A Grade 1 tornado came roaring through our area on Friday. What is so unusual is that tornados are NOT usual here. The last one that was even remotely close to us occurred in June 1888, according to some history buffs, and it was still about 70 miles away.
My DIL, who works in an explosives factory, had mentioned earlier in the day that the Weather Network was broadcasting the possibility of tornados. My son laughed at her. That doesn’t happen here, he told her. She still stressed that I was to take the boys to the basement if there be any sign of such weather.
I picked up my oldest rug rat from school at 4 PM, and then we both went for his two little brothers who were in daycare. After supper, we went outside to play for an hour or two; it was a beautiful afternoon. We went inside for bath time at 7 PM. My DIL arrived from work at 7:30; it had just started to rain, and a wind was blowing, but nothing dramatic. Being in the same mind set as my son (tornado not likely!), and knowing that he would be home from work too within the hour, I headed to my bush. The doggies would be hungry.
By the time I hit my bush road, it was POURING rain. I felt my truck shift as I took a curve. Whoa, I thought, skidding. Too much water on the road. I reduced speed, then realized that it wasn’t water but the wind that was pushing my truck around. I was close to the house, so other than lifting my awareness a notch, I wasn’t much alarmed. It stopped raining 5 minutes after I pulled into my garage. The wind was still quite brisk, and the clouds were low and dark, but I’ve seen worse. Within the half hour the dogs had eaten and we were out taking a walk. All was well.....in MY part of the county. At that same moment my poor DIL was trembling in her basement with the children, without electricity, hearing the terrible noise of the wind...experiencing her first tornado. She was also extremely worried about my son. He would be out on the road in this gale, driving back from his job, which is an hour’s trip west.
Her worry was well founded. Any other night, my son would have been caught on a road at the exact time the tornado ripped through there. That area was badly damaged, with hydro poles broken and down, trees uprooted, and silo tops torn off. However, halfway home, he had stopped to meet one of his friends for a quick beer. It may have saved his life. When he realized what had happened, with his usual route impassable, he called his family, and was relieved that everyone was okay.
I had an early bedtime, so was blissfully unaware of the event until the next morning. The only casualty was a small calf that was crushed under the debris of a crumbled barn. There is plenty of material damage, which is devastating, but it could have been worse. I shudder when I think of how close my son came to being in extreme danger.
He starts his ‘weekend’, or days off, as of tonight. When he gets home, I think I’ll drive over there and we’ll have a beer together, lifting it in a toast to those angels looking over us.
And yes, we’ll be SMILING!!
Luv from the Bush in Quebec.
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