I can't remember a more exhausting day. But here it is, better late than never.
I write this now because of a favorite quote of a favorite author of mine:
"If I can tell the story of my life artfully enough, then perhaps those who read them will, at the end of telling, be able to hear more of their own stories within." ~Robert Benson~
I adore my Motorola Android. It is a very useful addiction -- I mean, tool. It contains my entire life in one sleek, black 2 1/4 x 4 1/2 inch rectangle. I use it for lots of things, and one of its most utilitarian functions is as my alarm clock. On the morning of April 27, 2011, it was set to wake me up at 6AM. I lay in bed, still asleep, though slightly aware that my husband was up and about, getting ready for work. My 6AM alarm proved unnecessary though, because at 5:30 I was awoken by a text message, followed by a phone call. It was the Arab City school system announcing that school would be delayed until 10AM due to inclement weather ("inclement" turned out to be a huge understatement).
Mark and I turned on the local news and saw that indeed, tornadic weather was headed our way. We got the kids out of bed at 5:45 -- we told Nicholas to put his shoes on, and we changed Parker's diaper and put his shoes on as well. We all had our shoes on, and that simple fact was nerve wracking for me. It wrecked my one year old's world as well. In the first place, he had to be woken up, which is never good where one year olds are concerned. And for another, he associated putting shoes on with going outside to play. Here he is, jerked wide awake and having shoes slapped on his feet, and he's saying, "'Side? 'Side?" We tell him no -- we're going to all sit in the bathroom. With our shoes on. This did not bode well. Not at all. So there we were, all in the bathroom, the TV in the other room turned up loudly so I can hear it through the cracked door, which I'm having to barricade with my body to prevent Parker from bolting out of it as he screams and cries, "'Side!!! 'Side!!! 'Siii-iiii-iiiiiiiiide!!!!!!"
Good times.
That first tornado, though it side stepped my neck of the woods, turned out to be significant. That was the one that tore through Warrenton (at the foot of the mountain where I live), and if I am not mistaken, also hit Guntersville State Park, and then went on to Jackson County where the first death in the state of Alabama occurred.
Mark went in to work. I kept an eye on the weather while we waited for 10AM to arrive, when Nicholas could go to school.
It seems like the weather in our area quietened down for a bit, though I think some other significant weather occurred in other parts of the state that morning. I can't really remember -- there were so many tornadoes that it's all a blur to me now.
I almost didn't take Nicholas to school. I hate for him to miss if he's not truly ill. I watched the weather on TV. I got on the Internet and played and replayed many times the Weather Channel's future radar-in-motion thingy -- it looked OK to me -- so I took him to school. Something in my brain kept tugging at me though. "Keep him home. Keep him close to you." But I didn't. Off to school we went.
But around noon, I got yet another message from the school system saying that school would let out early because of the threat of bad weather. I had to rouse Parker out of his crib yet again, this time to load him in the car to pick up Nicholas. Home again, home again, jiggety-jig...
Once home, I decided I would take my brown-speckled bananas and make some banana bread. That would make a good dessert for our dinner, which was going to be homemade Sloppy Joes (don't snicker -- I make mean Joes) and sweet potato fries.
I think it was around 2:15 or so that our local weather warned of a tornado in Cullman heading straight for Arab. The sirens blared yet again. Also yet again, we all put our shoes on just to sit in the bathroom. And what transpired over the next half hour was almost apocalyptic. For the sake of posterity, I hope I remember all this correctly...
