Tornado Evacuation of 2003
Summer of 2003 - Zach (10), Grant (3), Ben (7) in matching jammies courtesy of their Gma Mary
Anyone living in the Midwest has experienced ordinary summer days quickly turning into tornado scares. With greenish-colored skies, blowing winds, and screaming sirens, we take shelter in the safety of the underground. When I was growing up in Iowa, the tornado shelter for our older home was a cellar. The only access to our cellar was through an outside door.
As a child, my memories of tornado sirens are flashbacks of my dad carrying me through ripping winds. I would hold on for dear life as he pulled open the old cellar door for the rush of my family’s entrance. With a pull of the string attached to the single bulb providing light in the thick darkness, we were greeted with the smell of moist dirt. While the sounds of whipping branches filled our little ears, Mom would attempt to mute the frightening noises. She would turn up the volume on our small portable radio, our only outlet of communication from the outside world. My brothers and I would sit on the dirt floor, staring at jars of canned vegetables lining the walls while waiting for the all-clear signal.
Although the threat of tornadoes continues today, the scariness for my family is lessened. We now have convenient access to a comfy basement and real-time updates available on our big screens and smartphones. My kids haven't experienced stormy nights in a dirt cellar, but they do understand that their cushy basement is the place to be when the sirens blare.
Zach, my ever-responsible oldest son, performs brilliantly in evacuation situations like these. As much as he doesn't like the stereotype of being the ‘responsible one’, he can't run away from his genetic makeup. I have a favorite story of Zach demonstrating his innate ability to ‘run the show’ when he performed a tornado evacuation at our home. He was ten years old.
On this particular night, I was home alone with the boys while their dad was working nights. It was stormy, which was typical for summers in the Midwest. With no immediate severe weather threats, I tucked the boys in for bed.
Now is the part in the story where I need to confess a weakness of mine. I like my sleep. Once I go to bed, I savor a deep sleep until my morning alarm rings. Then I hit the snooze button about three times before waking up. When Grant was a baby, I remember telling people that he was sleeping through the night at six weeks old. In retrospect, I wonder if I just didn't wake up. On this stormy night, I was again sleeping soundly.
My first hint that something was amiss was waking up to Zach pulling on my arm and begging me to get out of bed. In a fog, I followed him into the basement as Zach guided me to a bean bag chair. He then placed our little white puppy, Harry, on my lap. Sitting on the bean bag next to me was seven-year-old Ben holding a sleepy Grant curled up in his blankie. Grant’s stuffed cat, Baxter, was snuggled in between Ben and Grant.
Stoicly turning on the big screen was Zach, with his orthodontic headgear still in place, searching for the best station for tornado updates. Adjusting the volume, Zach turned his attention to me.
Zach: "Mom, the sirens went off. How did you not hear that? We are in a tornado warning for the next forty-five minutes."
Me: "Oh?"
Looking around the basement I then realized that Zach had single-handedly evacuated our family, including me, to the safety of the basement. His younger brothers were quiet, listening for the next instruction from their older brother. Holding the dog and watching the screen, I did the same.
Me: "Thanks, Zach."
There were no tornadoes that night. We went back to the comfort of our beds once we were given the all-clear on the tornado threat.
This last Saturday I worried about Zach (now 19 years old). He was in Omaha at my house alone. I was in Denver and saw online that sirens were going off in West Omaha. I called to make sure he took shelter in my basement. Zach answered letting me know that he was already in the basement of his dad's house with Grant. He drove there to keep an eye on his younger brother and to make sure he took shelter.
Yes, of course, he did.
