The Tornado/Why I’m Terrified of Not Having a Basement

24 years ago today I live through an F5 tornado (the largest category of tornado possible).

That tornado to be specific.

It flew through our town, destroying everything in it’s path including the homes of most of our neighbors. We survived because my dad threw us under a bed in the basement, wrapped in heavy quilts so the flying glass wouldn’t hit us. I was a little kid but I vividly remember being more terrified then I’ve ever been in my life, hearing the cyclone grow louder and louder, every time you thought nothing on earth could get louder it got louder anyway; until eventually I started screaming at the top of my lungs and was completely unable to hear my own voice above the wind.

It’s an interesting story to tell now to people who have never been in a tornado, and when I’m back home if the sirens go off I run to the porch like any good Kansan hoping to catch a site of the storm before it gets too close… but I’d also be lying if I told you that, even now that I live in a place totally void of tornadoes, it doesn’t terrify me not to have a basement I could hide in.


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