Once this even happened when Granny was babysitting me. She promptly grabbed me and calmed me. Then she escorted me out to our front porch to watch the thunderstorm. I was scared to death, but something about my grandmother's calm demeanor and resolve settled me. While we watched the sky darken, the winds pick up, the rain come down in sheets, the thunder rumble, and the lightning flash. Of course, no tordanodo came down. There was no need to scamper into a basement. I was cured.
So when the local tornado siren sounded last week during this thunderstorm, I was torn. Part of me - like Mom - wanted to rush everyone down to the basement. Part of me - like Granny - didn't want to miss the show. I ended up appeasing both sides. We got everyone into the basement (Casey had some of his buddies over). But I also scampered up every so often to listen to the wind roaring and look for any falling branches or trees. But we were lucky, nothing major came our way.
The same cannot be said for those in Northwood, who had a tornado - cloaked in night - come tearing through their lives.
Just imagine this sucker tearing undetected through a small town in the night.

Here is what is left of someone's vehicle. Just look at that angry sky in the background.

This tanker was tossed 1.5 miles!

A myth confirmed. My grandmother - all those years ago - told me that she had seen newspaper pictures of wheat sticking out of stop signs - hurled at such high speeds by a tornado that they poked right through the metal signs. I can still see the mental picture she painted in my mind right now. But I have never seen any evidence of this. Until now.

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