Last evening, a friend was camping about 30 miles North of us when the tornado sirens went off. Where do you go when your camping and have a tornado siren? To the cinder block outhouse. And there they stayed until the all-clear was signaled.
Their notification reminded me of my personal connection with Mr. Tom Tornado. It seems he appears in my life on a regular basis, comes close to knocking on the door of the house or nudging the car I’m driving and waltzes away, swaying back and forth like some of my in-laws when they over-enjoying the weekend.
My first recollection of meeting Mr. Tornado was when I was in grade school. I was on safety patrol and school was letting out, but there was a tornado siting near the school. For some reason, however, the safety patrol was sent out to assist the students crossing the streets. Yet, some of the teachers would not release their students because of the tornado.
So here we were, doing our safety patrol job while most students were staying in the school until Mr. Tornado left the area. A few of the students had been released and were patiently waiting on the school bus for the other students to be released so the bus could begin its route.
Mr. Tornado didn’t get us, but we did get soaked to the skin as well as experiencing how well the school has strategically planned for a high stress situation.
Mr. Tornado went away for about six years and reappeared the day of my high school graduation. Normally, my high school would have graduation ceremonies on the football field as the bleachers provided enough room for family to attend the festivities. Since Mr. Tornado was lurking in the area, the school principal determined to hold graduation in the auditorium, which sat 1200-1500 people. My class size was around 550 students, so very few family members could attend.
My older brother took off to go swimming, my younger brother disappeared, my Dad went to work on his medical office accounting and Mom got to catch a glimpse of me walking across the stage from a stairwell.
Tom (Tornado) didn’t stay away too long.
During my second year of college, my roommate was taking a train to Chicago for the weekend. Am-Trak’s closest station was 45 minutes by car. We borrowed a car and I drove him over. On the way back to the college, the rain kept getting heavier and heavier.
It continued this way for about 20 minutes. As I rounded a corner, someone turned off the rain. Immediately.
AHHH. This is nice. I can see and drive more easily now. No wind. No storm. Not even a sprinkle was on my windshield.
Looking to my left, I realized WHY it was nice. Tom was about ¼ mile off the road, throwing dust and parts of barns this way
and that.
and that.
I don’t recall running into Tom for about 25 years after that. But Tom made his presence known early one morning in 1999. I was awakened by loud thunder. What woke me was not so much the thunder, but the thunder didn’t die out. It kept thundering on and on for about 30-45 seconds.
Shortly afterwards, it began to pour rain. “That’s wild”, I said to myself. “I wonder what time it is…” I rolled over to look at the clock but the electricity had gone off and it was pitch black outside. I rolled over and went back to sleep.
I called my girl-friend about an hour later and told her about the thunder that wouldn’t die out. We spoke of some other things and said good-bye. Getting to work was mandatory, but I still needed to dress and have breakfast.
Six minutes later my girlfriend called back and told me a tornado had gone by my house. I was fortunate as the twister had put a large tree into the second floor of a house two blocks away.
When my friends pointed out their concerning moments with Tom last evening, my memories of Tom Tornado and I spun around in my mind.
Maybe things seem like they are twisting around – politically, socially, culturally and more. You may be yelling, stop the spin – I want to get off.
I don’t know how to do that, but I do know how to help you prosper, even if you are living in tyranny. Learn how by going to https://TedLeithart.com/prospering-in-a-socialist-society/
