The Little Girl Isn’t Dead

This is a continuation of my last post, The Little Girl is Dead.

While on our short vacation, my mind refused me the opportunity to forget about what was going on at home.  Instead it kept thinking about that phrase that was etched into my mind that night.  I kept running scenarios in my head about my girls; I didn’t like to, but I had to.

I felt bad for everyone who had been affected by this storm, especially the less fortunate ones who lived in that trailer court, right next door to me.  They had lost everything, and probably didn’t have insurance.  There were many children living there, so many that the schools had 2 buses come for pickup and drop off.  We would see them all waiting for the bus in the mornings on our way to work.  I still see their faces, and imagine what they must have went through on that eventful night.

I received two phone calls that Saturday while we were in Michigan, our power had been restored!  It had been out for around 3 and 1/2 days.  We don’t know how many utility poles had to be replaced in total, but it was a large number.

Since I had Internet access, I was always keeping up on the news.  Our township trustee had organized a volunteer day, to help with tree & debris cleanup.  This made all of us happy, and was the first step in putting my heart and soul to ease.  In the end there were a total of 3 volunteer days, but the news that an IU student had disappeared shifted the focus, and the volunteers.

We returned from Michigan on Memorial day, and reality set in.  While I had no damage to my home, we had lost about 10 trees; including our beloved apple tree.  Many of these trees formed a ‘natural’ fence along my property line.  They provided large amounts of shade and oxygen, they were also wrapped in vines.  Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m a “jack of all trades.”  I have had experience in cutting trees since I was about 12, when I helped my then step-dad do just that for a living.

We had already lost our weeping willow tree and a maple tree due to wind and ice storms that occurred earlier in the year, we purchased a chain saw so I could clean them up; I was prepared.  Little did I know how difficult the task would be when vines were involved.  This was a task I couldn’t handle, this task needed a quantity of experience people.

We decided to get estimates from tree-trimming businesses.  I called around 5 companies, only one showed up and gave me an estimate.  It was more expensive than we wanted to pay, and under our homeowners insurance deductible.  I wasn’t going to feel at ease until this was taken care of; I was literally stuck between a bunch of trees and a hard place.

I turned to our township trustee’s office.  I called them and asked for assistance, but let them know that I should be placed on the bottom of their list.  I let them know that it was simply downed trees that needed to be cleaned up, there was no damage to my home and that it shouldn’t be a priority.  While we could have paid for the cleanup; it would have presented a financial burden that we might have not recovered from.

A few days go by and as I arrived home from class an Mennonite looking fellow was at my house.  He said he was surveying what needed to be done; he was assembling a crew.  The next day when I arrived home, the trees were almost cleaned up!  It was a group of boys and a man.  At the time I presumed they were Mennonite, since they used technology.  It turns out I was wrong; it was the Worthington Amish Youth Group.  I thanked each one of them personally, and asked if they needed anything at all.  They requested some water, which I promptly fetched and then they went about their business.

With all the property damage and the trailer court in ruins, I was blown away that they decided to help ME.  My whole family is in their debt and are working on a way to pay it forward and show them how much we appreciate what they’ve done for us.

After they finished cleaning up the trees, a larger group, including women went over to the trailer court and assisted cleanup.

The effects of this tornado will be felt and seen for many years to come.  Not just from the people (like me) who live where it happened, but by the thousands of travellers that take that section of Highway 45.  I went through many years of emotional issues as a child, which I thought had toughened me mentally.  I learned the hard way that I was wrong.

While we are mainly healed from this event, our souls will never forget it.  That storm took something from me.  Even though I don’t exactly know what “it” is, I feel incomplete inside.  I don’t know how to move on from this experience.  Writing this has certainly helped.

 

The Little Girl is Dead

Those are the words my mind tricked me into believing were true.  I heard a fireman say something that sounded like that on the night of May 25th, the night a EF1 tornado touched down very close to my home.

My wife, a person who is always concerned with the weather told me that the night was going to be a rough one.  I hear this on a fairly common basis, but something told me that I should stay on alert that night.  She had radar from WRTV 6 up on her computer, and we had a combination of the local weather and The Weather Channel on our TV the entire night.

I remember the exact moment when I knew we were going to be in for something.  While watching the TV, they were showing all of the tornado warning/watches in Illinois.  The state was covered in red; meaning the state was covered in tornado warnings.

