Tornado alley – Jerry Lout ⚬ Writer ⚬ Speaker ⚬ Mobilizer

Yogi Berra’s famed quote, “It’s déjà vu all over again”, popped into mind Easter weekend here at our new home of Ada, Oklahoma.

An F-1 tornado slammed the town Easter Eve just weeks after Ada’s first twister of the season assailed us with her mischief on March 4^th. While Ann and I knew our early March move to this fine college town would be somewhat eventful, neither of us guessed Mother Nature would make such a fuss. We’re left wondering how often we may find ourselves hunkering down afresh in the little “safe space” inside our modest abode.

Oklahoma residents, along with plenty of our bordering “tornado alley” neighbors, can call up stories – from entertaining, to instructive, to deeply sorrowful – from the vast numbers of twister touchdowns across our windswept plains. Once, on a nighttime drive on Interstate 40, I got captivated by a large continuous light show as a sprawling thunderstorm edged toward Bristow and its environs. All was pitch dark except for the spectacular flashes of lightning. Pulling to the shoulder, I drew out my iphone, set the camera to video and caught several seconds of the light show. And discovered upon reviewing the clip the next day that a quite-visible cloud-to-ground tornado had been captured on my device.

And, then there was the heart-stopping moment when Ann and I discovered that our son Scott – en route to his college campus after a weekend away – narrowly escaped a direct encounter with a 200 mph Category Four. He had intended to swing into Bruce’s Truck Stop, Catoosa to air up a low tire, but a minor carburetor issue delayed him a few minutes. By the time he was approaching Catoosa, traffic had backed up as emergency vehicles raced to the site. Tragically, seven lives were lost in the vicinity, six of these at Bruce’s Stop.

Citizens of the Sooner State are found every year keeping their human radar keenly sharpened (eyes to the skies, ears to the meteorologists). Particularly in the Springtime season stretching from early April to early June. This is a time to mindfully employ the counsel of an especially wise Rabi of long years past (and present),

“Watch and pray”*.

“You’re from the Sooner State, eh? Isn’t that called ‘Tornado Alley’?”

We Oklahomans have gotten used to being associated with such a dubious label. Not surprisingly so.

My wife and I got another up close and personal reminder a few weeks back.

We had moved from our longtime residence of beautiful Tulsa to the lovely south-central town of Ada (growing expansion of family through one’s adult children carries a magnetic tug). The move remains a little bitter-sweet, as T-town has for a lot of years served as a special spot on our map to call home. Yet, we’re still in Okie-land, still citizens of the notorious Alley.

In the wee hours of our fourth morning settling into our new address, Ann and I began getting acquainted with our apartment’s little hallway. Crouching there in our “safe space” as tornado warning sirens blared, we rode out the minutes with reasonable calm.

A bit later the storm moved on and life resumed as normal. Sort of.

As dawn emerged and the day stretched forward, we and our fellow Ada-ites reflected thankfully that – while the town suffered significant structural damages – the community was spared any dire personal harm.

And then a curious revelation.

A couple days after the twister’s westward-to-eastward dance across town, we spotted a stationary metallic object poised upright near a young tree behind the apartment. It was a common kind of object, we realized. And, in a different circumstance and place, would have generated no cause for puzzlement.

The stop sign, fully intact – complete with sturdy support post – stood upright, freshly transplanted, half-hidden amidst immature branches of our young backyard tree.

While signposts of this design are universally known as alert mechanisms calling for keen and immediate attention – on this occasion, mere feet from our back door – the surprise drop-in guest did indeed give us pause!

And now (who knows where?) there likely sits at some town intersection, another, but a bit forlorn, red-and-white octagonal marker. Troubled by the abrupt absence of a fellow loyal guardian in the noble service of public safety.

Tag: Tornado alley

Turbulent Times

Sign Of Spring