10 years

At some point in the afternoon, Josh called and suggested Jonah and I come to campus. Thanks to the heads up from Noel, I had grabbed our bag of snacks and toys and was mentally prepared to leave the house (my fellow introverts will know this is serious business). I must not have been completely convinced we were going to need to hunker down, though, because I was waiting for bread to come out of the oven when Josh called. I just turned off the oven and walked away, figuring maybe it would finish cooking as the oven cooled.

We drove to campus like we had two weeks before, but this time, three things were noticeably different:

1. It wasn't raining. Something about showing up earlier in pouring rain helped it feel stormy. On the 27th, it felt more or less like a normal spring day.

2. I parked in the staff parking lot this time.

3. The basement was full of people. Last time, there had been a few students and staff members riding out the storm warning with us. This time, it was a crowd. Jonah was not even the only child there, which certainly made things feel a little more serious.

While the storm headed towards Tuscaloosa, we watched James Spann's weather report on the projector. Jonah watched Finding Nemo. The power (and therefore, wifi) cut out right as James Spann said something about "approaching the mall" or something similar. Since we lived more or less across the street from the mall, we had a pretty good idea that there would be some damage in our neighborhood, but that's all we knew. The power/internet never did come back on, so we all just...waited. Remember that this was a whole line of storms, so even after "our' tornado passed over town, we weren't sure it would be entirely safe to leave just yet.

At some point sometime later, Josh left. Thinking back now, I'm sure he or someone else was checking updates on their phones or had found a radio broadcast somehow, but I was busy taking care of Jonah. I remember people slowly leaving and not coming back, so it seemed like our time in the underground bunker was over, but Josh wanted to go check things out first. I remember being a little frustrated (worried?) that he was gone for a long time. I didn't know where we were supposed to go to find him, so we just waited. Turns out, he was gone for such a long time because he was busy returning calls (or trying to) because when he emerged from the basement, his phone blew up with messages. When he called our home teacher to check in, Dan didn't answer (He was going through his own tornado emergency at the time), so Josh called the bishop. Sis. Wyatt answered and told Josh the the bishop was actually out looking for us. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

When Josh came back downstairs, we loaded up and started driving home. We made it as far as the parking lot across the street from the hospital* before a police officer stopped us and told us no vehicular traffic was allowed past that point. We were maybe a half mile from our house, so we parked and started on foot. Josh carried Jonah and off we went down the hill. As we got close to the house, we started to jog. I don't know why exactly, other than we just couldn't walk anymore.

It took us a few minutes to figure out exactly which house was ours. It's somewhat surprising how difficult it is to tell when one neighbor's house is nothing but a foundation and our house was missing parts. Without a porch and a back room, it didn't look like the same house. As we stood on the corner and counted houses to figure out which house belonged to us, Aly and Aaron (friends from the dinner party a few weeks before) were standing on our lawn.

If I remember correctly, they were on their way to return a laptop to a friend without realizing just how severe the damage was. It became readily apparent that they would not be making it to return the laptop when they were also stopped by police. Parked at a shopping center across the street, trying to figure out whether to go back home, they ran into Bishop Wyatt. They told him they knew where our house** was, so they came to find us while he went on looking for more of his lost sheep.

A police officer was going through the neighborhood telling people there was a possible gas leak and we needed to leave, so we took one quick run through the house, grabbed our 72-hour kit (which yes, we should have taken with us originally), and headed home with Aaron and Aly. Well, Jonah and I went home with Aly while Josh and Aaron went looking for ways to help.

Next time, I'll write about what Jonah and I did that night as well as what Josh did (as best as I remember it). But for now in the story, we've been scooped up off our lawn and taken to the Richards residence for the night (and what would become many months).

*There are so many incredible stories about what happened that day, including the miracle that the tornado didn't hit the hospital.

**Not only had they been to our home before, but Ally also remembered our conversation about where the best place would be to ride out a storm.

10 years, the morning of

From here on out, a disclaimer is in order:

The more I learn about how memory works, the more I realize some of my memories of that day and the aftermath might not be as accurate as I think. Nonetheless, this is how I remember it. Some of these memories and stories will also touch on other people's experiences. I'm almost certainly leaving things out of misremembering, but no part of this story happened in a vacuum, so these friends get to be part of my story, too. I hope I'm doing them justice.

----

Jonah and I spent the morning of April 27, 2011 at my friend Noel's house. The Holleys were a really important part of my life at the time. Looking back, I think she might have been my first mom friend! She had 3 children at the time, and her youngest was Jonah's age. That made her an expert in all things parenting as far as I was concerned (and honestly, she was). She'd also been in Tuscaloosa for a while, had a husband doing a PhD at the university, and was open and outgoing enough that I could ask her anything. I'm pretty sure I got my doctor, grocery store, and favorite park because of her recommendations. She picked me up and took me along to book clubs, church meetings, and park dates. I met so many more people because of her. Jonah also learned to eat apples with the peel on (hallelujah!) at her house.

