THE STORM OF
OUR LIVES
Subcategory: Life Experiences
BY
R.V. HIGHT
Springtime in Central Carolina is a beautiful time, especially when
the azaleas are in bloom. I had planted the azaleas in our yard
many years before, and here they were – on April 16, 2011 – now
in full bloom and worthy of a photograph. My wife Bunnie had
suggested such, but I thought I had at least another week before the
blooms would be past their peak.
There were reports of the threat of stormy weather later in the day.
Hopefully, the threat of inclement weather would be over before I
was to serve as a judge at a local spring festival.
We began to keep an eye on television reports of storms –
including tornadoes -- that were brewing in other areas of the state.
It appeared as though the storms were far enough away that I could
take a bath and prepare for the festival.
As I was in the bathroom, I was unaware of any immediate
weather issues in our area — other than the fact that the sky was
dark and overcast.
I had not been in the bathtub long when my wife came into the
room and exclaimed, “You need to get out of the tub and get in the
closet. Now!”
It was not until later that I had learned she had heard a media
report that a tornado was in close proximity. Also, she had seen
some kind of swirling action in the distance. She thought it might
be leaves, but it had actually been portions of buildings that were
being tossed about by the approaching tornado.
It was time to exit the bathtub to join my wife, my daughter Holly
and our cat Sassy in the master bedroom closet.
I ran into the bedroom and rushed to pull on a pair of dress pants.
As I put my legs into the pants and fastened them, I literally
jumped into the closet and shut the door. Just as I did so, the house
shook and I realized we were in the midst of the storm of our lives.
With my wife and daughter huddled on the floor, we were
surrounded by lots of clothes that hung around us. I sensed the
pressure was strong and noticed our 16-year-old cat literally trying
to climb the closet door. About that time, a light fixture fell from
the ceiling. I could feel the rain and see sky where the light fixture
once was attached to the ceiling. I waited for the closet to
disintegrate, but it didn't.
As suddenly as it began, the roaring sound was over. What seemed
like an eternity probably lasted about a minute, 51 seconds to be
exact.
As we caught our breath, little did we know the EF-3 tornado was
destroying other properties throughout our city. Two people would
lose their lives.
We opened the door and noticed that the bedroom looked intact,
although we could see that a window had blown out of the
adjoining bathroom.
As we entered into the hallway, we looked to the left. The door to
the playroom was partially open and we could tell that the room
had literally been blown into the yard. A couch had stayed in place,
but much of the contents of that room had been blown into the yard
… and beyond.
As we went back down the hallway, we could see that the windows
in the two front bedrooms had been blown in and all kinds of
debris had infiltrated those areas. That debris included a tree limb
where the family room had been ripped from the side of the house.
A portion of one of the bedrooms was left exposed. In the other
bedroom, a projectile had blown into a closet, leaving a gaping
hole.
Then, as we reached the front door, we looked to the right and saw
where the front wall of the house had been blown apart and debris
filled the dining room. The room was a disaster, including an
antique dining room table and chairs that had long been a part of
my wife’s family. Besides the furnishings of that room, it appeared
as if there were portions of other homes or buildings that had been
blown through the walls and ended up as debris in that room.
There were even dagger-like boards that had lodged their way into
the walls.
The front windows of the family room had blown out, so strongly
that the wind had blown out a set of French doors that were located
in the back of the room. Debris from the outside had invaded that
room, as well. It was a mess.
Our front door was open, and the glass outside door was shattered.
We looked out to see unbelievable damage, much of which looked
like a war zone. Never before have I witnessed such major
devastation. Trees snapped. Power lines downed. Vehicles that
looked as if they had been involved in a bombing. All four of our
vehicles were a total loss.
As we assessed the major damage that had befallen upon us, other
than the death of close family and friends, I was left with the most
deflating feeling that I have ever experienced. Deep down, I knew
that all would be ok in the long-run. We had survived and no one
was injured. But I realized that there would be a long recovery
period and life would never be the same. When something like this
occurs in one's life, it's the kind of event that can shake you to your
core.
