My mom said the air suddenly became very still that humid June evening as she stood at the kitchen window washing the dinner dishes. The air became still and the sky turned green, like pea soup.
In that split second she heard what sounded like a freight train barrelling through as she watched my dad throw grandma to the ground, laying on top of her until the storm passed.
There were downed trees and power lines everywhere in the aftermath, blocking the roads, making my dad’s search for grandpa difficult. Making the trip to the hospital difficult.
The tornado carried grandpa a mile and then just dropped him.
116 people died. Grandpa walked with a limp.
Now, when the sirens go off, I look for the stillness. I look for that pea green sky. I listen for that freight train. And I stay close to the basement.
You can read more about that epic, historic, F5 storm here.
And speaking of tornadoes: Let Go of the Dang Door!