So even though I was mostly unaware of the weather risk heading our way (this particular line of storms was not a surprise, after all), Noel was not. She'd been through plenty of tornado watches and had the drill down pat. If I remember correctly, her family's plan involved eating marshmallows in the bathtub. There may have been a mattress in there as well? Either way, we spent some part of the morning discussing weather. We also spent part of the morning talking about pregnancy. Noel is the first person (other than Josh) that knew I was pregnant with Caroline...sort of. I wasn't even sure yet. I hadn't had a positive pregnancy test yet and things were still a little wonky after an earlier miscarriage, but I remember telling her reasons I suspected I might be expecting. We didn't know Caroline was cooking in there yet (or that she would be named Caroline), but the possibility was certainly on my mind. Noel was also expecting at the time, which will be an important detail later.

Although we didn't spend a lot of time discussing the weather, Noel did have the news on and was keeping an eye on the storm. Around 11:00, Noel sent Jonah and I home with instructions to get home and get our stuff figured out before any bad weather rolled in. According to the blog, Jonah had pizza for lunch, but he refused to eat any toppings (including cheese or sauce). When I told him this last night, he was appalled. "All I ate was the *bread*?" What can I say? Two-year-old Jonah had some opinions about food.

 

10 years, the day before

It will undoubtedly take me a few days to write up the entire account of what happened 10 years ago tomorrow, not to mention the time I will take to describe the days and weeks after. That said, I'm waiting until tomorrow because I know I will be thinking about it all day anyway.

What was happening 10 years ago today? For me, not much. The day before (April 25), Jonah declared ice cream, "more perfecter than cake and dinner." The next morning (April 27), he would refuse to eat any part of his pizza except the crust and then turn down a banana until the "crusts" (the strings) were removed. I didn't write on the blog on the 26th, so it must have been a normal day of entertaining a toddler and trying to figure out what to cook.

For the more weather-aware parts of the South, the 26th was a day of nervous waiting. I have experienced many days like that since, but on April 26, 2011, I was still pretty unaware of weather patterns and risks. If I had been paying attention, I might have seen something like this:

10 years, the lead up

10 years ago yesterday, there was a tornado outbreak in Alabama that included 29 tornadoes throughout the state and one EF-3 tornado in Tuscaloosa county (though pretty far away from our house). For us, the tornado on the 15th was a practice run and ultimately made "our tornado" a much safer experience.

On the 15th, when the risk of severe weather crept towards campus and our neighborhood, Josh asked me to bring Jonah to campus so we could shelter in the basement of his building. I packed a bag of movies, snacks, and toys and off we went. Josh and I ended up arguing later about the fact that I drove to the parking garage and (sort of) paid for parking instead of just parking outside the building in the faculty/staff lot. In fact, the garage meter would not take one of my bills and a kind student in line behind me ended up paying the rest for me (probably so he could get out of the rain as much as anything else).

It was pouring rain when Jonah and I ran across campus from the parking garage to Josh's building. Other than the rain, the day was uneventful. We spent an hour or two in the basement eating fruit snacks and watching movies (probably Cars, since that was Jonah's favorite at the time) on my laptop.

When we got home from riding out the storm warning, our yard was completely flooded. We let Jonah and Dixie splash and swim in the water while I checked on my newly-planted vegetable garden, which had mostly washed away.

There were some trees down, but not in our neighborhood, and no other real effects for us. Two weeks later, however, I already had a bag packed* (all it needed was some fresh snacks), we brought Dixie inside instead of leaving her in the yard**, and I didn't even bother to go to the parking garage.  Although my preference will always be to pay for parking***, we'd already made a plan as a family thanks to our test run on the 15th.

Our experience that day also led to a conversation that would later prove to be very important. We were hanging out with a group of friends we'd made through church who were newly married couples about our age. With the exception of one couple, every other couple had at least one student at the University of Alabama. In most cases, that is what had brought us to Tuscaloosa to begin with, although a few were from Alabama or surrounding states. We had representatives from Oregon, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and Florida as well (if I'm remembering everyone's hometown correctly). We were discussing the tornado on the 15th and what we knew/didn't know about how to appropriately shelter during a tornado (remember, most of us had not grown up in tornado-prone areas). Josh and I were debating back and forth where the best place in our house would be if we could not get to campus. I was arguing the hallway would be best (I'd heard internal rooms were preferred, and we had no internal rooms other than one hallway in the middle of the house). Josh was suggesting the bathroom would be best (bathtubs/showers are also good choices since they are usually smaller rooms with more structural support). In the end, we never did ride out a tornado at home, but the discussion ended up having some importance later.

