A Tornado Touches Down In Sanford, NC
My wife, Ruth, has a hard time sleeping through the night. She suffers from a number of ailments which rendered her partially disabled. Sometimes the medications work and sometimes they do not. I often sleep in the room across from her, awake as much as she until I hear the lights and TV go off. Then I stare into the night thinking about the next trauma, grading papers, or listening to AM-Coast-to-Coast until I cannot keep my eyes open.
It was still dark when I woke up early on Saturday morning. Only five hours sleep! I silently opened the door to Ruth’s room and saw the up and down movement of the blanket covering her. Ah, still alive and breathing! Another day and night passed without incident, and now we were given the gift of one more day together.
I went downstairs and turned off the house alarm, let the dogs out, and started the coffee. Then I turned on the Fox weekend edition and heard the latest finger-pointing in DC. The repetition make me disgusted with of both parties and numb to the issues, except for the disdain I have in the liberality of many ill-formed Catholics, who earnestly believe that Christ can make people half-pregnant. I cannot help thinking like that. Maybe I should stop listening; it’s making me angry and I know it’s not good for my soul. Sitting in a chair and watching the Starbucks brew did not excite me either.
I walked over to Sarah’s room on the first floor and opened the door. Sarah, our thirty year old daughter, is profoundly handicapped, resulting from an accident at birth. She kicked the window curtains open during the night with her one good leg and daylight poured in. She rolled her eyes, smiled, and stared out the window as if something caught her attention. I walked over to see. Why she smiled only the angels knew; there was nothing to see out of the ordinary, just the daylight, a few dull, dark clouds, the green grass, and Ruth’s flower gardens. Sarah was wet as usual, but the adult diaper and throwaway plastic sheets kept the mattress safe. I fed water through her feeding tube, raised the mattress at the headboard, and selected the oldies station on Direct TV. Sarah made a few happy squeals and bobbed her head to “Hit The Road Jack.” Squeals, smiles, and happy eyes, or grunts, frowns, and sad eyes were Sarah’s daily choices, as well as ours.
I made a silent prayer, thanking God that Ruth and Sarah were both OK, at least for the time-being. God I want them to live and be happy, but it will be as you want it to be. Day and night I pray the same things and do the same things.
Saturdays, Ruth and I get a little respite from Sarah’s caretaking. Maggie comes from noon until eight to play with Sarah, feed her, and bathe her. The afternoons off allow me time to run errands, things like food shopping and buying things at Lowes, mulch and the like. It is garden season and Ruth has a standing list. But not today. I tell Maggie I have to go to Confession and take in the Saturday evening Mass, since we do not have a caregiver on Sunday. Maggie, being a devout Protestant, is surprised to learn of Church Services on Saturday and grins. “You Catholics will do anything to get a few people in the pews!” She mentions that she wants to take Sarah to the DQ in town for soft ice cream and some exercise walking back and forth from the car. She dressed Sarah and left the house before me.
Maggie’s excursions usually take hours, so I have a lot of free time. I checked on Ruth. She was sitting up of bed, chit-chatting with her garden club friends on the laptop, watching MSNBC (Yuck!), and on her second cup of coffee. I scanned the aquarium; I could not find the betta. “The betta still alive?” “Still alive,” she said. Things are as they should be.
I got out on the highway and all at once a terrible thunderstorm came up from behind. Driving rains pelted the car unceasingly so that I could barely see out the window. The few cars that were out were doing ten mph on. 421; normally it was fifty-five mph. I did not think much of it at the time; rain and thunder—so what?
I finished Confession early since I have a tendency to rush through my sins. I said the Act of Contrition slowly, using the version I learned in grade school, the one Bishop Sheen was heard to say on TV. The rain and wind cleared up. I drove down to the local country store to grab a bag of chips and a Cheerwine when an old man drove up, looking quite worried. He got out of the car and shouted, “I just came from town. A tornado came through and tore off the roof of the Lowe’s and leveled it, and a lot of cars are turned over in the parking lot. Could be a lot of dead people over there.”
