May 2006 The Megaphone Page 9
Tornado
by Jan (Smith) Kleyla
May 11, 1970, is a day that I will never forget. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that I was pregnant and due within the month, or the fact that I had just been released from the hospital days before. It has everything to do with the weather that day in Lubbock, Texas.
It had been a warm spring day with lots of clouds in the sky, but still quite sunny. Per doctor’s instructions, that afternoon I was walking with my almost three-year-old son around the trailer park in which we lived. It seemed like all of our neighbors were out working in their yards, washing their cars, hanging clothes on the line, or just taking a walk like I was.
I stopped to chat with several of them, all of us thankful to be able to be out and about on such a nice day. Several of us commented on the clouds which seemed to be green-tinged even though the sun was shining brightly in the sky. Most of us were from places other than Texas and unfamiliar with the weather in Lubbock. Little did we know that those green-tinged clouds were a portent of things to come.
Several hours later, I was watching TV and chatting on the phone with my sister in Indiana. She had called to make sure that I was okay and that things were going well now that I was home from the hospital. I looked out my window and noticed that the wind had picked up tremendously. The tree outside my window, which was about eight to ten inches in circumference, was being bent almost double by the wind. I told my sister that I should end the call and pay attention to the weather on TV just in case. By this time the sky had grown dark, but it was evening and the sky should be dark, right?
Just as I hung up the receiver, out went the TV. There were still lights on in our tiny trailer, so it wasn’t the electricity. I looked out my windows to the neighbors on the right and on the left. They still had lights too, but the neighbors across the road had dark houses as if there were no electricity. I picked up my son and ran across the road to check on my neighbor there. Her husband worked nights at the Air Force base as mine did. I knocked on her door and she invited me inside. She had several candles lit and was rocking and crooning to her tiny baby boy.
Being from Louisiana, she said she wasn’t concerned about the weather because these kinds of storms (by then it was raining; actually pouring down) happened almost every day in the springtime. She continued rocking her baby and didn’t seem to be at all worried about the weather.
I headed back to our trailer to wait out the storm, but just as I reached the door, it started to hail. I made it inside just in time to keep from being pelted, but this only added to my worry. After a few minutes the hailstorm stopped and it started raining furiously again. Again I picked up my son and ran to the underground shelter provided for the park residents.
There were approximately 20 people in the shelter even though there were more like 100 individuals that lived in the park. Of course some were at work, but most were either in bed asleep (How in the world could they sleep?) or sitting like my neighbor in the candlelight.
The storms finally quieted down after approximately two hours. We made our way out of the shelter only to find limbs and twigs broken from trees clogging the road back to our homes. Finally back in our homes, there was no electricity for a few hours, but once it was back on we were glued to our TV sets.
Lubbock had been hit by devastating tornadoes. Not just one, but several. All roads were closed to traffic. We were asked to remain in our homes until further notice. Phone lines were down and there was no communication outside of Lubbock. On one local station they had softball-sized hail that one of the weathermen had picked up from a field on his drive to work. It had been under the hot lights for approximately two hours and was still that size. Most amazingly, he had seen a whole field full of them!
Those men (including my husband) who were on their normal shift at the Air Force base were sent to town to help in the clean up. If not in town, they were used at the base in the clean-up effort there. None were allowed to leave to check on their families. That was an additional worry for those both on base and at home. We were very lucky that there was little or no damage to our trailer, but several of our friends were not so lucky. They had damage to their homes and/or cars, but luckily none of them were among the casualties of the storm. One family traveling through Lubbock at the time of the storm in two vehicles was separated when the second car had to stop for a red light. The family members in the first car survived the storm, but not one person in the second car survived. The huge lights, built to withstand 250 mph winds, which had just been installed at Texas Tech Stadium were bent double. Many homes were completely destroyed. It was days before downtown Lubbock was again opened to traffic.
Just six days later on a Sunday, my youngest son was born. My parents were there before he was released from the hospital and were among the first to make the trip into town to view the devastation. Lubbock had been lucky enough to have a park with mature trees, a place that was probably under appreciated by the locals until many of those trees were destroyed by the storm. Whole buildings were just not there any longer and hundreds of people were without homes.
The city has spent approximately $840 million to rebuild. It is ranked as one of the top five costliest tornadoes. Even today it is remarkable in that one of its downtown buildings is believed to be the tallest building to ever withstand an F-5 tornado. A total of 26 people lost their lives and more than 35 years later, it is still ranked in the top 20 deadliest tornadoes in history.
For those of us who survived, it’s a memory that will never die.
Jan (Smith) Kleyla '65
Elwood, Indiana