*There were other things I should have done or would do differently in a similar situation now, but that doesn't take away from the fact that my bag was already packed on the 27th because of the tornado warning on the 15th.

**The poor pup. I should have taken her to campus with us, though I'm not sure how that would have worked out. In her kennel would probably have been better on the 15th because of the rain, but being locked inside during a direct hit was undoubtedly worse on the 27th. My point is not that it was better for her to be inside so much as that we made a conscious decision based on previous experience and tried to make a better choice. Poor little dog.

***Blame it on a combination of my fear of conflict, my intense desire to follow the rules, and the time I worked at the ASU parking office. I am very aware of parking rules and fees. It makes me a true joy on vacations, I'm sure.

5 years today!

I took a moment this morning to walk through the day in my mind (like I do every year). This year there wasn't even any sting. We told Jonah about how we worried about him and the way he tore up Grandma's lettuce and called it the broken trees. He says he remembers the stories but not the actual event. I'm glad. We hoped he wouldn't. There are so many great stories for him to remember, but I didn't want him carrying around the stress and anxiety of those first few days.

My Facebook feed is full of friends, many still in Alabama, sharing videos and memories from the tornado 5 years ago today. I especially like this video from the City of Tuscaloosa. I specifically watched this one instead of the others because I was looking for another perspective. I remember the funnel cloud well enough on my own, thank you very much. And yet, I teared up watching this, even though there was no footage of the storm and no James Spann (his voice will always take me back). Every year away we get from living in Alabama, it feels more like a distant memory. But seeing these streets and hearing these voices reminds me that part of my heart will always be in Tuscaloosa. 

Some perspective, after you watch the video:

-If you drew a line from the Forest Lake neighborhood and the Full Moon BBQ in this video, we lived on that line.
-Full Moon was the first place in Tuscaloosa that I liked. (Not just restaurant. The first place at all--We stayed in a crummy hotel and looked at some really awful rentals our first day. We were tired and broke and a long way from home. Full Moon was friendly and clean and the food was delicious. We ended up renting a house across the street and eating there 3 or 4 times in our first week.)
-I can't imagine surviving Katrina and then to be in Alberta during the storm. Alberta was practically leveled.
-I remember seeing the sign "We Are Coming Back" hanging outside a house on Forest Lake while everything slowly got back to normal.
-I knew Hobby Lobby (located right next to the Full Moon) bussed its employees to stores all over the area while their store was rebuilt so they would have hours and paychecks and health insurance even if they didn't have a way to get to another location. I didn't know Full Moon kept their employees on the payroll, but I'm not surprised. I love these people and this town.

Roll Tide.

four years

Four years ago this morning, I sat on a good friend's couch and told her that I wasn't sure if I was pregnant or not (turns out, I was). I left a bit earlier than I'd planned because she mentioned the weather might get bad and it would be good to make the 20-minute drive before any rain. I went home and made bread, but I opened a weather-tracking website just in case.  Not too long before this, Josh and I had debated the merits of various parts of our house for bunkering down during a tornado warning. We'd had this conversation with some new friends. Just a week or so before, a small tornado had touched down a few miles from our house. I'd gone to campus to wait out the warning with Josh in a basement classroom and he was so mad at me for taking the time to pay for parking. (I worked at a parking office, remember? I don't take parking regulations lightly.) Actually, as I was paying for parking, one of my dollars was too wrinkled and the machine kept spitting it back out. Eventually the student behind me got out of his car and paid for me with his id card. That time, Jonah and I had run across campus in pouring rain to meet Josh. There were tornado sirens wailing and the whole thing was rather eerie.

Four years ago this afternoon, we left long before the sirens. When James Spann* said the storms were approaching Tuscaloosa, I turned off the oven (annoyed, I might add. I hate it when something interrupts bread-making.) and packed up a bag of toys and treats for Jonah. When we left home, there were no sirens and no rain. It was Josh who ran across campus in the rain this time. We waited it out in the basement with the families of quite a few other students and faculty. We watched Finding Nemo.** When that was over, we watched the weather report as the tornado crept closer to our house until the power and internet went out. At the house where I'd been that morning, Noel was listening to the radio and started crying when she heard Krispy Kreme had been hit. She was due to deliver her fourth baby any day, and her husband assumed she was sad about the donuts. (We lived adjacent to the store.)