I turned the TV up loudly again, so that I could hear it while the boys and I were in the bathroom. Parker still wasn't thrilled about having shoes on and not being allowed to play outside, but he was at least quieter this time. At one point I told the boys to stay put while I stepped out to look at the TV. The news showed live footage of the tornado that had just left Cullman, and it was on its way to Arab. It was on the ground -- on the road -- it was not small -- it looked scary. I dashed back into the bathroom, but not before I had the forethought to turn the oven off and take the banana bread out. The power went on and off a couple of times. Then I opened the bathroom door to turn off the thermostat in the hallway -- I didn't think the central air unit being turned on and off repeatedly was a good thing. I heard noise outside -- not wind or thunder, and not threatening -- just noise. I picked up Parker and told Nicholas he could come with me. We looked out the front door and saw a car in the ditch directly in front of our house. The light outside was such that I could not tell if someone was inside the car, but if someone was in there, I wanted to let them know they were welcome to come into my house. I didn't feel safe leaving my porch (I have a rather large front yard -- there was lightning and I didn't know how close the tornado was), but I waved frantically and yelled, "Come inside! You can come in my house!" There was no response. The wind sounded funny. I took the boys back into the bathroom and hoped for the best for whoever belonged to that car. I shut the bathroom door. There was no power, and the bathroom literally is in the middle of my house; it has no windows, thus no light. Having no power, the TV was not on for me to hear and I was in the dark with my two children. I was in panic mode now.
The boys, being so young, didn't really know to be scared, though I'm sure they were confused. After all, we don't normally spend our time intermittently sitting in a dark bathroom. The door rattled, tapping the door frame back and forth. I opened it to let in the cat, who was inevitably pawing at the door, wanting to be where we were. I looked down, but there was no cat. When the central air is on and that bathroom door is closed, it always taps the door frame once or twice when the air kicks on. But the thermostat was off, and there was no power to run it anyway.
The door was rattling on its own -- no cat, and no power.
I told the boys to get in the bathtub. I closed the curtain -- it was pitch black in there -- the sirens were wailing -- I was crying --
Have I mentioned that I adore my Motorola Android? I'm in the bathroom. I have neither power nor Internet service, yet in the palm of my hand I have a phone, a camera, a calendar, and a computer with Internet access. "And there was light." In the glow of my phone screen I could see the three of us in the tub, Nicholas looking at me, searching my face for how he should feel and act, Parker looking at me questioningly, the radar map showing the tornado-containing storm right over my part of town...
Sounds: the ever present sirens...my frantic breathing...my voice talking to the boys -- what was I saying?...that darned door still tapping the door frame...a sort of boom-boom-boom above us...
I thought pine cones were being pelted at our roof, and rather forcefully. More wind...more panic inside me...a text message from my mom...possibly a text from one or both of my sisters -- can't remember...
Thoughts in my head: "This is so much bigger than me. I can't protect my kids. I can't keep my babies from this. I can't even protect myself. Those poor people in my front yard -- were they safe? Should I be praying right now? I don't even know how to pray about this -- where to start..."
The urge to pray was overwhelming. It was the only thing I could control, and that aspect in and of itself was measurably comforting. Nicholas knew the Lord's Prayer by heart. So I asked him if he'd pray it with me. The three of us held hands, and in the dim glow of my Droid we prayed.
Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name...
boom-boom-boom
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...
"I can't do this...I am terrified."
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...
boom-boom-boom
And lead us not into temptation, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.
The booming sounds faded away and all went quiet. Even the bathroom door was not rattling anymore. I waited another thirty seconds or so before allowing the three of us to go into the living room. We appeared to still have a roof over our heads. There was still no power, and we would soon find out that the power would not return for several days. I bade the boys to stay in the living room while I went outside to survey possible damage. A tree in my neighbor's yard was split in two. I felt bad for them. I walked around my yard further. A tree just outside my backyard fence had been uprooted and was laying on the fence, which now had a few broken boards. My father in Florida called. I am now a basket case, realizing how close the tornado had been to me. I told Dad we were fine -- just a tree down. He said there was more bad weather heading our way from Mississippi. Great. Dad said Tuscaloosa was about to get hit.
My baby brother, who is no longer a baby, lives in Tuscaloosa and is, naturally, a student at UA. He called me then as well. I told him we were all right. He said he was on his way to campus to while the coming storm away in the safety of a brick building with a basement. This made sense. That tornado hit about fifteen minutes after he and I hung up, mere blocks from where he sought safety. Though parts of Tuscaloosa were leveled, Cliff made it through all right.
