SPECULATION

Speculation
Tuesday, April 4, 2006

Twisters and tornados are not uncommon to this area. Most of the folks I talked to had experienced at least one; some had been in two, especially the gentleman in the second house.

The gentleman in the second house said he had a storm shelter in the backyard but the door needed fixing and he had been too lazy to fix it. He had also watched the funnel cloud from his yard. The funnel cloud, he said, was easy to distinguish because it was silhouetted against the western skyline just before dark. Off in a distance he said he could see the power line transformers exploding. After he went into the house he tried to open the back door to look out and couldn’t. He said he knew it was time to get out of there. He put his family in the pickup and drove south down the gravel road as fast as the truck would go.

The tornado took out his garage next to the house. The barn in the backyard was reduced to a big pile of rubble; a big tree crushed through the roof of on the backside f his house. His wife car looked like it has just been dug out of a mud hole. The tornado popped all the windows out of her car except the windshield. Jokingly he said that he needed to get around to fixing that shelter door.

Down the gravel road to the north about 800 yards is where the third house use to sit. His neighbors that lived there weren’t so lucky. Nothing was left of that house. It was literally picked up and smashed against a very large tree. The tree was the only thing that kept it from being totally scattered across the field. What remained was a pile of debris wrapped around that large tree. Some of the house was scattered across the filed in front. A TV was lying in the ditch as was a refrigerator, and a butane tank. A camping trailer that was parked in the yard was reduced to a frame with tires. It was thrown 80 yards east from where it set next to the house. The gentleman that lives in the house was at church Sunday when the tornado hit. His mother said that if he hadn’t been in church he would have been home sleeping. She speculated about what would have happened to if he had not been in church. From the looks of what remained of his house I also speculated in my mind about what would have happened to him.

A visiting relative said the tornado sounded like death and she would never ever forget the feeling of helplessness. She said the tornado came and went in a matter of seconds. That, after it left entire houses were just not there anymore. Both she and the gentleman’s mother were thankful that he went to church Sunday.

It was hard to identify anything that looked like furniture or appliances. The landscape littered with metal, siding, roofing, and insulation. Insulation covered the ground like snow in Wisconsin. Everything was covered with mud; the things that the wind didn’t blow away were beat down by baseball sized hail. It was a grim and depressing reminder how powerful and violent a tornado can be.


It seems like this tornado had a mind of its own, picking and choosing which houses to leave and which houses to destroy. While I know scientifically that this was not the case, I do know it’s difficult if not impossible to predict the nature of tornados. Weather forecasters can only predict what tornados can do by looking at what they have done in the past. But it wasn’t hard to predict what the people on the gravel were going to do. They were upbeat and in good spirits considering the loss they suffered. They all said they were happy to be alive and were going to rebuild their houses.

Now I know there is a lesson for me in this experience someplace and it’s probably looking me in the face, but I don’t see it yet. On second thought, maybe I do see the lesson. What I overheard from all the residents on the gravel road what that they were thankful to be alive; that houses can be rebuilt; material things can be replaced, but lives cannot.

Caruthersville

Caruthersville
Tuesday, April 4, 2006

The strangest thing happened though. I didn’t head to south to Memphis as planned; instead I headed north to Caruthersville, Missouri. I wasn’t sure what to expect, since I had never been in the aftermaths of a tornado before, but I headed that way anyway. I was thinking, “Okay, you are going there, but what are you going to do when you get there?” I didn’t have any idea what I was going to do but headed that way anyway. Thirty miles later I exited Interstate 55 east to the small rural town of Caruthersville. The sign at the top of the exit said, “Carutherville-3.”

Caruthersville is a town of 6,700 and is located in Pemiscot County about 90 miles north of Memphis, Tennessee. As I made the three mile drive toward town I began to see the devastation. It was unbelievable. It was like a bad dream that I wanted to wake up from, but couldn’t. Trees, power lines and parts of houses were spewed everywhere on both sides of the main highway into town. Last night the news media said the tornado had winds upwards of 200 mph. They said it crossed the Mississippi River and headed east through Braggadocio, Missouri into Caruthersville. On its way to Caruthersville, the tornado cut a thirty-mile wide trail across four counties in western Tennessee.

