I drove through the 2011 Joplin Tornado storm. Funny thing is, I was on my way home from Oklahoma to examine my house for damage from baseball sized hail because of an entirely different storm.
I guess it's a good thing I enjoy thunderstorms, and keep digital backups of important information. When I was in Nevada, I remember hearing, "I wouldn't want to live in Kansas. Too many tornadoes." My reply, "As if you don't have enough earthquakes?"
I challenge you, dear reader, to find a parcel of land on this wonderful planet that is not vulnerable to any form of natural disaster. I haven't found one. (And no, doomsday bunkers do not count! Stay in there long enough, and they're prone to famine. Also flooding if you don't inspect the plumbing.)
I never saw the funnel that struck Joplin itself. I was stuck in the creation of the monster.
A 30-40mph tailwind! I was absolutely thrilled to be leaving Oklahoma. Some clouds on the northern horizon, but no worry. I was going to get the best gas mileage ever! ...Until I crossed the Kansas border and ran into a 40-50mph headwind.
To make this tale stereotypical, I was driving by the original locale of "Little House on the Prairie". No joke. It's right off US 75 Highway.
I saw the clouds overhead growing darker and tumbling around like angry snakes in a bag. I know what this means.
I didn't know whether to stop and find a ditch or keep driving and try to escape.
The whole situation reminded me of another time had stopped a hotel in Nebraska during Tornado Season. My mother and I walked across the highway to local fast food joint. There was a thunderstorm. Big deal. When we came out, the massive American flag on the west side of the highway was blowing north. The equally big flag on the east side was blowing due south.
So, what did we do? Ducked our heads in the wind, walked back to the hotel and passed out. I have no idea if there was a tornado warning that night not.
I also had the flag thing happen to me again in the panhandle of Texas. My roommate and I had pulled into a rest stop because the wind was just too crazy and we wanted some information on this storm (this was before the proliferation of smartphones). Same thing, flag on the other side of the highway was going a totally different direction.
And then it hailed. Well, it looked like hail, but it was spreading out into little white shrapnel when it hit the ground. It was snow! It was snowing in huge chunks that splattered when they landed. I walked out in it.
And then there was that time on I-35 when I was driving 90 mph to escape the oncoming tornadic weather, and I was passed by a cop! I guess we both knew how badly we needed to be somewhere else at the moment. Plus, everyone else was driving that quickly too. My poor car still has scratches from pebbles and other little natural projectiles that day.
That car and I left the "Little House on the Prairie" sign to the mercy of the wind as we whizzed by.
But, Deb, I screamed at myself. This is no time to think of other stories! What are you going to do this time?! I was too busy trying to wrestle the car in a straight line to try to pull up radar on my phone.
There was no rain or hail, or even thunder unless I couldn't hear that over the roaring winds. There was just wind strong enough to shove my 3,000 lb car around with relative ease. I'd be off the road if a gust hit me just right.
I didn't know if I'd outrun a funnel by driving or race straight into one. Or maybe both because these storms often drop several twisters.
What did I do? I kept on trucking. After a white-knuckled twenty minutes, I was able to breathe easier. The storm had lumbered off to the east. Black and purple and bloated. I remember thinking, 'Someone is going to get creamed.' And I was right.
As I review 2011 from this NWS report, I wonder what 2012 willl hold.
I drove over 140 miles that day, and I could still see the clouds from that storm when I arrived home.
I guess it's a good thing I enjoy thunderstorms, and keep digital backups of important information. When I was in Nevada, I remember hearing, "I wouldn't want to live in Kansas. Too many tornadoes." My reply, "As if you don't have enough earthquakes?"
I challenge you, dear reader, to find a parcel of land on this wonderful planet that is not vulnerable to any form of natural disaster. I haven't found one. (And no, doomsday bunkers do not count! Stay in there long enough, and they're prone to famine. Also flooding if you don't inspect the plumbing.)
I never saw the funnel that struck Joplin itself. I was stuck in the creation of the monster.
A 30-40mph tailwind! I was absolutely thrilled to be leaving Oklahoma. Some clouds on the northern horizon, but no worry. I was going to get the best gas mileage ever! ...Until I crossed the Kansas border and ran into a 40-50mph headwind.
To make this tale stereotypical, I was driving by the original locale of "Little House on the Prairie". No joke. It's right off US 75 Highway.
I saw the clouds overhead growing darker and tumbling around like angry snakes in a bag. I know what this means.
I didn't know whether to stop and find a ditch or keep driving and try to escape.
The whole situation reminded me of another time had stopped a hotel in Nebraska during Tornado Season. My mother and I walked across the highway to local fast food joint. There was a thunderstorm. Big deal. When we came out, the massive American flag on the west side of the highway was blowing north. The equally big flag on the east side was blowing due south.
So, what did we do? Ducked our heads in the wind, walked back to the hotel and passed out. I have no idea if there was a tornado warning that night not.
I also had the flag thing happen to me again in the panhandle of Texas. My roommate and I had pulled into a rest stop because the wind was just too crazy and we wanted some information on this storm (this was before the proliferation of smartphones). Same thing, flag on the other side of the highway was going a totally different direction.
And then it hailed. Well, it looked like hail, but it was spreading out into little white shrapnel when it hit the ground. It was snow! It was snowing in huge chunks that splattered when they landed. I walked out in it.
And then there was that time on I-35 when I was driving 90 mph to escape the oncoming tornadic weather, and I was passed by a cop! I guess we both knew how badly we needed to be somewhere else at the moment. Plus, everyone else was driving that quickly too. My poor car still has scratches from pebbles and other little natural projectiles that day.
That car and I left the "Little House on the Prairie" sign to the mercy of the wind as we whizzed by.
But, Deb, I screamed at myself. This is no time to think of other stories! What are you going to do this time?! I was too busy trying to wrestle the car in a straight line to try to pull up radar on my phone.
There was no rain or hail, or even thunder unless I couldn't hear that over the roaring winds. There was just wind strong enough to shove my 3,000 lb car around with relative ease. I'd be off the road if a gust hit me just right.
I didn't know if I'd outrun a funnel by driving or race straight into one. Or maybe both because these storms often drop several twisters.
What did I do? I kept on trucking. After a white-knuckled twenty minutes, I was able to breathe easier. The storm had lumbered off to the east. Black and purple and bloated. I remember thinking, 'Someone is going to get creamed.' And I was right.
As I review 2011 from this NWS report, I wonder what 2012 willl hold.
I drove over 140 miles that day, and I could still see the clouds from that storm when I arrived home.