Around 10:19pm our power went out, and almost instantly after that our weather radio went off; it was a tornado warning for us and we knew that this was serious.  My wife headed for our basement and told me to grab Amelia from her crib if I thought it was appropriate.  While I knew this was a serious situation, I had to see it for my own eyes.  That’s when I picked up my flashlight and looked at the large maple tree in my backyard.  It’s large canopy was swirling in a clockwise motion, something I had never seen before in that large of a tree.

I immediately ran to grab Amelia from her room and rushed to our utility room where Rachel was waiting.  Even though I had experienced a similar event when I was 12, I had never felt the urgency or threat that I felt at that moment.  It was the first time we had ‘ran for shelter’ from a storm.  While in our utility room, we could hear the intensity of the storm.  There was no sound like a train, rather the sound of a large volume of air moving at a high rate of speed.  It went away after a minute or so, but we decided to stay in our safe place for a few minutes, just to be sure.

Immediately, I went outside to inspect for damage.  The first thing I noticed was that a large limb from one of my trees had broken and fallen on my neighbor’s fence.  I called him to let him know, and that was when my mental state took a dive that it hadn’t had in a very long time.


He told me that his daughter had called him and by listening to the scanner, she had heard that the trailer court right next to our neighborhood was completely wiped out.  I felt a tremendous urge to go see what I could do to help.  I got in the Kia and discovered that a war zone now existed less than 1/4 mile away from my home; I was also trapped in our neighborhood.

I discovered another one of my neighbors outside, I asked him what he knew.  He said that there were several children trapped in one of the trailers.  He told me that he offered his assistance, but they didn’t want anyone who wasn’t trained in search & rescue to help out of the fear that they might also be hurt.

I then heard those words that I couldn’t get out of my head, “the little girl is dead.”  I had to run back home, I couldn’t help and I could barely hold my tears back.

Out of what seemed to be pure survival instinct, I started tweeting.  Besides our land line, it was my only way of communicating with the outside world at that point.  Here they are:

  • I’m a prisoner in my own neighborhood and there are people dead less than 1/4 miles away from me
  • Trailers stacked on top of trailers, it’s a sickening sight! If I only had a line to the outside world besides this
  • I can’t sleep knowing that my poor neighbor children lost everything, almost their lives tonight. I also confirmed with the fd, no death …
  • I now wish it would stay dark so I cannot see the remains of what was #didthisreallyhappen
  • I’ve only lost a few trees, which I loved -I feel bad for mentioning it, but I think it should be noted.
  • Please put the children who just lost everything in your thoughts and/or prayers. They really didn’t deserve this
  • You never realize how much you appreciate freedom until that freedom is taken – quote me

I then went back and found a larger group of my neighbors.  One of which had a friend over who is a policeman.  We went back and actually did some searching with the fire department.  I snapped some photos on my phone, but due to the atmospheric conditions, they didn’t turn out too well.

I went back home and told Rachel that I couldn’t go to sleep, and that I was going to leave as soon as I could.  I felt disconnected from what was happening, I needed information.  Around 3am, I started seeing headlights from cars driving around our neighborhood – the road must have been finally cleared.  I packed up my laptop, phone and associated cables to charge everything and headed into the unknown.  My destination was the IU Wells Library, but I wasn’t sure if I would make it.  I had to try.

The journey is only about 6 miles, but it seemed like 50.  The entire west side of Bloomington was pitch black.  No stop lights or street lights.  When I finally made it to campus it was even worse.  Trees were down everywhere, what is normally a somewhat linear route ended up to be a criss cross puzzle.

I finally felt okay.  I sat with some of my TCC co-workers and briefed them of the situation.  I logged onto a computer and started my hunt for information.  I printed every article I could find, from the Herald-Times, to the Indy Star to even MSNBC.

Once everything was charged, and my search for information was complete I headed back home.  Little did I know that the drive home would be even more treacherous than the drive in.

Still no lights or businesses open.  It was daylight now, I what I had feared was true; it had to have been a tornado that came through.  While there were spots here and there in town and on campus that had tree damage, there was a defined path of destruction starting just west of Curry Pike/Leonard Springs Road on Highway 45.  This defined path followed me on my journey home, and that’s when I encountered the sheriff’s deputy blocking the road to my home. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked me.  “Home” I passionately stated.  He let me through.

The next day we left on a planned vacation to Michigan.  We felt it would be better to leave the sadness and destruction, than to stay and be constantly reminded of it.

I’ll continue this tale in my next post.