Saturday, May 11, 2013

My Mom and the Tornado

 

I think one of the hardest things about being a mother are the choices you have to make when your children are in danger.


This is a picture from 1961, a few weeks before or after the tornado. I'm on the left, my brother Joe on the right, the baby in the middle. Actually she was a bit older than 2 but we called her the baby.  The tiger was the tiger.

And I look older than 11, so I'm not sure. Anyway. My brother and I went to the same school and walked home the same route with all the other baby boomer kids. But never together. How uncool would that have been?

That day the wind was kicking up and it was raining; nowadays kids are held at school while there is a storm or tornado watch or warning. But that day someone made the decision to let us out and we all walked home. It was no longer raining nor even windy. It was dead calm in fact. I was carrying a wooden checkerboard, can't remember why.  Everything was normal until I heard some screaming and looked back behind me.

None of us saw the twister, we never did. We just saw a huge black cloud. The tornado picked up the freshly tilled black midwest dirt and churned it around.  Just like that day turned to night, calm turned to chaos.

I don't know how my brother and I found each other. We grabbed hold and ran for home.  Part of our path went through "the woods" where the trees were slashing back and forth. When we came out of the woods, nothing looked familiar and the other kids were gone. The wind was still blowing and it was raining very hard. I looked at myself - I was black, covered in dirt. I thought an atomic bomb had gone off. We kept running. Like Hansel and Gretel lost in the woods, we held hands and kept running.

It was so dark. At home my Mom had a terrible choice. She could go out and search for us, but she'd have to take the baby out in the storm. Or she could leave the baby alone. Or she could huddle in the middle of the house and cry and pray. I don't know what must have been going through her mind.

When we saw the house, we recognized it. Outside of branches down it was there and unharmed. We ran through the door and my mother started screaming in agony and joy.  It was a cry I can still hear today, as she clutched us and said, "Are you ok?" "You're not hurt?" and "I love you, I love you". "I wanted to look for you." We said, "We're ok, we love you, Mom". We cried and hugged.

Eventually things quieted, both weather-wise and in the house. Tornadoes are fast moving storms and it was over with little harm done in our neighborhood. The sun even came out. My Dad came home and absurdly we went looking for the checkerboard and found it unscathed.

So Happy Mother's Day, Mom, wherever you are. You went through a lot of anguish that day and I am just realizing that. I'd like to think you are somewhere nice, maybe on a beach, with a glass of champagne. God knows you deserve it. I know you do.