From January Thaw to January Blizzard

And really, that's about all I have to say about that. Seems like it was only last week - because it was - that our last 7 inch snow mostly melted. I didn't even take any pictures of that one, I've got better snow pictures from prior years. Today we've had just enough freezing rain to make a few slick spots on the pavements and motivate us to put down ice melt chemicals a couple of times. No threat to tree limbs or power lines here.

Tomorrow, the snow will begin after 3 a.m. and turn into blizzard conditions around 11 a.m. Depending on who you listen to, by the time this is all done on Wednesday, we could have:
from eight to ten inches, or
from ten to twelve, or
from ten to fifteen, with some areas just southeast of here getting maybe 16 to 18 inches. And half way across the state in Columbia, they could have 20 inches or more of snow.

We're all stocked up, and there's plenty to keep us occupied at home.

I don't think any of us are going anywhere tomorrow.

Back at my computer keyboard, with some old memories

Well I’m back, and it’s great to have a working computer at home again. (Obligatory comment: it’s funny how much we depend on computers now, and just a few years ago whether or not you had a computer wasn’t all that much of an issue.)

And thanks Mike for your posts - though I'm still not quite sure what to make of the last one. Interesting...um, yeah, that's it.

Anyway, while the compy was in the shop, I made various trips to two of the local libraries, the Mid-Continent Library South Independence branch, and the Kansas City Library Trails West branch, for internet access.

Changing the subject…

While at Trails West, I noticed a book display “Of Local Interest”. Here’s the one that caught my attention…


…so I checked out and read “Caught In the Path” by Carolyn Glenn Brewer. I’ll not attempt to make a full fledged book review; the comments on Amazon.com (where I found this photo) describe the book well. (By the way, the cover photo is of the tornado when it was out in the country near Spring Hill, Kansas, before it crossed into Missouri to wreak destruction in Martin City, Hickman Mills, and Ruskin Heights). I found other photos online from a NOAA site, so if you’re curious you can click and see what the tornado looked like from the Ottawa Kansas airport, a wider view of the book cover photo - note the multiple funnels – near Spring Hill, and the destruction of the Ruskin High School, the path through Ruskin Heights, and a close-up showing concrete slabs and debris.

If you’re expecting loads of technical terms, diagrams, and textbook explanations of how tornadoes form, that’s not what this book is about. The stories here are personal eyewitness accounts of people in the path, where they hid to ride out the storm, including one account of a survivor caught outdoors, who was briefly inside the funnel. The book is all the more fascinating for the personal touch. The last half of “Caught In the Path” details how individuals coped with the aftermath; finding family members, the cleanup, and how they pulled together as a community to rebuild.

A few things I found interesting…

I read some old, everyday expressions I haven’t encountered in years. One woman described what she had been doing just before the tornado hit, she had been “sprinkling clothes”. I remember my mom doing that as part of the ironing process…before steam irons were common. Later in the book, after the storm, another lady mentioned seeing a “fire wagon” drive down the street. I haven’t heard them called anything but fire engines or fire trucks for decades now.

I was reminded of some of the bad old tornado safety advice, which was thought to be good advice at the time. Some people wasted time opening windows to “equalize the pressure”, and didn’t quite get to the safest shelter in time. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame them. We were all told to do that for years, until the weather experts studied enough tornado damage to conclude it didn’t help, and the extra time spent would just put you at risk.

Also, there was one mention of a family who intended to get to the southwest corner of the basement, but didn’t quite get there…fortunately, as it turned out. Most of their house collapsed into that corner, and they would have been crushed. For many years we were told the southwest corner of the basement was the safest place, but the more recent advice I’ve heard is to get under a sturdy table or workbench, in a basement closet if you have one, or under the stairway if there’s an opening. These places offer better protection from falling debris.