Four years ago this evening, we drove in the slowest traffic of my life the two miles back to our home. We called our parents. The storm hadn't made national news yet, so they hadn't had time to worry before they heard us say that we were all safe. I don't think it stopped them from worrying after we hung up, though. We called the bishop's house, but he wasn't home. His wife said he'd left as soon as the weather cleared to come and find us (and others, I'm sure). I don't get very emotional about the whole thing anymore, but remembering that still makes me cry. We walked/ran the rest of the way because no cars were allowed in our neighborhood. We were both filled with an unmistakable feeling of peace: we were safe. Things could be replaced or lived without. At the same time we found our house (harder to do than you'd think when the house next door is pushed off its foundation), so did our new friends. Aaron and Aly had no idea how bad it was when they left home, but they didn't make it where they were going. More streets were closed. They ran into our bishop who couldn't find our house because the mailboxes and house numbers were all missing. "We know where they are," our new friends said. They remembered the conversation we'd had about bunkering out the storm in the hallway vs. the bathroom. (For the record: Josh was right. The bathroom would have been the best, even though it was an exterior room.)

Four years ago tonight, we ate vanilla pudding and canned soup for dinner and tucked Jonah in at Aaron and Aly's. We would spend the next three months living in their spare room until we found our perfect, beautiful, healing house. Josh and Aaron left to go find some way to help. While they waited behind yet another traffic barricade, they looked out the window and saw a mutual friend working to clear a downed tree that was blocking ambulances from getting to the hospital. He had extra chain saws in his truck (who doesn't?), so they joined him. Aly cleared off a shelf in the pantry for us to use. Josh's dad jumped on a plane.

Later tonight, Josh and I will probably laugh about how a few months later, someone sat at our dinner table and told us that God only destroyed the homes of wicked people who deserved what they got (in his meager defense, he didn't know about our house). I will probably text my brave niece because today is her sweet boy's birthday and although she loves his adopted family, I bet she misses him today. But this morning, I am invoking my yearly right of indulgence and telling the same story again. I will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life. This is also the day when I am extra thankful for my safe and healthy children, particularly Caroline***, and when I think of all those who helped us in our time of need, but the sister missionaries who cleaned off every page of Jonah's books before packing them back up for me, and the Wyatt and Richards families especially. Roll Tide.


*James Spann fanclub for life
**Maybe coincidence rather than causation, but Jonah has never liked Finding Nemo.
***She was undoubtedly exposed to all kinds of asbestos and heightened levels of stress in-utero. I wonder sometimes if her tenacity is a result.

happy whatever day

I don't know what we should be celebrating today: friends, family, Verizon cell phone service, sunny skies, a child that appears to have mostly forgotten any anxiety he may have once felt about what happened three years ago, all of the above? So rather than any or each of those, how about we celebrate James Spann? If this baby was a boy, I'd seriously consider naming her after him. The Southeast is in for some rough weather over the next few days, so let's take a look at some favorite James Spann moments before we all pause to contemplate what can be so soothing and so terrifying about his voice at the same time. (Soothing = he's amazing. Terrifying = I don't really listen to him unless there's a big storm threat heading toward me or someone I love.)

There's this:
Where James Spann explains what a day in the life of a weatherman is really like.

There's this, where he answers the question people always ask (and have been asking as this week of storms heads toward the state):
THE “APRIL 27, 2011 QUESTION”: As I have stated many times, I don’t answer the question “will this be like April 27, 2011″? That event was generational with a total of 62 tornadoes in our state; on average those type days happen about every 40 years in Alabama. Like March 21, 1932 and April 3, 1974. All it takes is one tornado in the entire state, and if it comes through your neighborhood, that makes it YOUR April 27. We have to be prepared one way or another.

The Alabama Emergency Management Office sent a Twitter post late yesterday that contained some incorrect information, and tried to tie the coming event to April 27, 2011. Thankfully they deleted that tweet.

Severe weather events in Alabama are to be expected this time of the year; it is the core of the spring tornado season. This is not unusual, and there is no need to panic or be upset. It is very unfortunate some media outlets blow out as much hyperbole as they can scaring people into watching them or reading their material. That is wrong and a sad way of attracting viewers or readers.
Yes, this is a significant threat of severe weather, and yes, we need to be prepared. But no time to be fearful.

