I survived nature’s latest temper tantrum in Middle Tennessee, and it was a doozy. Well, for everyone but my neighborhood. We seem to have some sort of bubble over Forest Hills. I watched with rapt attention to all the news reports on all the local — even some nationwide — stations and kept hearing about how bad it was all over Nashville and to our north and south. Then I’d look out the window and see sunshine with scattered clouds. I’d step outside and feel an occasional raindrop, hear an occasional peel of thunder, but otherwise all was still, quiet, peaceful even. Birds singing and everything you’d expect from a beautiful but cloudy day.
At one point WKRN‘s city-cam showed an impending super-cell fast approaching. The weather-casters warned us a tornado had been spotted and those of us in Forest Hills needed to take cover immediately because it was headed straight for us. I stood and watched from my back porch as the tail end of that huge super-cell passed over us, darkening the sky to the north and east as far as I could see. Newscasters on every channel were reporting golf ball sized hail falling outside their studios and throughout Nashville. But sunshine was the only thing that poured over me.
Later, when the tornadoes had done their best in Gallatin, Hendersonville, Goodlettesville, Columbia and beyond, and all the newscasters were reporting that the worst had past and all was calm in Nashville, that’s when all hell seemed to break loose around my home. The wind blew hard against my walls, causing the hard rain to sound like huge bb pellets smacking into my windows, lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The lightning and thunder faded after about an hour and all that was left was the wind and the rain.
I’m so grateful to God I "missed out" on all the crazy weather earlier! My heart aches and grieves for the all those who lost property or loved ones. It was all so unexpected, and so fast. We knew there’d be "severe weather", but all the models I’d seen put the worst of it to the south of us. Certainly I didn’t expect it to slam those in the northern part so terribly. I’m sure they didn’t expect it either.
It did amaze me, however, that as I left my office — a little before 2pm — that everyone around me seemed oblivious to the danger at hand. Everyone seemed out for a Sunday drive, going lazily down the street with not a care in the world. Meanwhile, the am radio station I was listening to was broadcasting constant tornado warnings for Davidson county (our county) and saying a tornado had been spotted on the ground right near the 65. I’m yelling and honking and begging people to move so I can get home before it gets worse.
Yes, I know the warnings were for northern Davidson county, and yes, I know the tornado hit the 65 far north of where I was, but still. It wasn’t that far.
I’ve decided. I like earthquakes far better than tornadoes. There’s no warning with earthquakes. There’s none of this crazy "its coming right for you, take cover now!" weather-caster-driven anxiety that leaves a person in near panic for hours at a time and then exhausted for days afterward. Earthquakes just hit, bang!, and it’s done. No warning. No sirens. No intense newscasters. No changing your daily routine to rush home in time to get to a safe spot. No pre-storm runs on the grocery store as all of Middle Tennessee rushes to buy milk and bread —-what the… is that about anyway???—- You just go about your daily life till it hits.
Yep, you gotta be prepared. You gotta already have your supplies (are you listening Nashville?). You’ve got to already have a plan for meeting up, for getting home, for taking care of business until things normalize a bit.
And I say, all of that beats this crazy "severe weather alert" weather caster-driven insanity Nashville calls "storm watch". Give me a surprise 6.7 (or 7.1 depending on who’s in power) Northridge quake over an anxiety-ridden tornado-waiting afternoon any day.
For great pictures of the devastation, go here:
I think you’d absolutely hate hurricanes. “It’s headed straight for you.” And it lasts a good 10 hours. And spins off lots of tornados. Lots of buildup. And then… then when it hits, you have no idea what’s going on because after hour three the power goes out. And you sit and wait. In Southern heat. Waiting. Waiting.
I hate waiting. So I usually try to sleep through them.
uh, Joe…?
I wouldn’t be STAYING if they said a hurricane was headed right for me! I’d be running like crazy in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION.
You crazy Alamabans…. I’ve heard about you…. 😉