By now, most everyone has probably heard about the storms that ravaged the great state of Texas this past week. Of course, they’ve damaged more areas than that, but I currently live in North Fort Worth, which was particularly hit hard the other evening by some very unique, brutal waves of high winds, hail, and even a possible tornado.
When you live in Texas, you soon realize that this type of weather is not that unusual, especially in certain areas of the state, which match – and sometime kick off – angry thunderstorms that march straight into Arkansas, Louisiana, and sometimes bolt north into Oklahoma. All this can happen in a matter of hours; and – at times – without much warning.
On the morning of April 28th. The day started out normal, it was full of sunshine and pleasant temperatures, with no peculiar or alarming weather broadcasts for the day. However, I did see where the National Weather Service, NWS, was mentioned earlier we had a particularly good chance for an evening shower.
I went about my day and texted my daughter, Abby, to let her know she might want to keep in mind we could have a storm later on in the evening/ They are a family on the go, with three children – one being old enough to drive.
Truthfully, I don’t think anyone takes me seriously in these situations, but I trudge forward and hope for the best. After retiring from Emergency Services some years ago and having lived in an area where we got yearly hurricanes – and tornados from them, I did take it seriously, very seriously. I’ve seen what a powerful storm can do, and I keep a healthy respect for each and every one of them.
So, Wednesday, April 28, 2021, started out as any other day.
About 5:00 o’clock that evening, I was scouring the Internet for ideas beside the window of my apartment, when out of the corner of my eye, I notice a flash. I immediately knew it was lightning. As I looked more closely, the lightning started coming quicker and with more of it. Kind of like when the DJ kicks up the strobe lights on a fast tune that’s so loud, your spine vibrates.
They do still do that, right?
My apartment overlooks the courtyard and business office and is open for miles when you look straight out. Over the next 20 minutes or so, I watched this lightning start to evolve from what seemed to be miles across the street from me, to being within a mile or two, it seemed to get a lot closer a lot quicker – and the sky darker.
By this time, I was getting more concerned about this electrical storm they were now projecting. I kept checking my phone for the weather update when things went bad to worse. Going online two some of my favorite weather reporters, they were running constant radar on our location and, by 6:30 they were saying there was a super cell with tornadic activity in our area.
In fact, moments later, it had a slow rotation that was starting to pick up. I knew immediately that meant a tornado was forming, whether it would develop into a full-fledged tornado or not, remained to be seen. However, the lightning was off the charts. It, at times, looked like the lightning was striking four and five times within a second in the same area. This lightning was going right down to the ground. I could tell as it progressed, it was getting closer and closer to me.
Now the weatherman was starting to alert us that hail was on its way and I start to have tiny pellets of it hitting all my windows. He had an alarm in his voice you never want to hear, telling us to be prepared – we have rotation on the ground, very large hail coming your way, and get prepared to go to safety quick.
I could literally, see the storm forming in front of me with a lighter sky on the right, where it had pulled the dark clouds in, and on the left was gray. But in the very middle was this giant, angry, black ball of swirling hail and debris.
Within minutes, the weatherman was spitting out the tornado’s coordinates – and it exactly where my apartment was. Although, I have been thoroughly trained to handle situations such as this in my career, it is an entirely different issue when you are standing in your window, seeing this monster coming at you. Within seconds, what sounded like pebbles were now large rocks were hitting the windows – so hard – I thought they would surely break in a thousand pieces.
At the same time, the larger, what they now refer to as gorilla hail, started hitting my windows, the tornado sirens started screaming. It was upon us. As the tornado sirens swirled the alarms, the NWS loudly paged my phone, telling me to get to shelter – in a basement, a cellar, or somewhere safer than where I was – our storm had now upgraded to a tornado warning – meaning, they were seeing one in our area.
I just stood in the middle of my apartment terrified. What do I do? Where do I go? I hurried to my door which leads out into the interior of the building, then turned back to my windows, and repeated that behavior briefly. I finally decided I was risking my life to stay; but where I do I go? I just couldn’t believe this was happening.
As I finally stepped out of my apartment and into the corridor, I nearly ran for the stairwell. The sound of the hail and debris hitting everyone’s windows was deafening. You could not have had a conversation for a single person out in that hallway.
There’s only one place I could think of to go – the stairwell beside our building’s elevator. At least there are no windows there and I would be surrounded by cement blocks and iron.
I thought to myself, there is no way I am going to have any windows left when I get back here; but I hurried as much as I could, heading for the relief of the stairwell. At least there was less chance of this thing getting to me there.
You might think after me telling you all of this, there would not be much good news – but you are mistaken. As I reached the heavy door of the stairwell, I could hear voices. Many voices. I saw familiar, happy faces smiling at me as I stepped into a peaceful atmosphere.
There were neighbors from all three floors sitting inside with their dogs and cats – a lot of them chatting about a variety of topics. One person had an emergency radio, many had their cell phones and tracked the storm that way, some didn’t have anything to rely on but just trusted those around them.
The most touching part of the stairwell was the beauty of the genuine, deep concern for one another. If someone had a need, another would take care of it. They found chairs and blankets and water for each other. People would think of a neighbor that wasn’t there and volunteer to go get them so they would be safe.
Down in the stairwell, there were people of every color, every religion, every walk of life – and none of that mattered to anyone. People were praying out loud for our safety and the storm to pass. Some were singing praises. Periodically, someone would holler out where we were in the hot zone, right up until the time we had passed through it and were okay. I learned more that night than just where to find safety in a storm.
It was a beautiful place to be, and I thought of how heaven might be just like this. I remember sitting there at the top of the steps, looking about, and thinking, I wish the world could see all of us piled in this one little part of a stairwell – the room bursting from the gentleness of the human spirit – bonding us together always. My heart was filled from witnessing the kindness of others.
Some of us may have been complete strangers going in, but we sure were besties going out.
Never underestimate the storms of life that come to you, because they just could lead you to the stairwell and be a blessing in disguise. I know where I’m headed if another storm comes my way.
God bless us everyone.
Sheree Alderman,
Editor-at-large,
N. Fort Worth, TX
Over and out!
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