Like dodging a freight train 200 yards wide

at it's widest, the tornado was 200 yards wide.

i had been lying in bed reading when the EBS warning went off. i ignored it. they run so many tests i think of them as static. then the lights dimmed, flashed, and went out. i heard a strange popping noise and went to the window to see what was happening. i looked for the skyline but it was not there. i wondered why i could see large objects rotating at eye level. i live on the third floor. something slammed into the glass and it shook me out of my daze. i was staring eye to eye with a freight train. it was heading straight for the building.

there was a moment when i thought that i was at the end of it. i only had about thirty seconds to figure out what was going on and what to do. zero warning. it was really the incredible roar and tremble that motivated me. i grabbed gertie as debris started slamming against the window. the curtains were sucked against the glass like they were in a vacuum. very bad sign. as i ran for the hallway with gertie, i felt the impact and the entire building began to vibrate and concrete dust began raining down. i could hear the roof begin to groan under the pressure and strain, as we are on the top floor. i could not get to the basement in time, not even to the second floor as the elevator was out and the stairs are at the far end of the building from me. i just sat down and held gertie and waited for the roof to cave in. i think i was crying. i know i was screaming, even though i could not hear myself over the roar and the breakage. i was hoarse for two days. and then it suddenly stopped. just amazing silence, then little noises creeping into your awareness: the sift and creak of concrete falling and settling, small groans and moans of people creeping out of their hiding places to check that they are still alive, unharmed. then we all began to check on each other and made a silent journey down the stairs to survey the damage and make sure that we did not suffer some aftermath tragedy where the roof gave way after the tornado passed. all in all, three days without electricity, some smashed windows and minor roof damage, we are all fine and well, if not a tiny bit traumatized.s o i cannot begin to understand what the people in the cotton mill lofts must be feeling, as they look across the way and the only other loft building to take such a direct hit is still standing, barely scathed and intact. they must be devastated to have to pull themselves from the wreckage one more time (it burned down in 1999). the pictures do not do justice to the damage. an entire section collapsed, pancake fashion, all five floors. no one was there at the time, a fairly large miracle. i would not be surprised to see all, or at least part, of the structure condemned. i am grateful and guilty at the same time.
i finally suffered a bit of post traumatic disorder on the one week anniversary of the tornado. i had a small emotional melt down, but i think i needed it. i just carried on normally all week, making jokes. then, it didn't feel funny or normal anymore. i kept remembering that moment when i thought gertie and i were going to be buried in tons of concrete and steel. and i wished i could let leslie know i was sorry. sorry i had not called her one last time, sorry i stayed here while she went to minnesota. it seemed like a good idea at the time, though, didn't it? that was the toughest part, thinking abour her in those last seconds. and then you feel foolish because, well, nothing happened, really. not even a scrape or a bump. and all she could do was be terrified from 1100 miles away upon hearing and watching the news. so i am happy to be here. glad to be writing this instead of being a statistic. it could have been much worse. it felt like it was, for a moment or two. this is sweeter, by far. to be doing this instead of doing nothing, being nothing. to be given a chance to make another phone call or two and change my mind about a few things. and i have. i intend to be a little less anonymous and take a chance or two. after all, it isn't every day you can fall under the wheels of a freight train 200 yards wide and live to tell the tale. intact, whole and in love again
xoxo,
peg