Understandably, survivors separated from family members were in a state of panic, trying to find their loved ones. It struck me how difficult it was for people to find a working telephone, how many blocks they had to walk, to let relatives or friends outside the damaged area know they were all right. I suppose that today if an F5 tornado hit enough cell phone towers that could still be an issue. But I suspect with the narrowness of a tornado’s path (intense destruction, but not widespread like a hurricane), that most cell phone repeaters would still function, and it would be easier and quicker now to contact people afterward, than it was back then.

Except for my time away at college, I’ve lived in the Kansas City area my entire life. So in the book I recognized the names of several local television and radio personalities, Walt Bodine, Randall Jesse, Charles Gray, Joe Kramer, Bill Leeds, and also that of Kansas City mayor H. Roe Bartle.

May 20, 1957 - What I remember

On a personal note, I was only 3 1/2 years old at the time, but I distinctly remember that storm and I doubt that I’ll ever forget it. We lived in the Maywood neighborhood at the time, now part of Independence, Missouri. So, not only did the tornado miss us by several miles, but I don’t recall any hail damage either (of course, while the storm was in progress we didn’t know that the tornado would miss us). It was a tremendously strong thunderstorm, with a great deal of thunder and lightning, and it really poured too.

Since that night, on occasion the story of the Ruskin Heights tornado has come up in our family. My sister Connie has told of something she and our mom had done earlier that day. Apparently the early part of the day was really nice (I don’t remember that part), and they had planted some flower seeds. Later on none of those flowers came up; the downpour from the storm was strong enough that it washed away all of the seeds.

Anyway, I don’t recall being scared of the storm at first. We had the TV on, and I was sitting up on the top of the couch with my back against the wall; enjoying the loud thunder and the flashes of lightning. It would have been about time for the usual TV routine, news, weather, and sports. But it was all about the weather, and the weatherman seemed more anxious than usual. Still that didn’t really register with me, until my folks started to get nervous. Someone called to me to come down, and I remember thinking I was about to get in trouble for sitting on top of the back of the couch. So I slid down to sit in the couch the right way with my back against the cushion.

About then the rest of the family “freaked out” for want of a better word. This was the first time I had ever seen my folks, or for that matter any adult, really alarmed about anything, and that’s what I remember most about that night. Someone shouted to me to get to the basement. I was still enjoying watching the TV and hearing the thunder, and I really didn’t want to go to the basement.

Allow me to backtrack for a bit to explain my aversion to that basement. First of all, to get down there one of the adults had to lift the door up from the back porch floor, which was weird enough; then we could walk down the steps. The point here is that I really, really didn’t like being in the basement of that old house. The walls were rough like stone, and it always seemed damp down there. The only other thing besides my dad’s workbenches was a big, old furnace (maybe a water heater too, but I don’t really recall where that was). The furnace had a round window where you could look in and see the flame of the pilot light; a huge, old, noisy, scary furnace with a mean looking glowing eye. It seemed that way to me when I was three, anyway.

When I didn’t get off the couch right away, mom or dad (I don’t recall for sure who) came and grabbed me. I remember being led by the hand, and I may have been picked up and carried part of the way (I’m a little vague on that detail). My sister, our parents, and I stayed in that old damp basement until the storm let up.

So, no damage in our neighborhood, but we saw pictures of the destruction on the TV and in the Kansas City Star. One thing mentioned in “Caught In the Path” that I remember hearing when I was a kid, was the trouble the sheriff’s deputies, police, and National Guard had in keeping sightseers away, so the rescue and cleanup efforts wouldn’t be hindered.

Two weeks later, my grandpa Wingate from Ohio came for a visit, and to celebrate his birthday. He had heard about the tornado, and wanted to go see the path it took through that neighborhood. By then the roads were clear and the Guard didn’t stop us from driving through. I vaguely remember seeing a lot of torn up stuff lying in yards, and Connie remembers seeing what remained of the Ruskin High gymnasium. When that had been built, along the outer brick wall were installed individual aluminum letters, spelling out RUSKIN. After the tornado, what was left spelled RU IN. In later years I remember seeing a newspaper photo of that sign.

