Twenty two years ago an F5 tornado hit our town. The 1990 Plainfield tornado was a devastating tornado that occurred on the afternoon of Tuesday, August 28, 1990. The violent tornado killed 29 people and injured 353. This is my story of God's grace and protection during that storm.
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God’s amazing Grace
It’s amazing to me how only a few moments in time can affect one’s life and the course of history can change in only a matter of seconds without any given warning. Sometimes, though, warnings are given to us and it is up to us to have a listening heart. I often ponder at how blessed our family was that August day in 1990. I no longer ask myself if prayer can make a difference, because I now know that it certainly can.
A few nights prior, late in the night, I woke to an overwhelming fear that something bad was going to happen to my children. Looking back now it was as if God had allowed me to taste what could have become a reality. At the time, I could not tell what exactly it was that had caused my heart to race or why I suddenly felt a sense of real danger. I rolled onto my side hoping to not wake my husband. My body began to shake and as tears streamed down my face, I called out and asked God to keep our children safe from whatever it was that wanted to cause such great harm. I didn’t have a clue as to how those prayers would impact our lives only a few days later, nor was I aware of the danger that was lurking around the corner.
The day was no different than those prior and proved to be another scorcher. Humidity hung in the air so thick I could hardly breathe. At twenty seven weeks along in my pregnancy the heat continued to play games with my emotions and those of my family. Our two children, Ashley, age six, and Jacob, age four were often cantankerous as the days of no air conditioning seemed to drag on. I spent much of the summer trying to entertain them the that best I could; but it seemed that no matter what I did, we would all end up frazzled and tired.
That morning, as we started our day nothing indicated to me that our routine, as hum drum as it was, was going to be interrupted; and that interruption would also touch the lives of hundreds of others. Later in the afternoon we began to get ready for Ashley’s doctor’s appointment across town and as the time drew near, I began to notice the weather shifting. The thought of much needed rain made me whisper under my breath, “Thank goodness, some relief.” I walked outside to gather the garbage cans from the curb and quickly felt the hair on my arms rise. Goose bumps indicated a drastic drop in temperature. I looked off to the west and saw a purple sky which suggested a storm was indeed approaching. We had experienced our share of storms in Plainfield, also known as part of "Tornado Alley." I knew the routine and headed back inside to gather the children and pet dog to my side. Just as I reached the back porch, huge rain drops began to shoot down all around me. The TV was switched from cartoons to the news. The weatherman alerted us to incoming storms, with the possibility of strong ones, but he did not indicate a threat of tornadoes. Ashley, Jacob and I stood at the kitchen window watching with intensity noting that the wind was beginning to pick up very rapidly. Panic was setting in on Ashley, as she saw her plastic swimming pool tumble across the yard. She said, “What if it’s a tornado?” (She had stood with me in the past as several neighbors told their stories from past tornadoes.) I tried to console her explaining it was just rain and some strong wind and we would be just fine. But deep down I tried to gather my own composure as I held them close. All of a sudden, the pounding outside took on another sound. Our home was being hammered by large chunks of hail. In an instant, the sky began to flash and thunder rolled across, it was almost deafening. I knew I could not let my fear be exposed. Ashley’s anxiety was now trickling onto Jacob. As I tried to calm them both, the lights flickered followed by darkness. The darkness seemed to swallow the last of the light, even though it was mid afternoon. This storm did not waste a moment of time, I hardly had time to think and before I knew I was barking orders. “Get downstairs now!” My legs felt like lead weights as I rushed to gather some candles for our even darker basement. Ashley and Oreo, our dog, wasted no time as they sprinted down the stairs but Jacob wanted his mommy and did not sense the danger. As, I searched the drawer frantically for matches, our front door blew open. Thoughts one after another raced through my mind. Fear began to take hold as I was hit with the reality that this was not a normal summer thunder storm. My eyes focused in on the large trees in our front yard being whipped about by an invisible force that was now looming over our house. Somehow between the roars of thunder, which now seemed to blend together, I was able to hear glass breaking in the far end of the house. I literally heard a whisper that seemed to shout to my very core, “Tornado!”