I went out the back door to get a better look at my damaged fence. My two dogs reside in the backyard. When I opened the door they bolted inside, completely beside themselves. They are outside dogs with few-and-far-in-between house privileges. Not even cold cuts from the fridge could lure them back outside (believe me, I tried). I contained them in the kitchen with a baby gate. My manly-man husband would take them back outside later. I went outside, and there lay the maple tree that absolutely should not be there. It lay over the top of my fence and rested on my snowball bush (one of the only flower producing plants in the yard I have managed not to kill). I had been crying on and off all afternoon, and this sad sight made me cry some more. An uprooted tree -- fine. An uprooted tree that broke part of my fence -- fine. An uprooted tree that broke part of my fence AND damaged one of the only beautiful features in my backyard -- now that's just insult to injury!
I could not reach my husband. He later told me that the last thing he heard on the news before the power went out at work were the words, "A tornado is on the ground in Arab at Eddy Scant City Road." That is our street. It was more than two hours later before we heard each other's relieved voices.
In the mean time the sirens blared again as the tornado in Tuscaloosa headed our way, and we were back in the bathroom, shoes in tow. I cannot remember where else that tornado struck -- possibly Brown's Ferry? It's all a blur now, but it didn't come near us and that is all I cared about. All I remember is being exhausted to the point of tears, yet thankful that my boys were safe and that we were together.
Later on I allowed myself to realize that the bathroom door rattling had everything to do with the suction that the tornado produced, and that the booming sounds that I originally believed to be pine cones was the sound of the tornado itself. I also learned of what had happened to the owners of the car that was in my ditch. They were relatives of my neighbors. They had been driving down Hwy. 231, and they saw the tornado. They first tried to seek shelter in the grocery store down the street, but all the employees and shoppers had already taken shelter and the door was locked. So they came a couple of blocks up the street to their uncle's house. In their panic, they drove into the ditch, denting their front fender, and ran into my neighbor's house.
The next five days were like camping, only we got to sleep in the comfort of our own beds. We carried on like everyone else: the banana bread I'd made was yet another God send, since there was no way to cook, except on the grill; we used up what we could in the refrigerator; we filled up our gas tanks when the opportunity arose; we bought necessary supplies and food when a store opened up; we charged our phones with our car batteries; we listened to the radio; we grilled hot dogs and pineapple; we lit tons of candles and brought our garden solar lights inside when the sun went down (Nicholas and Parker would wave them around and disco dance -- who needs TV?); we told stories in the dark; we drove thirty miles away to Oneonta to get the boys out and to give all ourselves a break -- Oneonta had power, so it was a good place to get gas, shop, and eat a Happy Meal. The weather, thankfully, stayed mild -- neither too hot nor too cold, and the windows open in the house felt fine. We picked up tree limbs. The logs from the pine tree we'd had cut down were still in the yard, so we had that mess to clean up along with the mess the tornado left behind -- but we handled it.
We took a few cold showers. We also went to my sister's to shower -- her power came back before ours, so she had hot water. We did laundry at my sister-in-law's, and she made lunch for the four of us. My dad brought us gasoline, and he and mom helped us clean up debris.
On Sunday we were able to help what was known as "The Flashlight Baby." While the tornado passed by our house, and the power went out, the hospital down the street lost power too. A mother was in labor at that very moment, trying to bring her daughter into our stormy little world. The baby was literally born under a flashlight. Our local radio station announced that The Flashlight Baby needed a swing, and we had one we were more than willing to part with. It felt good to help someone, especially since so many of my family had been helping us.
Sunday was also the day our power came back on. This was a huge relief because Mark had been scheduled for several weeks to attend a work-related seminar in Orlando. Yes, at Disney World. In the aftermath of the April 27th tornadoes, he made some calls and tried to get out of going, but he was told he had to go if he was able to get to the airport. He didn't want to leave me by myself with our two boys and no power, and he would have felt guilty being in a luxury hotel while his family was still in survival mode. That thought didn't appeal to me either, I admit. But with the electricity back on, we both felt much better about him leaving. I went to Foodland and bought items to put in the refrigerator and steaks to put on the grill. Everyone in the store was celebratory because electricity was slowly but steadily being restored, and many of my fellow shoppers were carrying steaks and shrimp and fresh veggies and beer in their buggies. My family had a lovely evening, and it was what we all needed between the days behind us and the days that lay ahead.
I still have yet to make my Sloppy Joes. I'll have to get on that. I bet I can track down the recipe I use on my Droid.
