Something Creative
Mom called me tonight with a bit of poetic circumstance…apparently my hometown area is under a severe weather warning—specifically a tornado warning. Now unless you are VERY familiar with my life this statement will seem quite random. Allow me to elucidate.
On a hot, muggy June morning in 1993 I woke up & went off to my summer nanny job. I spent all day with the kids & we had a couple of tornado watches throughout the day. The sky was that two-day old bruise color…faint blue with mottled green & dark purple. Angry heavy clouds swirled in every direction & every so often you’d see a finger of darker cloud push toward the ground. As the afternoon wore on the sky lightened to a yellow-greenish color & the clouds thinned a bit. We got news that two towns (Chandler, MN & Lake Wilson, MN) not far away were almost completely destroyed by tornados in the afternoon.
I got home from work & helped out around the house (hey this is my story so if I say I helped I did…truth is I probably went to my room & read) ate supper & who knows what else. I do know that by 9:30 or so I was ensconsed in my room (lying on my stomach in bed) reading. I was starting to think it was time to take my contacts out when suddenly the power went out (it was about 10:30). I got up off the bed & looked out my south window which faced the yard.
As my eyes adjusted to the light I saw something straight out of a movie… a calf hut (a large white poly dome structure for keeping baby calves penned up…keeps them healthier than if in a community pen) was moving across the yard at a rapid pace. Oh yeah & it was a couple feet off the ground. I could hear yelling downstairs so I turned & vaulted my bed without touching it (I’m 5’2”, it was a queen-size bed…I discovered later that I put my heel throuth the window yet managed not to get cut.) & flew down the stairs. Dad was keeping an eye on the storm while Mom was grabbing my baby sister (who is nearly 21 now) & I headed back upstairs to wake my 4 brothers. My sister M was helping Mom & we were all to meet in the basement. I got TJ, Dan & Robert grouped together & pointed downstairs. Andy was asleep so I flung him over my shoulder & headed for what I thought was the stairs. In all the confusion I got turned around & nearly ended up going back into my room. I ran into the door frame & whipped around it onto the stairs. I don’t think my feet really touched them but I know I jumped at least half way down when I heard a window get blown out somewhere in the second story.
As I pelted through the kitchen I handed Andy over to M & grabbed my youngest sister as Mom held her over the railing to the basement. We flew to the relative safety of the southwest corner & huddled there crying & scared. Mom joined us & Dad checked in on us a bit before creeping up to lie on the landing & peer out the screen door window. One of the basement windows blew open, ripping the latches right off so I jumped up & stood bracing both arms across it to keep stuff from blowing in.
(As I write this I am reliving it all in slow motion…in fact everything took far less time than it is taking me to type it up.)
Then just as quickly as the storm began it was calm & almost deathly silent. We were all shocked by the sudden cessation of noise. When people describe the sound of a tornado as comparable to a freight train they aren’t kidding. It’s as close to a good description as I’ve got. The howling of the wind coupled with the grinding, breaking, cracking, tearing sounds of all you own being battered by a force of nature is beyond clear comprehension unless you’ve been there first hand.
Slowly we emerged from the basement; everybody moved into the living room & huddled on the sofa. Dad, Mom & I cautiously poked our heads outside to survey the damage. Dad went to check on the barn & dairy cattle. Mom & I were horrified to see that one wall of the garage (which was maybe 6 feet from the house) had been peeled back like a banana skin & the roof and fallen down on Dad’s truck. The power line from the pole to the house had been ripped out & was tangled in a group of trees on the far side of the garage.
Dad came back—he was shocked & crying—the barn was gone. It was nothing but a pile of match sticks. One corner of the barn was resting on top of the milk tank & the rest was as flat as if it had been steamrolled. Thankfully the cows were out in the pasture or we’d have lost every one of them.
As we wandered back inside I headed to the bathroom to remove my contacts by candle light. As I turned from the sink I glanced out the window into the back yard. My scream brought everybody running. Our row of pine trees was gone. The first was snapped off jaggedly at about 6’ and the last in the row was cleanly cut off right at ground level.
The local sheriff showed up at one point to check on us & see if there were any survivors…we were beyond jubilant to report that there were no injuries to any of us. It was a less than restful night when we all finally laid down for some sleep…
Daylight revealed the full extent of the destruction: a swath of debris lay the entire length of our farm & some 2 miles beyond. Wagon & tractor frames were bent from the force of the winds. We found all manner of bizarre things that are typical in any story of a tornado. Still we counted the things that had survived without lasting damage; namely each member of the family.
Things were difficult & it took a few months to figure out what direction the family would end up following. Oddly enough the path of destruction led to the farm where we moved and my folks still live. I guess the most difficult thing was I had a pretty good idea how bad things were (oh did I forget to mention that we also got hailed out about 2 days after the tornado…yep almost all our crops were destroyed too) & yet didn’t have the means to help. But that’s something to be discussed at another time (maybe).
Which brings me back to the phone call from Mom…when she called to say they were under a tornado warning the last 16 years vanished in a backward rush. It was like being sucked backwards in some fancy movie special effect to that dark hallway at the top of the stairs with my sleeping brother over one shoulder & the feeling that the world was being ripped apart. One thing that has been a lasting effect is that often when a wild storm is approaching you can find me standing outside, head thrown back to track the clouds in their race toward almost certain mayhem.
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Dona Langswierdt