I screamed to Jacob, “Get downstairs!” but Jacob hesitated and wanted to know what was going on. Not now Jacob. I scooped him up and flew down the stairs hitting every other one. As we began to turn the corner, I could see daylight from the corner of my eye. The back door was gone.
We huddled next to the basement staircase. Our only source of light came from the pilot of the hot water heater. To say we were scared is an understatement. Our bodies shook with fear, a spirit that gripped our very soul. Jacob cried, “Mommy, I’m scared!” I tried to calm my voice as I attempted to comfort the children God had entrusted to my care, but I too was terrified. What seemed like an eternity lasted only a few minutes, and in those few moments the life as we knew it was turned upside down. The sounds became deafening. The force strong enough to destroy our home, our security, was hovering directly over us. I could hear my Great Grandmother’s heirlooms crashing above. They had become cherished treasures that were over 100 years old and had been passed down to me. Now they were gone in only a matter of seconds. The winds atop us became a landing strip for something much larger than an airplane.
We huddled there shaking, adrenaline racing through our veins like scared rabbits. Ashley asked me if we could pray. Of course! Why had I not thought of that? I hugged them even closer and began to pray for all of us. As I called out to the Lord peace fell upon me and I noticed the noise was slipping away. We sat silent for a few moments. Once I felt it was safe enough to move, I followed a light which brought me to the stairs. The children didn’t want to leave my side, still in a bit of shock. I could feel their little bodies trembling as I held their hands. Because it had been such a hot day and like most of the summer we had gone barefoot; unaware of the dangers ahead. Concerned the kids feet would be cut by all the debris that had made it’s way down to us; I commanded they stay back as I ventured into the unknown territory of the dark basement.
I took inventory of the damage. Quickly, a new fear began to rise up as I took note of the collapsed walls lying on the stairs. There was broken glass, shredded insulation and black tar all over. Without hesitation, my hands followed the line of the concrete walls as I stepped into the pitch blackness of the next room. Reaching for the phone I took a breath and lifted the receiver. It was silent. I shuffled over to the windows looking for an exit. The only available window was covered with debris. With each direction I took, the kids and the dog followed me like a shadow. My legs began to feel weak. And I’m certain my face could no longer hide the fear that had consumed me. The kids began to holler for help but I hushed them trying to think of what to do next. My mind was so overwhelmed. Thoughts filled my mind of the neighbors who only moments prior had waved a friendly hello. Had others survived? Or was our home the only victim? Did they have enough time seek shelter? Why didn’t a siren go off? How bad was the damage? Oh Lord, what about my husband? Is he okay? I could no longer contain the energy that welled up inside of me. Fear like I had never known took over and lifted my head toward the caved in walls as I began to scream for help. “Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear me? Help us please!” There was a noise by one of the windows and before we knew it some of our neighbors were peeking in.
Those were some of the most precious faces I had seen. They offered to dig us out through the fallen walls, so we could climb out via the staircase. However, I began to feel a sense of claustrophobia; and insisted we’d climb out through the window instead. Obviously, I was not thinking rationally. But they were kind and understanding and removed the glass as best as they could. The children and I moved a table and placed it beneath the window. I helped to lift each one onto the table as the neighbors gathered them into their arms. The baby I was carrying was definitely aware of what was happening and as another surge of adrenaline ran through me, he turned and kicked. I carefully climbed onto the table and assessed the situation and wondered how I could fit through this window measuring only two and half feet by one foot. Again the neighbors suggested they dig me out, but I was determined to make it work. I began to slide head first, belly up. Their strong, but gentle hands covered my abdomen, trying to keep the baby safe as they moved me through the window. The sight of the blue skies as I slid out the window was a wonderful relief, until I saw the devastation.
