So what is it exactly about tornadoes that is so fascinating? My husband has asked me that question countless times, and each time he does I am at an equal loss for words. I can’t explain it, pure and simple. Of course, growing up in Minnesota and every summer going through several tornado watches (and maybe even warnings), maybe it’s natural to develop a curiosity about just what it is that is so extremely powerful?
My first memory of anything tornado-related was when I was very young, maybe about three or four. My family lived in St. Paul, Minnesota at the time, and I remember one evening we were visiting my grandparents who lived just up the road. I don’t remember much about the occasion, but I do remember running up and down from the basement all night long as the tornado warnings kept flashing across the TV screen. For all I know that evening could have been part of the “Super Outbreak” in April of 1974 – the timing would be about right, that’s for sure.
It would be another 7 years, though, before another memorable “encounter” with those swirling vortexes. Having moved to a small town in southwestern Minnesota called Redwood Falls, we found ourselves moving deeper into Tornado Alley territory. One day in June of 1981 we watched the sky turn dark in the northwest. Listening to the radio, we realized that the meteorologists were watching a tornado as it made it’s way along the Minnesota River - right towards us! No sooner did we hear the story on the radio when the town’s civil defense sirens started wailing. Believe me, it is one of the most bone-chilling sounds you will ever hear, and if you haven’t grown up with it, there’s no way to describe how that sound can cut straight through bones.
Down into the basement we ran and huddled underneath a heavy workbench. Through the small basement window on the opposite wall we could see how it got very dark out, how the winds whipped trees and bushes around, and how lightning constantly cut through the dark and rain. The local radio station had reporters out in the field (what crazy nuts!) so we were kept abreast of the storm’s progress. After what seemed like four hours, but in reality was about 20 minutes, the winds died down and it started getting brighter outside. My mother and I walked back upstairs to find no damage to the house, thankfully. Nevertheless, our hearts were pounding after such an ordeal.
My father, who arrived home from work a few hours later, said that they had been sent to the basement at work as well. But he wanted to get a glimpse of the storm, so he had gone back up to the entry door just in time to see the funnel cloud swirling above town. I realized right then that despite an overwhelming fear, I really wished that I had been able to see that as well!
Many years have since passed, and in 1982 my family relocated to Norway, where a tornado is something that really only happens in the US and we only hear about in the news. Still, there are many websites that I visit regularly just to keep track of where severe weather is occuring in the States – sometimes to keep track for relatives that still live there, but most often just for my own fascination. And for nearly 28 years now, I have wished that The Weather Channel was available on this side of the Atlantic – but alas, that wish still goes unfulfilled. Thank goodness I still have family I can visit, and who have The Weather Channel! Who knows, maybe some day I may even get to go on a chase? If I can take the suspense!