And this:
The time James Spann reflected on the 2011 tornadoes and challenged Diane Sawyer to a weather debate

And this:
The time the CBS college football announcers (who, let's be honest, no one in Tuscaloosa likes anyway) mocked meteorologists for their inability to correctly predict the weather during a football game and James Spann responded:
https://www.facebook.com/spann/posts/10151991993989936  

And this, the reason we trust him:
A very detailed idea (with multiple illustrations) of what to expect this week

the competition no one wants to win

As I was watching news coverage of the Oklahoma tornadoes last night, I was repeatedly irritated by the anchorman on one particular station. In what I'm sure was an attempt to do his job and tie together the various live reports, he kept making statements that sounded like he was trying to one-up any previous damage report. It is sort of like how women sometimes seem to get in these undeclared battles over whose labor was worse. Really? I find myself playing the game sometimes too, but even when I "win", it's never a very satisfying win. Let's practice letting each other be sad or in pain without feeling the need to prove our sadness or pain or natural disaster was worse.

Also, consider sending something to disaster relief efforts there. I have my eye on Feed the Children because they were feeding rescue crews lasagna last night, and when we were cleaning up around here we got tired of potato chips pretty quickly. If you don't want to send money or goods, a thoughtful note can go a long way to showing solidarity. The Primary in our ward (the little kids) got a whole packet of notes from a Primary out west somewhere a few weeks after the tornado here. The Red Hearts for Connecticut was another touching way to express concern from far away.

I by no means intend to dismiss how tragic and powerful this particular tornado was. It really was a worst case scenario in many ways. Still, I'm calling a truce on the one-up game. Let's have less making this a political statement and more celebrating the heroes of the day.

chills

At first, I don't even really notice what my ears are hearing. Then, my heart does a little panic while my brain catches up. Tornado sirens. Is it Wednesday? Yes. Panic shrinks a bit. Is it noon? Yes again. Much better.

Tuscaloosa tests the sirens the first Wednesday of every month at noon. Our big anniversary is coming up. We have a barbecue in the planning stages. I think we may have pudding cups for dessert.

half a year down, sixty or more to go

Today marks six months since the tornado that tore apart our town, home, and life. In most ways, we are better off now than we were before. Still, I'm a little melancholy tonight.

Some things still make me very sad. Sound and especially video clips of the storm and its aftermath are still unbearable. I don't know if I'll ever be able to stomach it, really.

All in all, though, we are much happier now than we were a few months ago. In some ways, we're even better off than before the storm. We're closer to each other, to God, and to friends and family (here and all over the world) who picked us up when we were a mess. We care less about stuff. While I care more about making our home clean and welcoming and calm, I care a whole lot less about what is actually IN said home.

All in all, I think we're doing well. Here are two ways that I know:

#1- I finally have some energy to get ready for this baby. While we always wanted her, there just wasn't any emotional energy to spare. One day a few weeks ago I just woke up wanting to talk and think baby. Suddenly, the baby stuff at the store was cute, the birthing books came home with me from the library, and the blankets and bottles we still have from Jonah got washed and sorted.

#2- I threw away a picture the other day that I'd salvaged from our home. It's a picture of Jonah and me that I couldn't bear to leave in the rubble. Seeing our smiling faces amidst all that destruction was just too much for me. It's been hanging on our fridge since we moved in. I've already ordered a reprint, but it's just so hard to throw away something like that. I finally decided I was tired of seeing the dirt and grime all over it (it was too caked in the stuff to ever hope to clean it off), so I took it down and threw it away. I almost pulled it out of the trash 3 or 4 times, but I did eventually just leave it. I still have a digital copy, I will soon have another hard copy, and most importantly: I still have the little face to look at in person. I'm grateful for that every day.

Happy six months, world! We're glad to still be here.

rebirth

Wednesday was three months from the storm.  I'm sitting in my new house that I both love and hate (mostly love).  I don't think about the tornado much these days, but in some ways I always do:

-I'm feeling antsy to get our new emergency bag packed.  There's no point until I can inventory what we have, but every time I pass a flashlight or first aid kits in the store, I wish I was buying them for my bag.
-Stormy days are love/hate for me.  Mostly, I love the rain and clouds, but I have a sneaking suspicion the first tornado sirens will creep me out.
-As we unpack, many things have not seen the light of day since the storm.  I'm washing tornado grime and glass shards and insulation off of everything I touch these days and it's tiresome and gross.
-When we find new things, Jonah grabs them and runs around hugging them.  For example, he's been sleeping with every single one of his stuffed animals that I've been able to find and wash, even the ones he's never cared for.  He cried one night because I couldn't put his books away yet since they were still dirty.  He reads his books over and over again as if he's not read a single book since April (even though I've kept us well-stocked with library books).
-One of the first nights here, he asked me to tell him a story about our old, broken house.  Instead, I let him tell me the story and it went like this, "Once we had a white house and then the tormado came and broke it and I was sad."