If the weathermen had been shy about tornado warnings before, they sure weren’t after. I’ve been told that they overdid it for a while, that sometimes warnings would go out for what turned out to be just a big black rain cloud. I think everyone became more aware of what could happen during severe weather season, but all I know for certain is that I grew up in tornado alley and became fascinated with storms. As a kid, I learned that tornadoes came and went, and that there had been many, and would be many more. For years though, you would sometimes hear someone refer to The Tornado. Everyone around here knew which one that meant.

I also learned that the odds of seeing a tornado myself were low. “Tornado alley” covers a huge area, and most likely the next time one touched down, it would be many miles away. One spring (I think in 1964), a small tornado came near our grade school. The teachers hustled us off to one of the basement classrooms. At the end of the hallway was a big window, and I wanted to stay by the window in case it came around where I could see it. That wasn’t allowed, of course.

I did finally see one three or four years later, an F0 or weak F1 that actually struck the corner of our “new” house, right as it lifted back up into the clouds. That’s another story, so I’ll spare you lengthy detail; except to say the neighbors lost all the shingles off their roof, and we had some tree damage. My dad also had to replace a ham radio antenna. That’s the only one I’ve actually seen touch the ground, but I’ve seen a fair number of rotating wall clouds, and funnel clouds “part way down”. And most every year it seems tornadoes or funnel clouds will touch down or pass over part of our county, and we’ll hear the warning sirens blow.

Severe storms are fascinating to watch from a safe distance, but you have to respect the damage they can do.

Friday evening - one for the books (or rather, for the blog)

It had been raining on and off all day, and by mid afternoon I became aware that our area was under a tornado watch. So I turned on a T.V. and found not only that, but there were tornado warnings one county to our southeast and two counties to our west. As the weatherman explained, the radar loop was replayed over and over. I could see that the most scary looking cell at the time (near De Soto, Kansas) would slide up northeast and pass us by safely to our north and west. There was another cell near Spring Hill, Kansas which was heading towards us, but it didn’t seem to be showing as much organized rotation. Better safe than sorry I always say, so I took our bird – cage and all – down to the basement, and busied myself gathering up some of the family photo albums for safekeeping. I took a break and sat back down to watch the weather updates.

Then our doorbell rang, and I assumed it was the next door neighbor girl wanting to play with our youngest daughter. My wife went to the front door and I called to her, “I don’t want her playing outside now”. Time passed, a couple of minutes it seemed – more than it would take to say that our daughter couldn’t come out to play. I must have been curious; it takes a lot to pull me away from tornado coverage.

I went to the door and there was an older gentleman – probably in his eighties – with a cane. He was dressed all in gray, and had been walking in the light rain, really just a drizzle at the time. I looked to my wife (what’s going on?) and she said “He’s going around the neighborhood introducing himself”. I stuck out my hand and said, “Hi, I’m Bob”. He didn’t quite hear that right, but that’s okay…I don’t hear everything right either. Anyway he repeated my name as Tom; then he shook my hand. He told us his address, and I thought I had it narrowed down to one of three houses. I asked him, “Is yours the house with the flagpole, or is that your neighbor?” He said, “No”, then a pause and “Yes, I have a flag”. Another pause, then he got out his wallet, opened it up and showed it to us. We noticed an AARP card and a card that said disabled veteran. My wife and I exchanged glances (by now we were confused enough we didn’t know what to say).

Then he said something about Mexico.
I said, “what about Mexico”?
Another pause, then, “Do you watch Wheel of Fortune”?
“Well, not lately, but we have watched it before.”
“They showed pictures of Mexico, it looks pretty”.
I replied, “Oh, it was a prize, someone could win a trip there”.

“Yes”, he said. A long pause this time. He pointed south, “Is that the way to Mexico?”
“Uh, yes, but it’s a long way.”
“A long way?”
“Yes, thousands of miles. People fly on planes to get there”.

