Today is supposed to be a stormy day, the kind of storm that comes with a side of three-inch hail and possibility of tornados. The worst of it is going to be north of us, I understand, but we are in an “enhanced” zone.
I hope the storm waits until we’re all home. This afternoon, I am at work for meetings, and I don’t want to deal with sitting in Colden Hall’s basement waiting for the all-clear. I’m CERT-trained, which means I can act in mass disasters to stabilize injuries and reduce the chaos. I hope to never use my training.
If I’m at home for the bad weather, my husband and I will go to the basement and wait for it to pass. The city has sirens, but we also have weather apps on our phones to alert us. The cats will follow us down. The basement is unfinished and cluttered, but there are chairs downstairs for us.
I hate tornado weather. I can handle severe thunderstorms, even though one took out our peach tree and a length of fence recently. I don’t like the destructive level of tornado weather. Towns get taken out by tornados, and I don’t want to be in the middle of one of them.
Today is going to be a bad weather day in Maryville, according to the weather forecast. We are at a 10% chance for bad weather, and there may even be tornadoes in the mix. Tornadoes? It’s almost November!
I guess some people call tornadoes ‘cyclones’; pretty much the same thing. A severely hazardous storm typified by a wind vortex. The standard operating procedure for a tornado is to go to the basement, for presumably the walls in the basement don’t collapse on you. There’s also less danger of being hit by flying glass. If you don’t have a basement, choose an internal room on the first floor without windows, which is often a bathroom.
I remember life before extremely accurate weather forecasting. We generally didn’t know a tornado was passing by until the tornado showed up, and then the civil defense warning would be broadcast on our tv. Then the siren would go off (this was usually the siren summoning our volunteer firefighters to an incident.)
Today, we have a fire siren in town to warn us if a tornado is imminent. But we also have our weather forecasts, our phones and the watch/warning system. We can prepare a day in advance; I know the expected time for severe storms and I can plan accordingly.
It’s interesting to look at today and reminisce about how life has changed. I guess that makes me an old person (*sigh*).
We in the far northwest corner of Missouri have spent two consecutive days down in our basements (about two hours total) because of tornadic activity. We didn’t fare too bad — the tornado at Maryville did not touch down but wasn’t that far from campus, although some neighboring areas saw some damage. Northwest of us — Omaha and Lincoln — got some bad damage, as did parts of Oklahoma on day 2.
I wrote the other day about how today’s weather warnings are so much more sophisticated. The FEMA app (my favorite for severe weather) informed us throughout the afternoon and evening. This app distinguishes between “Your neighbors should be in the basement” and “YOU should be in the basement” when setting alarm noises; the latter noise is more alarming than the city’s ominous siren. What struck me was that, despite the neighborhood destruction in Omaha and Lincoln from an EF3 tornado, there were no fatalities and only non-life-threatening injuries. This speaks to me of a robust warning system and better awareness of the danger of a tornado.
The graphic at the top of this page is perhaps one of the most ingenious tools of the current emergency mitigation response. It’s a non-threatening way to describe the threat levels in a tornado. It’s funny enough to go viral. And on those severe weather days when we’re waiting for the sirens, we’re looking for taco trucks. Only we want to avoid them.
For the next couple of days, my city (town?) is in a severe weather zone. The Weather Channel says, “There is a likely risk of severe weather today. Wind, tornadoes and hail are possible. Look out for large hail and powerful tornadoes. Have a plan and be prepared.”. This risk continues through tomorrow; the National Weather Service has given a Hazardous Weather Outlook (pre-Watches and Warnings) to our area.
Our house has weather radio and our phones have weather programs with warnings. Our basement has bottled water and emergency kits. We remember the tornadoes in Utica, IL and Joplin, MO (home town-adjacent areas for each of us) and take severe weather seriously.
Weather awareness has changed significantly since I was young, and I was in one of the few areas with any form of local weather response. When I was young, most people got their television through antennas, and so network TV carried tornado watches and warnings. I don’t believe stations posted severe thunderstorm watches or warnings back then. Our middle-of-nowhere town was in the Chicago market, yet 90 miles away, so we watched warnings in which we may have been obliquely mentioned. However, because there was no way we could receive TV waves in a river valley, we had cable TV in LaSalle County, IL, which was novel 55 years ago. This was important to the current discussion because we had our own emergency warnings.
At the time, FEMA didn’t exist; the national civil defense organization was named Civil Defense. Our Civil Defense person was Bill Bailey, who I believe was the Sheriff. And he delighted in Civil Defense. When a tornado watch or warning occurred, he cut into our regularly scheduled programming with emergency tones. He then droned on about the warning of the moment. Originally, the screen would go back, but I think later interruptions had this symbol:
We would all go to our basements like good little Midwesterners. Ok, I kid. I would go to the basement, as would my mother. My sister and dad went out to the front porch to watch for tornadoes. I was scared to death of tornadoes back then (and many other things as well, but not spiders or snakes or bees or wasps).
Nowadays, we have a much better warning system. We have warnings about weather days in advance from the National Weather Service. We have FEMA with not only warnings, but sophisticated operations in the aftermath of severe weather. But I remember when all we had in LaSalle County, IL, was Bill Bailey.
The clouds are moving in. Light clouds right now, but there is a chance of severe weather – winds, possible hail. A tornado would not be unheard of. The weather service says this should start about the time I am conducting a meeting that I would rather skip.
I might not be conducting. I may be looking out the window at the storm. The storm speaks to me; it speaks louder than this business meeting. It speaks louder than this white-walled room with its whiteboards and white screen.
4000 words today, with the following plot quirks:Â survivalist with dreams of using ricin; lions, tigers, and bears; a ghost town; a tornado; and the most boring stretch of highway in the US (I-80 in Nebraska). Good writing session, although I’m not writing as fast as I used to.
My eyes are so strained, they’re practically bleeding; it’s naptime for me.
Send me love, because I could use a little today. Terribly gloomy out, and I just killed an entire village with a viral plague.
Words Like Me 