Still, as I drove past the lot that used to hold our neighborhood this morning, I saw grass.  It was likely weeds, but we've had some good rain this last few weeks and things are growing where my broken house once stood.  Most of town is unchanged since the tornado and we hate driving by broken homes and piles of rubble, but the sight of something healthy coming out of the destruction brought me a little peace.

the day's notables

"funniest" moment: when the insurance rep called to say, "I can't find your house."  Clearly.

wow-that's-really-cool moment: when after arranging to board Dixie while we're in AZ, Jo Anne discovered that they are not charging because of the tornado

saddest moment: going through the house, again, to itemize our loss

happiest moment: eating lunch with friends and laughing

moment of greatest relief: Josh meeting up with his professors and mostly sorting things out

things-you-don't-think-about-until-you-live-through-a-natural-disaster moment: waiting in line for over 30 minutes to pick up mail (I'd not considered what the mail situation would be...I knew I had to go get my mail, but I was not expecting such a line!)

miracle moment: when walking through the house with the insurance man, noticing a small purple box and saving the ring Josh bought me when we were in junior high.  He never gave it to me then, we did not remember to put it on the list (and who knows how long we would have forgotten), and it's value is primarily sentimental (read this as: could not be replaced even if we remembered to claim it).  That was a great save on my part.  Go me!

scariest moment: learning our house was covered in asbestos tiles and wondering what's now covered in asbestos.  (Yes, Steph, I laugh a little bit even as I worry about it...Asbestos, get off the couch!)

FAQ

In the interest of answering the most common questions all at once, here are the questions we are most frequently asked.  I don't mind questions at all, so ask away if you have any others and I'll update the post.

Did you know the tornado was coming? 
Yes and no.  I'd heard severe weather was headed toward Alabama, but that happens relatively often.  I did know enough to have the news on so I could watch the storm's progress, but I did not know until about an hour before the storm that it was headed straight for town.  At that point, I got Jonah and a bag of snacks/toys and we headed to campus.

Where were you when it hit?
We met Josh at his building on campus and hung out in the basement for about two hours.  We had done this once before when a storm was close enough for UA to cancel classes.  We snacked, Jonah watched a movie, and we watched the weather updates until the university lost power.  We stayed inside for another hour or so because there was a second tornado trailing the first, but once the sky cleared, we left.  One of the things I am most grateful for at this point is that we were not at home.  The places we were planning to bunker down were both intact, so we would have lived, but I can only imagine the horrible sounds, sights, and smells those who were stuck in the middle have to try to forget.  I'm having a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

Did you know your house had been hit?
We had a pretty good idea.  The news was reporting the twister was at the mall which is fairly close to our house, so we figured there'd be some damage.  When we emerged from the basement, however, and each had many frantic messages from people who had heard Krispy Kreme's was demolished, we started to worry.  Krispy Kreme's was just kitty corner from our house.

What happened next?  
We drove as close to home as we could through some insane traffic, but the roads were blocked off about 1/4 mile from home.  We parked and walked in.  While we drove and then while we walked, we tried to call someone from church/our parents to let them know we were okay (we'd had many calls) but there was virtually no reception.  It was similar to 9/11 when the networks were all flooded.  We eventually did get through to our bishop's wife and hoped she'd pass the word along that we were fine.  Jonah had fallen asleep at this point, so we carried him home.  We made it over a little hill north of our house (for those who have been here: the railroad tracks by the hospital) and from there could see nothing but devastation.  Before then, we'd not seen anything other than a few downed limbs and some broken glass.  The hospital was spared, but everything south was not.  The weirdest thing were the downed trees.  The area had many very tall trees and we were not used to an unobstructed view.  As we neared our house, we started to run.  We just could not make ourselves walk.

Could you tell it was your house?
We turned the corner and it took a minute to figure out which house was ours for two reasons.  First, our neighbor's house had been pushed back off the foundation, so that marker was gone.  Second, our laundry room was ripped off the back so the dimensions were off.  I could see some of our things through what used to be a double window, though, which was strange.  Right as we approached the house we looked up and saw some friends from church.  There was nothing I could do at that point but cry: cry for my house, and cry because they'd come looking for us.  Ally held Jonah (who asked her, "what happened to my house? where is my window?") while Josh, Aaron, and I surveyed the damage.  We were barely inside before we smelled gas and a police officer came over and told us to leave.  There was a gas leak in the neighborhood and they were clearing everyone out.  We grabbed our 72-hour kit and our box of files and left.  Ally took me and Jonah to her house and the boys stayed in town to help.

