Life, hope, tornadoes

Jun 25

I don’t remember hearing much about tornadoes when I was very young. Since my father was a minister, we moved every few years to different churches. We lived in Canada where my dad, at times, hitchhiked (something more common in those days) in 50 degrees below zero weather. We lived in Minnesota and Wisconsin where I entered first grade. We were much more concerned with ice and snow than tornadoes.

I don’t recall much about tornadoes even when we lived in eastern Wyoming. It was dry country. When storms came, they came quick and violent with pounding sheets of rain and hail. Didn’t have much snow and many of the creek beds were dry except during spring runoff when the water roared through the creek beds and were best stayed away from.

Things changed when we moved to northwest Kansas. There we discovered tornadoes were a weather phenomenon that elicited caution at the very least. The parsonage basement had been made into a living area with one large room, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. Definitely, a pretty nice place to head for in bad weather and safety when tornadoes were spotted. I got sick in Kansas and was soon wheelchair-bound.

Was it the difficulty in getting the wheelchair down the stairs that kept us upstairs because I really don’t recall times we headed for the basement? Or was it because I spent much of our time in Kansas at rehab centers in Arkansas and Minneapolis?

In Iowa, we headed toward an interior room as we did once our family moved to Kearney, NE so I could attend college. After my husband Keith and I married, my brother built us a house geared toward my limitations. That meant no stairs and no basement.

When sirens warned of a tornado, I’d grab the kids, the pets, the radio, and snacks and hunker down in the main bathroom. It was the safest place as it was in the center of the house and without windows. (Keith was generally at work when sirens sounded.)

Storms and tornadoes tore off screen doors and damaged the roof—more than once. Thick branches were ripped from our trees. But we remained safe and thankful.

April 2024, we had a Scheidies’ weekend gathering. Keith’s siblings, kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids gather at the farm on Saturday and at the Mitzi Pavilion for Sunday brunch before everyone heads home to Colorado, Omaha, etc. This year, tornadoes hit hard sweeping through Nebraska. The Omaha area was hit hard. Our daughter and family live in Papillion.

Friday afternoon they started toward Kearney only to be warned about two tornadoes. Our son lives in Lincoln. Instead of continuing to Kearney, Kurt and Cassie and the kids diverted to Chris’ house to wait out the worst before continuing to Kearney.

It was tense. We covered them with prayer when they got back on the road. Cassie sent a photo of a tornado they missed by minutes. Despite the storms and rain, everyone got to the gathering safely and made it home safely. The weekend was a good time for catching up, hugs, and bonding with food, games, and fellowship.

Tornadoes are unpredictable in our environment, but our lives are also filled with tornadoes—those circumstances that throw us off our plans or bring pain or other tragedies in our lives. Even during our reunion, we thought about Keith’s brother Mark as the date marked when he lost his life to a freak accident. His wife Jenni remembered with tears but has also moved on with life and love—as Mark wanted.

Even in times of turmoil, we need to be careful not to wallow in the past. Grieve, deal with the situation, and cling to hope and faith. Let others come alongside. One step at a time, we can move forward and walk into a new tomorrow.

https://kearneyhub.com/eedition/page-a4/page_04798001-befd-56a7-afbe-76ebc2f149c8.html

Carolyn R Scheidies

Life, hope, tornadoes

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