Growing Up in the Tornadic South

Growing up in the south, tornado sirens are a way of life. I can remember playing four-square on the playground of my grammar school while the practice tornado sirens went off each week on the same day at the same time. In a way it was reassuring, a sign that a warning would sound if danger was stampeding its way toward your home. Thankfully, they still do the same thing in the county where I live now.

Living in the south, you tend to get a bit complacent. I've been through so many tornado watches, warnings and actual tornadoes, I've gotten used to the fact that every spring is going to be a wild ride. You don't like it, but there's absolutely nothing you can do about it.

Talk to anyone who has grown up in a southern state and they will have a number of harrowing tornado stories to share. All this is to say, I'm used to tornado warnings and tornado sirens, but what I'm not really used to is hearing and seeing our local TV weathermen so wound up days preceding bad weather. I knew "something evil this way comes" because all week our local weathermen had been almost frantic in their constant warnings on the evening news. A friend e-mailed Wednesday to say, "Glen Burns says he isn't kidding." Glen Burns is one of the most respected weathermen on the Atlanta news. If Glen Burns wasn't kidding, I knew we were in for major trouble.

If you're a Facebook fan of BNOTP, you may remember a comment I left on the BNOTP wall the evening evil was making its way to the south. The more I listened to the news on Wednesday, the more nervous I became. After a while I turned the sound off and just watched the red blobs moving across the weather maps, paying close attention to where they were going and how far they were from the Atlanta area. Almost all our weather comes from the west, by way of Alabama. Alabama is our crystal ball; whatever they get, we usually get the same.

Having lived through so many spring tornado seasons, I know when it's time to grab Max and head for the basement. Every tornado I've ever been through has always been immediately preceded by hail. If tornado warnings are out and you hear hail, forget the TV and the sirens; it's time to grab the family, the cell phone and the flashlight and get to your safe place, which in my case is the basement. And if it sounds like they have just relocated train tracks to your back yard and the train is coming down the tracks, you've waited too long. When a tornado is knocking on your door, it really does sound like a freight train. It is deafening and a terrifying experience.

I got very lucky Wednesday. See that skinny line I drew on the map below? Follow it to the blank white spot in the midst of all the red dots. That's where I live. Luck, just pure luck.



If you'd like to help those who weren't so lucky, you can donate to the Red Cross ONLINE or just text the word REDCROSS to 90999 to make a $10 donation. It's my understanding it will appear on your next phone bill.

I'm saying lots of prayers for all the families who bore the brunt of our recent storms. May God bless them and their families as they struggle to turn their world back right side up.