And then what?
The first eight hours were the worst.  We were in shock, there was no power so no news updates, we were still frantically trying to contact family and friends, our cell phones were dying, Jonah was upset, etc. etc. etc.  Josh and Aaron were out until after midnight, but around nine a man from our ward showed up with a bag of diapers, clothes, and toys for Jonah. Two of their boys are close to Jonah's age (one younger and one older). Their oldest was in my primary class and it was his job to pick the toys.  He was so proud to tell me on Sunday that he had selected the cars.  Dan's phone also had better reception than ours and he had power at his house (therefore he could charge it when he got back) and so he let us call people for hours.  I imagine his wife and children missed him, especially on a night when everyone wanted to be with their families, but we really appreciated the chance to touch base with family.  Up until then, only texts had been going through and even then only about half of them.

Where are you staying?
With Aaron and Ally (the couple that met us at the house).  They have been nothing but welcoming and there is no way for me to explain how great they've been in all this.  They're letting us store our things in their dining room and garage, they've fed us, cared for our mental health, made us homemade ice cream, done our laundry and Aaron even changed our fuel filter because he noticed the car coughing.  Ally is really allergic to dogs but they have welcomed Dixie, even though she's chewed up a cord to their outside lighting, their neighbor's shoes, and who knows what else we haven't found yet.  I could do every nice thing I could think of for them for the rest of my life and never make up for them scooping us up off our front lawn and taking us in.

Did you have emergency supplies?
We did.  I'm glad.  The things I was most pleased to find inside: pudding (things were not so dire that I wanted to eat straight tuna fish yet, but it would have kept me alive), clean socks and underwear, chapstick, sunblock. The things that should have been there: toys for Jonah, a weather radio, a pair of tennis shoes (we were all wearing flip flops), pajamas (I'd originally thought I wouldn't need them in an emergency, but I wanted something clean to sleep in...luckily Ally lent me something), copies of our important documents, neosporin, a solar-powered cell phone charger. UPDATED: I woke up to pouring rain today.  We should have had umbrellas or ponchos.  I actually think there might be a poncho in there somewhere, but one would not be enough for all of us.  Also, from my perspective, 72 hours is plenty.  After the first 48 hours, food and water were readily available at every major intersection.  By Saturday or Sunday (3 and 4 days out), the same intersections also had clothes, diapers, flashlights, etc.  There must be some wisdom in the 72-hour rule.

Were you able to get your things?
We've been to the house four times.  Each time I hope it's the last.  It is hard to see what I worked so hard to make home in pieces and my things and memories on the floor.  The pictures are the worst.  Even though I have digital copies, I picked up all the pictures I could find because I just can't leave a picture of my baby boy in all that rubble.  The first, that night, we grabbed a bag with our emergency supplies and our files.  Later that night, after clearing roads for hours, Josh, Aaron, and another friend went back and grabbed whatever Josh thought we would need in case we never made it back.  They grabbed a handful of clothes for Jonah (literally. We had some socks without matches and lots of pajamas since it was the top drawer), Josh's guns (he did not want looters having access to firearms, our scriptures, our wedding pictures, Jonah's baby pictures, the spare computer (which has personal information, etc), Jonah's two favorite stuffed animals (filthy and embedded with debris, but intact), a few of Jonah's cars, my sewing machine (that was him being sweet....pieces of it are missing so I'm not sure if it works, but it was very kind of him to think of that), and my flute. At about 4:00 the next morning, when I couldn't sleep, I made a list of what I would grab if we were able to get back in.  That afternoon, when Josh's dad came to town, we took him to see the house and went in to salvage what we could.  That walk through we noticed there was quite a few things that could be saved if we can ever get the mud and insulation off them.  Finally, the next day, we went by with a crew from the church and took out everything else we could.  I'm in the process of sorting through it now.  Some things, like Jonah's bed, were intact but I'm nervous they might be embedded with glass or other debris.  Still, we were much luckier than those who have nothing left but a foundation slab.

Where was your dog?
I left Dixie in the house in her kennel when we went to campus.  My thought was that I didn't want her to get rained on in the yard (she hates getting wet).  When we came back, her kennel was split open and she was gone.  I wished that I'd left her in the back until I saw her dog run smashed flat by a fallen tree.  We called for her but could not find her.  The next day, we talked to our neighbors as they also dug through rubble.  They were home during the storm and immediately after came to our house to check on Dixie.  They had seen me leave, so they knew we were not at home but they spent quite a bit of time both days looking for her.  They were our greatest resource when we brought her home because they love their own dogs, and they were very concerned about our pup.  A day or two after the storm, when we were inside the house, someone called out that Dixie was back.  I did not see who brought her home, but someone said she'd been found a street over.  She was clearly shaken and pretty hungry, but otherwise unharmed.  She is currently staying in our friends' yard.  One of the first things we did after we took Jonah and Byron to the airport on Saturday was buy her some dog food (we'd borrowed some from a friend) and a new kennel.  She was hesitant to go in it at first, but she's fine in there now.