Another long pause.
Thinking of the severe weather, I said, “You might want to get home, there’s a storm moving in”. The man turned away to walk down our steps and my wife and I said, “It was nice meeting you”. He continued down our sidewalk out to the sidewalk along the street. We were watching and waiting for him to turn north, back towards his home.

But sure enough, he turned south.

My wife and I looked at each other. Sure, he might have been planning a stop to introduce himself to our neighbor to our south…but what if he had it in his mind to walk to Mexico?

He walked maybe fifteen feet, then apparently thought better of it and turned around facing north, then stood there in the rain for about half a minute. My wife said, “What should we do? Should we walk him home?” I replied, “Either that, or call the police. Or just let him alone”.

But…we just couldn’t do that last. So, my wife got an umbrella, and I turned and told my daughter, “We’re going to help this man get home. If they blow the tornado sirens, you and your brother get to the basement”. Then to my wife, “Dear, I’m going to get my cell phone just in case. You catch up to him with the umbrella, and I’ll catch up to you”.

Which I did. By this time I was worried that the man might be disoriented enough that he might just wander out into the traffic…probably not, but who could say?

I think he was startled a bit when we came up to him; he told us he couldn’t hear anything with his left ear. My wife held the umbrella over him and said that we wanted to walk him home. He protested that we didn’t have to do that, but I said, “No, we like to walk”.

Every twenty or thirty feet or so, he would pause for a bit, then continue on. We were one block north of our house when he stopped, and we were right in the middle of a side street – fortunately a dead end to a cul-de-sac, so no traffic. After a bit we started on again. When we got to the bridge, he stopped, turned to my wife and said something that sounded like “Who are you voting for”?

My wife: “Who are we voting for? Probably John McCain”.

(I thought definitely McCain, but said nothing…waiting to see his reaction). I don’t recall if he said “yes” or gave a thumbs-up, but he seemed pleased.

The rain increased some, but just a bit. We were glad to help this man get home safely, but right in the middle of the bridge – all exposed – I thought, what would we do if they blew the tornado sirens right now, and we looked, and there it was?

At the north end of the bridge the man stopped, turned to my wife and said, “Do you remember Roosevelt”? She said something to the effect that that was before her time.

The man said, “He smoked, you know”, then gestured out with his hand several inches. (Immediately I had the mental image of a photo of FDR with his long cigarette holder). Then he mumbled something we couldn’t make out, stopped, and appeared frustrated. “I don’t remember his words”.

Half a block to go and we were at his house – not the one I thought, but it did have a US flag attached to a porch railing. We walked him to his porch, told him “See you later”, and looked back to see that he had gone inside. We walked home a little faster, but we were pretty soaked anyway.

When we got inside I thought about changing out of my wet shirt right away, but looked at the weather report. The cell from Spring Hill had gotten bigger with definite rotation, and spotters had reported a funnel cloud. From what I could tell on the radar image, that stupid thing was headed right for us. We located a couple of flashlights, I grabbed a few pictures and one of my mom’s paintings, and took them downstairs; came back up again and then we heard the sirens. I glanced at the T.V. and estimated I had maybe two minutes. Made a trip upstairs, grabbed some backup computer disks, and a couple of boxes of photos, and took them to the basement. One more trip up to grab another painting, then back down. My wife came down to the basement and joined me and the kids. She had been frying turkey bacon as part of supper, so she brought a plate down (she also had her purse with her keys and cell phone). We munched while we watched the basement T.V.

Long story somewhat shorter…after a few minutes It looked like the storm was safely past us, and the funnel cloud was spotted a mile and a quarter northeast of our place. We never saw it. We went back upstairs for the rest of supper. The severe weather turned into more of a flash flood event, and it did pour hard for a while. We had to check the sump pump from time to time; but no floods and no storm damage at our place or near us.

What an evening.