Instant worry! The DQ is just a couple of blocks up from the Lowes. Are Maggie and Sarah safe? I was about five or six miles away from Lowe’s and wondering if I should drive into town and look for Maggie’s car. I turned on Rush Radio, out of Raleigh, to hear that they were tracking six tornadoes that touched ground throughout the region, and funnel clouds that were shaping up to touch ground. They were coming out of the southwest and heading northeast. Was it possible that the storm I drove through was one of these, and that it passed right by my home and then hit Sanford? Did I just miss getting blown away? Was Ruth safe? Should I go home instead of trying to find Maggie and Sarah?
I made the decision. I rushed home, worried sick about my family, and listened for more news. Another tornado touched down between Fr. Bragg (Fayetteville) and Lillington and was heading northeast. That was exactly where my daughter lived, near Linden, off-base with her three children and Mike, her husband, who happened to be down range at the moment. Oh God, please no! Don’t let it happen! Please protect my daughter and grandkids! I can’t be there! Mike can’t be there!
By this time I was shaken up pretty bad, praying a whole lot, and doing about seventy to get home. I really did not know what to do and I could not be in three places at once. I turned into the driveway, strewn with fallen branches, to see that Maggie had not yet gotten back from Sanford. Damm! Did she get caught in the middle of the tornado? There appeared to be no serious damage to the property. The roof’s still on. That’s a good sign!
I rushed in and shouted, “Ruth, Ruth, where are you?” She shouted down from upstairs, “Up here, what’s the matter?” “Didn’t you hear about the tornado that hit Lowe’s and leveled it? Did Maggie call?” “Yeah, she’s OK. She saw the tornado coming and drove over to her friend’s house. I’m watching the TV reports right now. Funny. She didn’t even think it was a tornado, just a thunderstorm. She’s coming home with Sarah as we speak. You know what’s really funny? Our electricity didn’t go out like it usually does.” Thank God everyone is alright!
I called my daughter Nickie. There was no answer. I called two more times and still no answer. I was beginning to panic! A half-hour later I got a call and heard her voice. It was so great just to listen, but I never let on that I was worried. “Daddy, I’m OK. Mike thinks the tornado bypassed us so all we’ll get is rain. The lights are out. Little Mike doesn’t like the howling sounds and is afraid of the dark.” “How does Mike know?” “He’s tracking the tornado by satellite and calling my cell phone. That’s why I couldn’t call you back right away.” “He what? How can he do that?” “I can’t tell you, otherwise I’ll have to shoot you!”
Whew! Everyone was safe at the moment. I felt less stressed. I hoped Church would wait for me; I did not want to leave until I knew Maggie and Sarah were safely back home. Soon enough Maggie came driving up with Sarah. Maggie said that her aunt’s house was totaled and a bunch of others where the tornado had crossed. But it skirted Chatham Country where we live; we just got the wind and rain, and plenty of downed trees. It was a close call; the real damage was not that far from my home. I always wondered how my house, built in the 1840’s, survived the years when all the plantations around us failed. It must be a huge amount of luck, a few strong backs and arms now long dead and forgotten, and stone-like virgin pine.
It was Palm Sunday Mass, with the Lord’s Passion read out loud, and a very nice but long sermon. I found it hard to think solely on the meaning of Easter week; I was too busy praying and thanking God that everyone was safe, at least the people that I knew. I prayed for the people that I didn’t know. No one knew yet if there were many deaths and injuries, or how extensive the property damage. I prayed every prayer that I could remember. I made a mental note to go back and study up on all my forgotten prayers. I never did get down quite right the exact words for Faith, Hope, and Charity as a kid, but I have the general idea. As I prayed, I felt my tension headache fade and I breathed calmly in and out. Thank you God, thank you for protecting my family, and be merciful to the ones you took home today and the ones they loved.
How fragile life can be! Everyone close to us and all the things we possess may be taken away in a moment’s notice. We spend a life time accumulating things, even persons, places, and ideas. Things which we think are valuable, then they are all taken away piece by piece, until what is left is one thing only–Judgment Day, and that was never ours to purchase. Now that I think of it, Judgment Day is every day, whether we know it or not. I better get a move on!
I came home and warmed up the chicken and dumplings for supper. Grace I certainly knew, “Bless us O Lord for these thy gifts which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ Our Lord. Amen.” It sure tasted extra special good, with everyone around to eat it, Ruth, Sarah and Maggie; and to the dogs and cat, they enjoyed whatever was left over.
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