More Weather Woes

I’m not sure what we in Arkansas have done to make Mother Nature angry. Whatever it is, I wish we could send up some sort of apology. Tornadoes, flooding, more tornadoes, more flooding. Sigh. Ten days ago, I listened to a Little Rock station as tornadoes pounded central Arkansas. My sister and her family were literally in the bullseye of the storm. So were other good friends, from Benton to Little Rock to Sherwood.

The next day, my family was in Little Rock, and I spent time with my sister. I wondered if they took cover during the storm. Or, if the males in the family heeded the universal homing signal. You know the one. When the weather siren goes off, every male must go outside and look up. I’m not sure why, I just know they do.

They live in a split-level house, three stories. Her bedroom is on the top level. Did she go to the lowest level and take cover? No, she went to the top story and went to bed. She knew there was bad weather in the area, but apparently with the peace that comes from clean living, she wasn’t particularly concerned.

That is, until I got there. Our old high school suffered major damage. The auditorium was lifted off its foundation, then set back down about a foot away. The roof on several buildings were torn off. More than a dozen trees were down, as well as utility poles.

The baseball complex next to the school was completely destroyed. Light poles down or leaning at an angle. The fence twisted like some oddly shaped free form art. The concession stand demolished. Bleachers that had been set in concrete were standing upright, smashed into a fence.

The airport, also home to the local weather service for that area, took a direct hit. Airplanes tossed around like toys, hangers crumpled like so much aluminum foil.
My sister, who weathered the storm without fear, saw the damage with me and realized the impact. She lives two miles from the school, less than three from the airport. Those were the winds that passed over her home, thankfully without harm.

I am amazed, each and every time, at the fickleness of nature. Steel and concrete bleachers were moved, yet nearby a plastic trash can remained upright, it’s plastic liner still in place. One tree down, yet another one stood. One house destroyed, yet another unharmed. On the school campus of Sylvan Hills where the high school, the junior high, and even the elementary school all had damage, a single wide trailer remained unscathed.

The senior class of Sylvan Hills High School will spend at least part of the rest of their school year at my sister’s church, First Assembly of God in North Little Rock. It’s a large church, and when the call came for help, the pastor immediately offered the church’s 25 classrooms.

I find it comforting that in a real crisis, those so called barriers between church and state break down. It’s not the first time First Assembly has stepped in. A fire at an elementary school several years ago moved students off campus, and into the church.

I am more than ready for Mother Nature to take a nap, a pill, a potion, or whatever else and get over herself and her bad mood. I’m ready for calm winds and sunshine, for the ease of one day being pretty much like the next day weather wise.

Until that happens, I guess we will all have to watch, and wait, and wonder. And the next time my sister is in the eye of the storm, perhaps she will heed the warning, and head downstairs instead of up. Or, perhaps not. Clean living has to count for something.