Our St. Andrews subdivision was a neighborhood that had taken a
major hit, with sirens blaring in the distance as they were
approaching our area. "The EF-3 tornado cut a four-mile path of
destruction through Sanford, with winds reaching an estimated 160
mph and the storm itself measuring about three-tenths of a mile
wide," The Sanford Herald reported.
A lone man walked by and asked if we were okay. We responded
that we were. There were sounds of sirens in the distance and we
realized that they were heading in our direction.
My daughter called our son Chris and daughter-in-law Jenni to let
them know what was happening. Of all of the damage, it was
amazing that our phone service was still available.
We returned to the closet, where rain was pouring in, so we
immediately placed plastic tubs in hopes of keeping what was in
the closet as dry as possible. We saw a crack in the ceiling and
knew with the rain that there was a possibility that it might
eventually collapse. It did not, held in place by my daughter’s
Barbie doll collection on a top shelf. That collection could have
well saved our lives that day.
We were in a daze and the emotions were running raw. What
should we do? What could we do? What were the next steps?
Eventually, we wandered into the yard which looked like a disaster
zone. A power line had fallen near two vehicles parked in the front
yard. The damage to both vehicles was devastating, as both
vehicles were obviously totaled.
As we turned the corner and saw the other two vehicles parked in
the driveway, they too had sustained tremendous damage and it
appeared obvious that neither vehicle would be fixable. Windows
were blown out. Debris had blown into the vehicles as had the
rains.
All of the trees in our yard were down and our driveway was
totally blocked. Even in my most vivid imagination I could have
never conjured up the vision of destruction that just hours earlier
had included those pristine azaleas.
As I looked at the empty lot that we owned next to our house, the
many pine trees that once stood majestically were all snapped by
the storm. Debris from other homes could be found all around the
downed trees.
But perhaps the most disturbing part of viewing the outside was
seeing our family room that had been blown off the foundation and
had landed into the side yard. All kinds of once prized possessions
from that room now littered the yard. That included many books
that we had accumulated over the years. My wife’s prized sewing
machine. My laptop computer. And lots more.
There was the master bedroom closet, our salvation, still in place,
although the family room that surrounded the closet was gone.
Debris was scattered in the yard.
Soon thereafter, friends and family began to arrive. It wasn't easy.
Our once tranquil subdivision had massive destruction, and we
would later learn that the roads were blocked. A mass of
emergency vehicles and personnel descended upon the area to
offer help and protection.
Two of my co-workers had found their way to our home. It was the
first time that my emotions took the best of me, as I couldn't help
but hug them as I cried. Just to see someone we knew was a relief.
They shared in our loss by comforting us and offering themselves
in any way to help.
In the days ahead, so many others would offer help in various ways
— all much appreciated. But it's the moral support that truly means
so much — to know that so many care.
My son and I would stay at the damaged house that night. We
walked around our home ... and our neighborhood. We talked to
neighbors and emergency workers. I learned about more of the
damage in our neighborhood and in other areas of town.
I was surprised to see so many emergency vehicles and officials,
many of them coming from other counties to help out in those
early hours.
As darkness took over, the realization of the day had left me
feeling numb.
Although it was April, the nighttime air was cool. As Chris
attempted to sleep in a recliner in our family room — in which the
windows had been blown in and there was debris throughout the
room, including plenty of pine needles — I laid on the couch that
was full of glass.
There would be very little sleep. How can one sleep when you can
hear the noise of generators, see emergency workers walking up
and down the street and smell the fallen pine trees? When I turned
over, I could feel shards of glass through my clothing.
I would close my eyes and try to sleep — and when I did close my
eyes, I kept thinking it was all a dream. Then I would open my
eyes and realize that, no, we had survived a tornado and life would
not be the same.
It was the last night that I spent in our St. Andrews Church Road
house, which had been home for 30 years.