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Just reaching out, on this very rainy night in Oklahoma City, to say that all is well. That I’m glad it’s June. That I hope the end of May will mean that the worst of storms are behind us. And most of all, that my mental flipping of the calendar page has me thinking, seriously for the first time, of adding a safe room to our home.
On storm infested nights like this, it helps to acknowledge that my family and I have weathered another wave of May storms. No small feat, this year, since it seems everyone here knows someone that knows someone that lost something big on May 20th. Homes. Businesses. Peace of mind… whether watching on the sidelines or suffering a direct hit.
I don’t yet know what additional damage has come from tonight’s storms. Instead, I know there were too many too close for comfort calls in May. My family alone knows three family members of students pulled alive from the rubble of Plaza Towers and Briarwood Elementary Schools. And while I don’t know anyone from the families suffering the loss of loved ones, I feel connected to them nevertheless. It’s been that way since May 20th, since I first watched the “Moore” tornado form on live t.v, as I listened to familiar street names, rattled off by excited weathermen, become coordinates of the twister’s vectored path… to realize.. that these intersections were home to large residential areas, that schools and churches were located there… that one coordinate was the location of my youngest daughter’s first home… another just blocks from my youngest child’s home till a month ago. it was beyond surreal.
I didn’t know, until the twister had almost run its course, that my eldest daughter and her family were lying in wait for the EF-5 to hit, either in borrowed storm shelters or in buildings lying in the twister’s direct path. In my mind, I had them all safely tucked out of harm’s way. I don’t know why. But perhaps I was playing some sort of Proustian mind-game… to believe what I needed to believe was true.
Yes, no doubt about it… on nights like this, full of tornado warnings and hail and torrential rainfall and flash floods, full of stress and fear and uncertainty of whether to flee or face incoming storms at home… it helps to remember how lucky my family and I have been … this time around the calendar. But I never knew till now, how long thirty-one days could feel.
an everyday life 
Good to see you. I was thinking about you last night while I was tracking the assorted storms, both in OKC and St. Louis. I’ve got a friend who lives in Purcell who looked it over, made her decision and skedaddled with her cat yesterday afternoon. She was holed up in a motel west of the dryline. 😉
Look at it this way – May is over, and today is the first day of hurricane season. You can relax, and I’m ready to sort through papers and check my battery supply again. Each season has its delights.
What struck me most was the resemblance ot I-35 to the roads around Houston during the Rita evacuation. I couldn’t figure it out, until I saw a tweet from a truly p-o’d Texas storm chaser who said an OKC television station was advising people to drive south to get out of the path of the storm. I just can’t believe that. Drive away, fine. But everyone being told to drive away 20 minutes before the storm hits? Uh – maybe not such good advice.
I have no idea what I’d do in a tornado. Click my heels and fly, I suppose. There are no basements in this part of the world. 😉
I’m glad you’re safe.
Thanks for kind thoughts and words. So like you.
Glad to read that your Purcell friend had the foresight to leave early. The highways, last night, were scary parking lots for sure. It’s hard to sit tight when you see neighbors abandoning the neighborhood… in search of lower or safer ground. I thought of them… wondering if they were caught in that highway mess.. or in rising flash flood waters. I hadn’t heard that bit about a local weather forecaster telling folks to flee the storm. We follow reporting from the local CBS affiliate… where we heard the exact opposite… advising travelers to NOT approach the metro… to wait it out west of El Reno… or east in Shawnee … or north in Guthrie…. etc. etc.
Since you and I are both veterans of Hurricane Rita, you’ll know what I mean when I say I believe last night’s highways were operating under the Katrina effect. I’m thinking roads would have overflowed with or without weathermen encouragement…. since the scary aftermath of the May 20th storms is still too fresh in minds to put away.
Weather patterns have been so crazy and extreme the last few years. We still have June to get through before we can call twister season over. Or do we? Our next bad spell is Tuesday, I think. Maybe hurricane season will be less of a bully. Here’s hoping it will be so.
So glad to hear you’re ok in OK. But what devastation people are going through in your community. In times like this, it’s hard to quietly enjoy reading and blogging and block out the tragedies. As you mentioned, good that the worst is over. Just yesterday on the radio, I heard that the insurance industry has noted our province Alberta has the worst record of claims due to weather. But nothing compares to what you have gone through… or Linda, close by the Gulf coast.
Thank you, Arti.
You’re so right about it being difficult to read and write right now. Last night I couldn’t sleep for pounding rain… so I got out of bed at 2am to do a little laundry and, while waiting for it to finish, I decided I might as well park a few thoughts on the blog. The post helped me empty emotions onto the page. So when I returned to bed at 6am, after being up for almost four hours, I fell instantly asleep.
Every area has their share of natural and man-made disasters and tragedies, I know. The morning and evening news overflows with it. But what is it about storms hitting in your own backyard that causes outlooks to change? I know I didn’t think at all about installing a storm shelter in the wake of the Joplin tornado two years ago. But here I am. Not only thinking about it… but trying to decide which type to purchase.
I’m sorry to hear of all the loss suffered in your own part of the world. Loss is loss. It defies size and comparison… and does a good job of humbling us all into common ground.
Are you still alive? I thought of you on July 4 – landed down in Surfside and found the Purple Cow. Didn’t stop, as there were way too many bikers to contend with, but now I have it in my mind and can go back.
Here, the story is simple. Hot. Work. Hotter, Think about retirement. Work.
And posting, which I’m still really enjoying. The one great satisfaction was having my post about “Beasts of the Southern Wild” get picked up by the movie website. That was a surprise, but quite delightful.
Otherwise – Dixie is a good kitty, my mom’s African violets bloomed profusely around the second anniversary of her death, and I swear I’m going to read a book one of these days.
As the old saying goes, “How’s by you?”
Linda,
I saw your “calling card” last night on the way to bed. Forgive me for not assuring you then that I’m not only alive but well. Most nights I crawl into bed after hard labor outside, a mix of gardening and house painting. (It’s been years since this house was properly painted with a full “prep” job.) Sometimes I wish I could let myself take a few shortcuts. But no. That’s just not who I am. And to make things a little more interesting, I’m in a mad race to get it all done before my newest “grand” arrives so I can be available to help my daughter ease into mothering two rather than one. The big date is September 15th… though my husband and I are taking a week timeout in mid-August to sail the inside passage again. Something about working in the hot sun sends me to dreaming about cooler climates… and well, Alaska is a beauty, isn’t it?
I’m not reading much either… I finally finished the first volume of Proust mid-June… which led to easier reading of a Jan Karon novel that should have taken me only a few days. But some nights, it’s all I can do to read two paragraphs before turning out the light. Sitting on my nightstand right now is “The Interestings.” I imagine I’ll still be reading it in a few weeks so I’ll wag it with me on vacation.
I celebrate your “Beasts of the Southern Wild ” success… though I’m not surprised that it happened. I also celebrate your desire to keep writing…. wish I had a little of that writing passion myself but all I want to do is spend time in the garden these days. Maybe the writing “bug” will bite me again. I hope so.
You said you thought of me on the Fourth of July. Well, I was thinking about you too about that time… as I realized the anniversary of your mother’s passing was upon us. I love that her violets bloomed then.
Thanks, Linda, for checking in on me. Your wondering whether I was still alive made me feel special. But then, you’re pretty good at that. Making folks feel special.
Janell