Dan watched a mustard yellow sky and listened
as sounds of birds silenced. Rain had
been pelting grain fields
hard the past few hours with wind sweeping across the farm.
He had always been
known for his honesty and degree
of readiness in storms like this.
The last time the sky was yellow and the air heavy, Dan recalled how specific he had been about getting
the family to safety, telling them what to do when the tornado touched
down.
Back then the funnel
had lifted his heaviest truck and ripped the bottom carriage right off, flinging it to the neighboring
farm. Tornadoes flagrantly pass through, shredding a life’s work in a matter
of seconds.
Dan watched for Jenny
and the kids, praying for them to be safe.
As he headed to the shelter, his old Toyota tore into the drive. “Now!
Get in now!” He ran to the shelter behind his family.
Dan wrapped his
arms around Jenny and his children in the shelter as the roaring monster touched
down. “Safe. Safe…” They all prayed.
The underlined are Wed. Words are from May 2022.
This is tornado season throughout the Midwest. I grew up in there, never experienced a tornado there. Our farm was surrounded by cliffs and cornfield. But other places on the plains were swept by strong winds.
One day when my folks were out, the air turned yellow, and there was a silence like never heard on a farm. We were scared, being young ( I was 11), and didn't know what to do. Nothing happened. We talked about where we could go. No basement, no shelters?
I decided that heading down to a small muddy creek that ran deep through a trench leading to the Bay Creek.. That would be safe, despite other dithering siblings' opinions that we should go to the barn. The barn was built 100 years ago, not all that steady.
People in those zones are brave and resilient. God bless them and keep them safe.
