Sunday, June 2, 2013


Growing up in California we didn't have tornadoes. We had plenty of fires and earthquakes, but no tornadoes.  Heck, even lightning was rare.  So my first tornado was in Arkansas.  We'd gone back to visit my grandmother.  Everyone had gone to bed when there was this horrible roar.  And everything had a green look, from what you could see.  I hit the floor as I fumbled around to put my shoes on.  Frankly, it was very scary. The funnel sort of hopped over my grandmother's house, took out a tree down the street, then came down again and made a mess of the town park.  This was a small little town. Miraculously, no one lost their homes and everyone sort of shrugged it off.   I suspect it was a EF 1 or 2, from what I know about the ranking scale---nothing like the EF 5's seen recently.

The morning paper said there were other "tornacadoes" over in Oklahoma. I guess the copy editor was a bit rattled. I vividly remember the spelling.  Anyway, no real damage and life went on.  But, if that funnel had come down a few feet more, I'm certain my grandmother's house would have gone.  It was that close. I could feel the air leaving as it was. 

For some reason, the California earthquakes never bothered me that much. And I was glad we didn't have to worry about tornadoes. 

I've just sent a modest donation to the Red Cross. There's not much I can do to help the many victims of the recent tornadoes but I guess every little bit helps.  There's just  a bit of "There but for the grace of God go I" in these recent disasters.

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