day. Unfortunately, the tornado hit him, turned his trailer upside down but luckily he was not injured – just scared. As the tornado hit, my friend Joyce, my sister Vickie, and I were at the theater in the small downtown area, watching the Clint Eastwood movie, Two Mules for Sister Sara. Suddenly, halfway through the film, everything went black; we heard what sounded like a freight train and quickly grabbed our ears due to the extreme pressure. A mass of moviegoers started running up the aisles to the entrance. Shattered glass was everywhere. People were crying and questioning what had happened. Before long, Joyce’s father, who lived on the other side of town, maneuvered through deep water and appeared in his large, elevated pickup. The three of us carefully wadded through the water and packed together in the front seat.
My family lived one block over and backed to the main street stores with an alley separating us. The electrical lines were down, so finding a safe path to drive was tricky. When we pulled up in front of my house, we were shocked to see the giant oak tree pulled out of the ground along with the sidewalk and lying across the road blocking travel. We were fortunate it didn’t fall in the direction of our house.
I have tried to give you a small glimpse into the book I’m writing about my childhood. I also want readers to be aware of and understand how destructive and devastating these acts of nature can be for everyone involved – including the rescue workers and those that help with clean-up and rebuilding. Many are left with only the clothes on their backs. If you can, please help assist these folks to get their lives back to normal through Red Cross Disaster Donations https://www.redcross.org/donate/disaster-relief.html/ or whatever charitable organization you support. A little matters – just as much as a lot!
All my best,
Julie