An Event That Lives On In My Mind

I’ve only seen one tornado. That was in Iowa when I was about eleven. The morning started out sultry and hot. It became so hot and humid the air seemed to turn a grayish-green color and the cows in the lower pasture kept mooing as though distressed by something. About 3:00 p.m., Papa came running into the back porch where Mama and I were working at the kerosene stove (it was too hot too work in the kitchen that had a wood burning stove) He was yelling, "Get to the cave now."

Mother's face started to redden, but she quickly turned off the burner without arguing (something she would do automatically with Papa) and we rushed outside to see a tornado churning towards us. The cave was but a few feet from the back porch door and we made it record time. My youngest brother, Gordie, was already there and we started to go down when Papa said, "It's all right, the tornado is going up again."

We came back up the steps and watched the tornado lift up and over just to the northwest of where we stood. For some reason the rain or wind waited until the tornado was in the northwest. Had we been in a quiet area of the storm?” We watched it veer back to a more westerly direction. Later we learned it did touch down in a field about three miles west of us and had taken out a shed and cattle enclosure.

We were so lucky compared to those who have been hit with the destructive force of a tornado.