Despite the extensive devastation I was now looking at, it was hard to believe that only one critical injury was reported. The local newspaper reported that “more than sixty-percent of the land area and seventy-five percent of the people in Caruthersville” were impacted. But other towns like Bagota, Bradford Dyer, Millsfield, and Newbern, residents weren’t so lucky. Emergency Management Authorities say that at least 23 were killed and more than 80 were injured.

Residents were busy cutting trees, raking debris and putting tarps on the roofs of the few houses that were still standing. You could easily see the path the tornado took; the incredible power it struck with, and the devastation left in its wake. The national guards had all the access points to town blocked and were checking identifications. Only workers and other essential service providers were allowed to enter the town. I didn’t try to get into the town. I could only imagine what the town looked liked since the outskirts looked like a war zone.

I drove around the outskirts of town for a while and finally got up enough nerve to get out of the Tahoe and walk around. I stopped on a gravel road about two or three miles east of town where three houses use to sit. I could hear the sound of chain saws and smell the mixture of gasoline and oil that powered them. I debated over whether to take my camera with me. I didn’t want to be intrusive or insensitive, so I kept it around my neck and on my back. I still wasn’t sure what to do, so I just started walking toward the piles of debris.

A man came out of a camper that he and his wife were now living in. He lived in the first house with his wife and child. It didn’t take him long notice my awkwardness. He came up and just started talking to me. He had been watching the news and said he saw the tornado coming. He said it looked like a massive dark cloud coming at him. His wife and child had already taken cover in a closet. He said when he saw the funnel cloud; he went to the closet, told his wife that he loved her, said a prayer and held on to them for dear life. He said the tornado didn’t sound like a train; but more like a roar. His house was still on its foundation but heavily damaged and unlivable. A tree had fallen on his garage that caved it in on top his vehicles. It was such a mess that I couldn’t tell how many cars was in the garage. He was very thankful that he and his family are still alive. By now residents of the house next door are out on the gravel road talking to me.

Road Trip

Road Trip
Tuesday, April 4, 2006

At one time or another I remember my daddy saying, “Time waits for no man.” Not only does it not wait, but it really flies. I was just looking at my last blog posting. That was on January 10, almost three months ago. I have got to blog more. It’s not that I haven’t been writing because I have. I’ve been spending more time writing my book than I have keeping up my blog. Sorry!

Right now I am sitting at McDonalds in Winona, Mississippi eating a double fish filet wit cheese and drinking a Dr. Pepper. The fish sandwich is good but not as good as freshly caught crappie and bluegills. I will get into them before the week is gone, and as many crawfish as I can eat.

I need to tell you about an experience I had on the way down here. You may or may not have heard on national news about the tornados that struck Missouri last Sunday. Anyways, I was traveling south on Interstate 55 when 6-7 power line repair trucks passed me going north in the opposite direction. They were quite a spectacle. A highway patrol cruiser was leading them; sirens blaring and flashing lights. Along the interstate highway workers were fixing road signs that were lying in the ditches. Then I remembered the news from last night in the hotel room in Cape Girardeau, Missouri about the string of tornados that plummeted Missouri. Now I understood where the power line trucks were going.

I pulled into the Arkansas welcome center to use the bathroom. I had to wail a little bit. There was a tour bus there with lots of people older than me. I went inside the center afterwards and talked to the attendant. I asked him where the tornado had touched down and he told me about thirty miles north behind me. I thought, “Do I go back and take a look or stay on my schedule to be in Tallulah around 4pm.” I decided it would be too much of a hassle to back track thirty miles. So I continued my drive on to Memphis. I wanted to be there by noon. For the next ten miles I was thinking that this something that I needed to experience; that I may never have this opportunity again.

Ten miles later I pulled into a gas station. I didn’t need any gas but I wanted to get a local newspaper. I wanted to see what towns were hit the hardest. Sure enough on the front page of Monday and Tuesday’s paper were pictures and stories of devastation. I made small talk with a gentleman who was waiting for his sister who was coming in from North Carolina on the Greyhound bus. Seems the bus left her in Memphis and she was to be on the next bus but he didn’t know what time it was to arrive. So he was waiting for her at the gas station, but he didn’t know how long he had to wait. He owns a landscaping business and we talked about the pros and cons of working hourly versus being paid a flat amount for the job. I put away two regular chicken wings and to hot wings and a Sobe soda. It was time to hit the road if I wanted to be in Memphis by noon.