A Day of Change

Weather is a very complex entity. The idea that one atmosphere can have an infinite amount of individual scenarios, interconnected yet separate, is quite perplexing. It happens everyday across the globe where one area can be utterly silent and serene and the next is wreaking havoc.  Because the weather is such a non-issue the majority of the time, it seems very hard for people, myself included, to register the atmosphere as a legitimate force in our thoughts. We hear of hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes, ice storms, but we automatically register all of those items in our mind as "non-threatening" because those things would never affect us. Right?

My mother has always been an avid tv weather watcher. Countless times growing up she would make Scott and I go downstairs, no matter what time of night, forcing us to drag our pillows and blankets until the storm passed. And by storm, I mean tornado. I used to get very annoyed with her insistence, even remarking, "You always say it is coming towards us and then nothing ever happens." It is far too easy to have that mentality. Over the years, I have progressively understood more of why my mother always watches the tv. With every storm that comes through and leaves destruction in its path, someone out there was affected. Someone lost their car, home, business, or even loved one. And it is so simple to label that person as just a "someone" rather than someone's friend, sister, dad, or son. Because a tornado would never actually affect me. Right?

On the morning of April 27, 2011 I was awoken by absurdly loud thunder and the constant blind flash of lightening coming though my window. I immediately turned on the tv to learn more about this storm, and for James Spann to tell me whether or not I should go downstairs (I wholeheartedly trust James Spann. You'll learn more on why later). The synopsis of what he said was that a large thunderstorm with major straight-line winds was passing over me, but everything should be okay. However, he repeatedly kept mentioning how this morning's storms were just a mere precursor for what was to follow later in the day. He couldn't give precise details on what or when, but he said there was an extremely high probability for immensely severe weather beginning at noon until midnight. "Super," I thought. Let's not try to narrow it down or anything.

Later that morning, I went into work as planned and was scheduled to have two classes later that afternoon. My actions basically followed the same pattern for several hours: check email, check weather, do work. I was monitoring James Spann's weather blog and twitter account because those seem to have the most up to date information. It was all very confusing because here we are supposed to be having such bad weather and it is clear, pretty skies outside. Around 12:30, I saw a tweet from James Spann responding to someone from Tuscaloosa asking when the bad weather was supposed to hit. His response was something like, "Right now the atmosphere is capped. As the cap erodes within the next hour, things are going to explode." That didn't sound too promising to me. A few minutes later, I received an email from my finance teacher canceling my 3:30 class, so I decided to go ahead and get home. If the weather lightened up, I would try and get to my 5:00 Econ class, if not, I would just have to miss my professor's opinion on "What caused the Financial Crisis." Darn.

After running by the grocery store, I got back home around 2:00. With plenty of homework and studying to be done, I plopped on the couch in the living room, spread out my stuff, turned on James Spann, and was ready to ride the storm out. Nothing was probably going to happen, but at least this way I would watch the weather while I studied. I think it was around 3:00 that Gig and I were sitting there doing homework when we saw a storm starting to form over Cullman. We literally watched a large black cloud   blanket the sky, quickly form into a tornado, and bulldoze through the city. Both of us sat there in awe as this incredible force ravaged everything in its path. Yet even as we were watching a live tornado in real time, it still didn't seem possible that anything like that could affect us. Right?

Over the next two hours, so many storms kept popping up on the radar screen that it was literally hard to keep track of all them. James Spann kept jumping back and forth to all different parts of central and north Alabama trying to keep focus where it was needed. Around 4:30, a set of two storms started to appear that were both southwest of Tuscaloosa. The storms were interconnected, but there were two separate tornadoes at the far west of the mass.  James said that the more northern tornado would most likely hit the upper edge of Tuscaloosa county and the southern tornado would hit between downtown Tuscaloosa and Northport. At this point, we started watching the weather closely and as the minutes passed it became more and more clear that the southern tornado was headed our way.

