Basement

Last night the tornado sirens woke me up. The thunder was really bad, and I woke up wondering, was that how Grandma knew there was a tornado coming?

When I was growing up and living with my mother at my grandparent's house, I was watching Scooby Doo one day and my Grandmother ran in, grabbed her purse, grabbed me, and rushed me to the basement. My grandfather was sent after my mother who was deaf at the time to wake her from her nap.

This was also when we had our German Shephard/Great Dane mix dog who was so huge she covered the front door when she decided she didn't like who was there (usually the mail man, who decided not to deliver our mail after a few frightening incidents with our dog at the door). Man, I loved that dog. I believe at that time we also had a small poodle that was a bit nervous.

The dogs, my grandparents, my mother, and I all huddled in the basement watching out the storm door where the wind was whipping through the trees that lined the back yard.

We stayed in the basement all night. I learned then the importance of storing blankets in a basement that's unfinished. Lying on the floor was uncomfortable, and the constant noise from the emergency radio we had was annoying.

Halfway through the night, when the first storm seemed to have passed, policeman drove through the neighborhood with bullhorns directing people to stay in their basements as more was coming.

There were three tornados that night, but the one that hit hardest touched down a block from our house.

We were so damned lucky. A tree fell on my mother's car, but that was about it.

Other people lost their homes, our school had lost it's playground, and the convenience store at the end of the road was not there anymore. In fact, a block from our house, there were not many structures that were still there at all.

There was a steady stream of people walking along our street towards downtown where an emergency shelter had been set up. My grandmother filled the bathtub full of water and offered water to the passerby. Young as I was, I was worried we would run out of water.

I remember feeling very put upon that there was no playground equipment at the school anymore, and that the school had been damaged so there would not be school for some time. I was not even IN school, but it was so close to my house I went there to play a good deal of the time.

I remember being on a walk with my mother in the woods that no longer exists (housing replaced it), and seeing in the marsh the upside down rounded jungle gym sitting firmly in the ground as if it had always been there.

Last night, with the thunder sounding like it was, I wondered, is this what my grandmother was talking about?

When I asked her how she had known to go to the basement, she explained that the tornado had sounded like a train. Did this thunder sound like what she described? I wasn't sure. At moments, I thought definitely yes. Other moments, I wasn't so sure.

Scott brought us down to watch the news, and the center of the storm crossed 315 and went directly towards where we live. We went to the basement, where Tyler was so scared she was literally shaking.

It passed, not quietly, but it passed. And the tornado warning was cancelled, and we went to bed.

I've never been so unsure if we were going to have a tornado than I was last night. The rumble of the thunder did sound like a train.

This morning we woke up to water in the basement. I felt glad I had moved many of the things into plastic containers, but many things were not protected as well. At least, I thought to myself, we had not had water in the basement during the time we were waiting for the storm to pass there.