What once was forest behind our home was now minimized to sheer match sticks. I looked to my left and to my right. No longer could I contain my composure as I couldn’t recognize anything around me. Tears began to flow at the sudden realization of how close we were to death! The sight around us was unbelievable, like a bomb had gone off. I could see devastation for miles around me. And my home, our sanctuary and the things we grew to love were now gone. I looked at the kids and they were unharmed, yet they were crying too. How much can they comprehend? An awareness of what truly mattered came over me. Kneeling down I wrapped my arms around them and thanked God for his love and protection. A neighbor opened his home to us while they gathered other survivors. The whistling of the gas meters penetrated the eerie silence of the neighborhood. Good Samaritans whom I had never met came to our side, each one doing whatever was needed in order to help those in need. One lady had a deep cut in her leg; someone drove her to the hospital. Other Samaritans were shutting off the leaking meters, while others searched homes. I felt for those who would be returning home from work to find nothing left.
The destruction was amazing. Home after home, life after life, affected by this storm. In the distance we heard police sirens and ambulances, as well as helicopters overhead. I couldn’t sit helpless, although my body told me otherwise. In a crude attempt to grasp some sense of control, I began to gather as much as I could from the rubble. Just about everything was covered in insulation, tar, dirt, nails and rain. Several people attempted to get me to relax and sit, but I was determined desiring to feel in control in an uncontrollable situation. What I failed to realize was that being in control is simply an illusion; there is only One who is in control. People came from the area wanting to see the damages to the neighborhood. A woman stopped by asking if there was anyone she could call. I gave her a couple of numbers and thanked her, wishing I could offer more than my feeble thank you’s. I was skeptical that she would be able to get through…all the telephone lines in the area were down.
Shortly, I saw a figure walking down the street that looked familiar. It was my husband, Cohlyn. Suddenly he caught sight of our car in the driveway and sprinted toward us. He explained that he had gotten a call from his boss who also lived in Plainfield and told him to get home as soon as possible. He and another co-worker drove home as quickly as they could. They first went to the co-worker’s house thinking the kids and I were at the doctor’s office. Once he saw the car sitting in the driveway his heart hit the ground. He ran to me and wrapped his arms around me. I lost it again. Anyone who knows him, knows he has a quick sense of humor. With tears in his eyes, he lifted my chin and said, “Hey, now you can get those new kitchen cabinets you wanted.”
He and others were conversing about what had taken place when I saw my father in law running down the street. My In-laws had seen the news report and immediately jumped into their car. The drive was difficult, roads were blocked and traffic was impossible. Once they got to our neighborhood, the police had blocked off the streets entering into the subdivision. So they parked their car and walked the rest of the way. Because the wind had torn down many of the street signs it was difficult for them to navigate. They knew our street was the last one in the neighborhood so they kept pushing along. They felt a sense of relief as many homes they passed were still standing. Once they reached our street, it appeared to be in fairly good condition, that is until they reached the middle of the street and saw where our house once stood. Our home was the first house on our side of the street to be leveled. Like Cohlyn, his parents raced the rest of the way.
It was a huge relief seeing them coming to our side. Not long after that Cohlyn’s uncle pulled up in his truck. By some small miracle he was allowed to drive onto our street. I began to tell the story of what had occurred and as I did, I turned and saw what was left of Jacob’s room. His little toy box was crushed. I began to cry realizing that only moments prior he had been playing in that very spot. It was truly a miracle we were all still alive. Cohlyn’s family was gracious enough to open their home to us. We can never repay all they have done for us. Not just during that time, but through many of life’s challenges.
There are so many memories from that day and the months that followed, and I know there will be many more nights around the kitchen table where we will continue to exchange stories about the day of the tornado. I will continue to talk about how blessed we were that day when God watched over us and gave us much grace in the midst of the storm.
