I've said before on this blog that I am afraid of tornadoes. And last night reminded me of why...
The storm appeared on the radar, but it wasn't until the hail began slamming into everything that I realized how nasty it was. My son and I watched out the front window as pebbles of hail turned into baseballs of hail, each one slamming and bouncing off the sidewalk, the roof, the windows, the truck. The noise of it was amazing.
And just like that, the storm ended.
We went out to survey the damage. Hail everywhere. The neighbor girl brought over handfuls of hail that were 2-3 inches in diameter. The truck has a golf-ball sized dent on the hood and several smaller ones scattered about.
The neighbor said another line of storms was on the radar, this set including conditions for tornadoes. We went back into the house, and sure enough, the radar showed tons of red on the weather map...red that matched the red screen posted by the emergency alert service.
I put the little guy to sleep just as the wind and rain picked up. The light through the blinds cast a green glow. And that's when my heart began to pound.
I looked at the front window. Lightning flashes every second. The thunder a constant and unending roar. Wind ripping the rain around in swirling torrents.
The phone rang.
My dad was calling from his basement. They had just been hit. Hard. Nearly every tree on the property uprooted or snapped in half. My mom was calming down from a near-frantic state. As the power had gone out and as the freight train sound engulfed them, she had screamed to my father, "I'm so scared!"
Knowing your parent is scared? It scares you. No matter how old you are.
My husband wasn't home, so I called him. Left a message for him to come home because I was scared.
By the time he arrived, which wasn't too long after I called, the storm had abated.
Today? Dents in my truck. Leaves coating the roads. Fog and mist on the mountains. Power outages in some areas. Destroyed trees and fences at my parents' house.
I still remember being told as a kid (and as the oldest sibling) that if we ever had a tornado while my parents were doing chores in the barn, it was my job to get my siblings to the safety of my aunt's basement.
That responsibility haunts me still.
The phone rang.
My dad was calling from his basement. They had just been hit. Hard. Nearly every tree on the property uprooted or snapped in half. My mom was calming down from a near-frantic state. As the power had gone out and as the freight train sound engulfed them, she had screamed to my father, "I'm so scared!"
Knowing your parent is scared? It scares you. No matter how old you are.
My husband wasn't home, so I called him. Left a message for him to come home because I was scared.
By the time he arrived, which wasn't too long after I called, the storm had abated.
Today? Dents in my truck. Leaves coating the roads. Fog and mist on the mountains. Power outages in some areas. Destroyed trees and fences at my parents' house.
I still remember being told as a kid (and as the oldest sibling) that if we ever had a tornado while my parents were doing chores in the barn, it was my job to get my siblings to the safety of my aunt's basement.
That responsibility haunts me still.
Wow Nichole! I'm so glad all of you are okay!! xo
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