How is Jonah?
He is doing as well as could be expected.  He has seen the house and is obviously concerned about the house and our things.  Whenever anyone starts crying, he gets very still.  He wants to know what is wrong with his broken house.  He will tell anyone who listens, "my house is broken, but mommy is going to find me a new house", so I think he understands that we will not be going back.  The first few days he asked to go home to his broken house and if we could fix it.  The worst part was while Dixie was missing.  He would ask, "where is Dixie? Is she broken too?"  We were very glad to not have to have that conversation with him and he was delighted to see her.  He was not sleeping or eating well immediately after the storm, but he is currently with his grandparents, and they report he is doing well.  The first night was definitely the worst.  When Brother Waddoups showed up with that bag of toys, it made Jonah's night.  He carried them around for the next three days calling them his own special toys.

What next?
For us? We meet with the insurance representative on Wednesday and we're looking for a new place to live.  We fly out to see family and pick up Jonah on Friday.  For the town? Clean up, clean up, clean up.  There are still over 300 missing.  At this point, five days later, I don't know how many more survivors we can expect to find.  There is just so much destruction.  Half of town is still out of power, thousands of families have lost their homes, probably tens of thousands of trees will need to be chopped and moved (Alabama is a very green place...even typing that seems unreal, but there was one house we visited yesterday with over 30 trees on the property, so I believe that's an accurate guess).

What is being done in town?
Lots.  I know there is more to do and I hope people don't get tired of helping before it gets done (I'm predicting months at least), but there are people handing out food and water all over town, Tide's Loads of Hope is here, mobile claim RVs from most insurance companies are here, power companies from all over the region are here, the National Guard is here, our church is bringing in a crew and supplies (in addition to the crews of workers who just live here anyway), Home Depot is giving away boxes and plastic tubs, the grocery store is giving away tarps, and most neighborhoods seem to be banding together.  There has been looting and I've heard reports of rape, but most everyone I've seen is looking out for someone else.  It has been a life-changing experience.  I hope to write down some of the relief efforts I've seen but my fingers are falling off already.

How can we help?
If you are LDS, contact your bishop or branch president and he should have instructions.  The region here is already organized and a emergency storehouse is being set up at the stake center as we speak.  The schools have posted a list of things they need here.  I hesitate to say this, but some friends of ours set up a fund for us here.  Another friend who lost more than we did can be found here.  It's humbling to accept so much help, but we greatly appreciate everything which has been done for us.  We would do the same for those we love.  The major reason I hesitated to mention it (other than knowing times are tight for everyone..$3.89 for gas? really?) is that we are better off than many.  Most of our furniture is fine if it can be cleaned.  Our closets were all fine (there's a reason people hide in closets and bathtubs when storms come through!), so most of our clothes and some of our blankets and a lot of the kitchen cupboard contents were salvageable.  I joke that next time we move I'm putting the stuff I use every day in the cupboard and the stuff we never use on the counter, that way if another tornado hits, the cherry pitter is ruined but my toaster will be fine.  I'd much rather have all the books that were on my nightstand, for example, than my box labeled "junk", but since the latter was in the closet, it survived.

Thank you to everyone who has helped, sent love, wondered how we are.  If you have any other questions, let me know.

some observations

We are working from the time we wake up until dark every day.  We're pretty tired.  Here are some observations:

-We eat so much.  Wherever we are cleaning or packing or clearing trees, people will come by with food and drinks (the best? cold water or cold gatorade).  It's ridiculous how often it happens and yet someone always finds the need to eat.  Last night, we were getting hungry so we decided to leave the back of the house and stand on the road.  The people in the first truck offered us water.  The second: help and a truck.  The third: food.  It was amazing.  Then we headed back to Ally and Aaron's and I made a quadruple batch of that bean zucchini thing.  Seriously, it was SO much.  Maybe two gallons worth.  In 30 minutes, it was gone.  Then we ate dessert.  Apparently manual labor makes you hungry.

-Many people are still in shock.  Most want to talk.  Everywhere we go people are wanting to talk about it, repeating themselves.  I know I've told the same people the same story many times.  So...sorry about that.

-The things that have helped the most: showing up (the people who show up and start working when I or whoever is too disoriented to know what to ask for), food (especially real food as opposed to potato chips, but at this point, we'll take anything), cold drinks, knowing there are people worried about you, gloves, sunscreen, chapstick, tweezers, anyone telling jokes.  I'm not sure my sense of humor is quite ready for telling jokes yet, but it does feel good to laugh.

We're off to a quick one-hour church followed by more clean up.  I'm going to be so strong.

our house