An Angry Sky Over Our Heads

An Angry Sky Over Our Heads

My brother, niece, and I spent the weekend at our parents’ and grandparents’ home in Oklahoma. My brother, whose home was now Minnesota, longed to hear a good old Oklahoma thunderstorm and be lulled to sleep by the patter of raindrops on the roof. Since rain was in the forecast, I told him this was entirely possible.

Thursday was hot and humid but we were having so much fun visiting, we didn’t pay a lot of attention to the weather. Thursday evening, the five of us–brothers Tracy and Richard, sister-in-law Linda, niece Missy and I sat around the supper table eating brown beans, cornbread, green salad, and peach cobbler. We had a grand time, laughing, talking, and remembering. We noticed on the radar a line of storms approaching. They were nearing Tulsa and heading our way.

I laughed. “Tracy, you may be able to get your wish for a thunderstorm tonight.”

Everyone agreed but we weren’t worried. We were Oklahomans. Although we all had a healthy respect for danger from the skies, thunderstorms were a part of life for us.

That night, Linda and Richard went home. Tracy, Missy, and I went to our respective rooms and since we’d had a long day, it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up with us. I was awakened by Missy standing at the head of my bed.

“The weather report from my phone says we are under a tornado watch,” she said. “At least, that’s one report. The other report says ‘tornado warning. Take shelter.'”

I sat up. Which was correct? “The weathermen always want to give sufficient warning,” I told her. “A watch just means we are to be on the alert. If there’s a warning, it means a tornado has been spotted moving our way. The tornado whistle at Gable Field will go off if we’re actually in danger. Since we are so close to the football field, we’ll be sure to hear it.”

“Okay,” Missy agreed reluctantly.

What should we do if the threat became imminent? Where was a safe place? My parents had a storm cellar out back but a strong wind had knocked a catalpa tree across it a few years back, destroying the top.

A few minutes later, Missy reappeared, calm, unflustered, matter-of-fact. “I think the tornado whistle is going off,” she said.

Yes! She was right. The chilling voice of the warning pierced the night–a low, throaty groan rising to a wail, dipping again, rising. The eerie blast went on and on.

“What should we do?” Missy asked, still very quiet and calm.

“We’ll get chairs and go to the hall,” I said. “No windows there and it’s in the middle of the house.

So, that’s what we did. We three, Tracy, Missy, and I sat in the hall listening to the blast of the warning as it rose and fell, rose and fell and I’m sure we all were silently praying. Lightning continuously flashed while thunder exploded over the house and rain beat against the roof and walls, driven by a fierce wind. We listened to the voice coming through Missy’s telephone telling us where the storm was headed. Finally, it became clear that the threat of a tornado had passed north of us, the siren droned to silence, and we looked at each, safe and sound.

“You certainly got your wish,” I told my brother. “You wanted a thunderstorm and the sound of rain.”

He agreed. “But I don’t remember wishing for a tornado,” he said.


Weather is an important part of every one of the Darcy and Flora and Ned McNeil mysteries.

Comments

  1. Dawn Manos says

    Exciting. I’m glad all was well.

  2. A few years ago, we sat in my son’s bathroom in Minneapolis waiting for the sirens to come to an end. It can be quite scary. Humans realize how little power they really have when stormy weather passes through!

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