Welcome to Tornado Alley

Late Saturday afternoon, after the Lange family left, I battled my locked-up computer while keeping an eye on the television. Every five or ten minutes the local television station beep-beep-beeped, interrupting regular programming so the weatherman could warn us of the coming storm. With the entire area under a tornado watch, the map on the screen lit up with bright reds and greens.

I looked over my computer screen to see Carl putting on his shoes. "Are you going somewhere?" I asked.

"I'm taking Hannah fishing. Is that OK with you?"

"Sure."

After he left the room the tornado watch became a tornado warning for our county. "Doppler has indicated rotation in the clouds above Altamont. Seek shelter immediately. Smallville is directly in the line of this storm," the weatherman said and continued by telling the viewing area to abandon their cars, go to a basement or small interior room, and never try to outrun a twister. I hobbled outside to talk with Carl about the tornado. It wasn't even raining here.

"I think you should wait a few minutes before you leave. The weatherman said there's rotation above Altamont, headed here to Smallville."

"Ah, it's not going to rain," he said, "but I'll wait." Living through dozens of tornado warnings over the years has left us dangerously insensitive, more fascinated than fearful.

Inside, I told the girls to find their shoes and a flashlight, but felt no fear. Only electric excitement. They gathered an odd assortment of toys into a shoebox, then carried them outside where we stood under the upstairs deck and watched the first sprinkles of rain fall.

"I'm scared," Hailey said, which put a spark of fear in Hannah's eyes.

"Don't say S-C-A-R-E-D or someone else will get S-C-A-R-E-D too. I'm not scared. This is exhilarating!"

The Smallville tornado whistle began blowing, the wind waved the trees precariously, and the rain poured down in sheets. "I'm sceh-wd," Hannah said.

"This isn't scary. It's fun," I said as I picked Hannah up.

"Shouldn't we go to the storm shelter?" Katie asked.

"Nah," I replied as I watched Carl, wearing his camo rain gear, use the rain water to help him sweep the patio with a yellow-bristled shop broom.

The next five minutes passed in strange anticipation, hoping for and dreading the potential thrill at the same time. Thankfully our small town experienced very little damage, unlike Picher, Oklahoma, which was leveled by a twister from this same storm cell.



Within ten minutes, the sun shone again and rain sprinkled so lightly I'm not sure I wasn't merely feeling droplets falling from the leaves overhead. Carl and Hannah left for the pits. While they fished, Katie, Hailey, and I ate popcorn for supper and watched the movie Enchanted.