It started raining outside and the sky became darker. The tornado was supposed to come over us in about 15 minutes and we were watching the vortex headed our way on the screen. It seemed to be growing in size and width and was extremely dark.  There were six of us at our house, all four roommates, Taylor, and Ben. Our "safe place" was our walk-in pantry in the middle of our two-story house. We moved the trashcan and other boxes out of the way so that all six of us could fit inside with the door closed. James Spann said to put on bike helmets if you had them, and of course we didn't, so I passed out large plastic bowls for everyone to put on their head. You might laugh (which is partially justified because it is a very comical image), but head injuries are one of the top causes of fatalities during tornadoes. It was worth a shot. Mom called me about this point almost hysterical on the phone. All I remember was her saying "Christy you are going to have to hold the pantry door closed!" and me telling her I loved her. Around 8 minutes out, we lost our power and all got in the pantry.  It was eerily quiet, but still raining. After about two minutes, we heard the rain stop, and our power came back on. We thought that might be it. Stace went and looked outside and I was waiting for the cable to turn back on. Later I learned from Stace that she saw the clouds moving in the opposite direction that the normally do. At that same moment, the cable turned on and it showed a massive tornado (over half a mile wide) and James Spann said it should be over University Mall in less than a few minutes. We live about two minutes from University Mall. At that moment I yelled for everyone to get back in the pantry and to shut the door. Somewhere in this time period our power went out again. All six of us in the pantry, I began profusely shaking and I could not control my breathing. It literally felt like my lungs would not allow me to take in air. Trent called me and said something (I couldn't comprehend words at that point) and I just remember telling him I loved him and I had to go. Maybe thirty seconds passed, and then came the noise. Everyone always says it sounds like a train, which for some reason I always thought they meant the horn of a train. No, it is just the train. It is a very loud rumble that just sounds as if it is surrounding you. We heard several loud crashes and within a matter of minutes, it was silent again.

We walked out of the pantry and opened our front door. There were leaves and branches all over the parking lot. A truck had a large limb of a tree on it and several people's grills were overturned. Somehow, Allison's tomato plant stood strong. Our entire complex of houses seemed to be intact, with a few minor broken fans. All of us immediately were trying to call home and let everyone know we were okay, but of course all of the phone lines were messed up and overloaded. It took me about fifteen minutes before somehow Trent got through to me on Gig's phone. Looking back, I am not sure which is worse: hearing a tornado over top you, or watching a tornado go over top your loved ones on tv. Hopefully, I will never have to do either again in my lifetime.

At this point, the rest of the evening consisted of the same things: trying to call/text/respond to people with terrible service, walking around amazed of the devastation and checking on people, and trying to keep track if another tornado was headed our way. The more we surveyed the area, the more we realized how lucky and truly blessed we were to make it through that storm with virtually no damage. It is extremely hard to put into words what the devastation looks and feels like. The best I can sum it up with is breathtaking and heartbreaking.  While the pictures are horrible and might make you gasp, remember that those are a mere snapshot of one tiny section of the landscape. Until you stand there on the ground and for a full 360˚ there is only rubble, you can't simply fathom it.


Now, over a week after the storms, we know exactly the extent of the devastation. 41 fatalities (5 of which were students), over 1,000 injuries, 30 people still unaccounted for, and hundreds of homes and businesses destroyed. With all of this, I ask of you three things. 
1. Pray. Pray for all of those affected by the tragic storms, not only in Tuscaloosa, but throughout the entire Southeast. Pray for faith, compassion, resiliency, and that we give all the glory to God.
2. Help. If you, in any way, can assist the people and towns affected, please do so. There are so many options, including donating money to the Red Cross, giving old clothes, providing different food and necessity items, and of course, actually coming to the devastation and volunteering. All of it is needed and beyond appreciated. So many people have lost literally everything. Think about everything that is in your house: your clothes, belongings, family heirlooms. All of it gone. 
3. As hard as it is, try your best to not have a "it won't happen to me" mentality. If it can happen to us, it can happen to you. Take precautions and be safe.

This is a video of the storm that someone took from my housing complex. If I had walked out my front door during the storm, this is what I would have seen.