The afternoon opens with a birthday party. Your neighborhood friends are ramping BMX bicyles in the driveway. You're playing 'jacks' with the girl you'll eventually take to Sadie Hawkins when you're 15. Dad pulls up in his work truck with a birthday card from Grandpa with a $10 bill in it. Life at 10 is all cake. It's a beautiful day. It goes on for hours.
The looming cloud towering overhead sends your friends home. The 6 o'clock sun has that hazy yellow tint. The thunder and lightning starts with a moderate rain with a fair amount of wind. Looking up, you can see lower levels in the cloud base moving counter to the bulk of the larger cloud. The moderate rain intensifies as the storm continues to draw air. You can literally feel it rushing towards the storm. Gusting winds intermingle with sheets of rain. It is a chore to stand in the doorway. Mom and Dad rush through to make sure all the windows are closed and Mikey and Dominik (German shepherd puppies) are locked in your bedroom. 10 minutes goes by, the sky is much darker now with just a hint of yellow.
You hear the hail stones before you see them. Suddenly they're pounding down on everything. Its loud. It lets up almost as quickly as it begins, all the while sheets of driving rain pound against the windows.
The lower smaller clouds begin a dance of sorts, darting in and out of one another. It only takes them a minute to organize into a funnel. From underneath, you can see the vortex, spinning like a mini-hurricane.
The spiraling get more pronounced. The next minute is spent getting last minute preparations in order. Pups are in the bathroom now, running back to the front door for one last peek before taking cover and you can see a whispy tail whipping around like a ribbon. It drops down a bit, teases, and then rises again. The lights in the whole neighborhood go out. No streetlamps, no porch lights. Just the faint glow trying to make it's way through the huge dark clouds. The wind becomes unavoidable. It seems to come from everywhere with such a roaring force it pops your ears. During final look, you don't really see it touch the ground. Dad frantically rushes you to the hiding spot. You're hunched under a full sized mattress holding a puppy that doesn't want to be held as the house begins a strange humming noise accompanied by the creak of straining lumber. It's so loud. The roaring wind, the house shaking and shrieking... then you begin hearing quick snaps as boards are being pulled back and released. Then the snaps turn to a chorus of crushing rumbles. Crashing glass, loud booms... it seems to go on and on.
The pitch black of your hiding spot is abruptly exposed to the outside world. You struggle from under the mattress for a peek. The rumble wanes, the snapping becomes more distant, the roar is getting faint. You can barely see anything, but the little bit of light seems very bright from under the complete darkness. The roaring calms and you poke your head out. Everything is rained on. Large pieces of the roof are missing. The rain pouring in. Boards are sticking out and pointing in every direction.
Stumbling into the kitchen and you have a new view of the back yard. The pear tree is missing. The swing set is knocked over. The chain linked fence has all manner of things stuck in it. The back porch is in the neighbor's yard. The washer and dryer are missing. It's the first time you've ever seen an overturned car. Pieces of everything are broken and ruined all over. Dad's truck has been pushed into the front room and is lodged in the wall. That whole part of the house seems to be a few feet shorter. The entire wall buckled in the middle and wooden 2x6 supports from the roof truss sag through the ceiling. The windows are broken, curtains are missing. All the furniture is moved around. You and Mom go around the side of the house as Dad backs the truck out. The glowing orange in the distance you're too young to recognize is actually Atlas Oil Refinery on fire and burning out of control. The drive to Grandpa's takes forever on a flat tire. You didn't take a change of clothes, you didn't get a chance to go your room. You're not even sure your room survived. Between Mom crying, the puppy squirming and Dad in emergency mode... you're not even sure if the last 30 minutes were even real.
The Spring of '78 will forever be the lump in your throat every time the sirens go off.
Mine went something like that.
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