What's Important (04-27-08)

I originally intended to write this article about track. Funny how things work out. You have the best intentions, all the plans in the world, and then mother-nature steps in and reminds you about what is really important.

I had just returned from the second of two middle school track meets held last week, the Trego Invitational. While watching a little TV, my wife comments, “Did the ticker at the bottom just say, “People in Graham County – TAKE COVER!”

Sure enough, when the ticker scrolled through again, we discovered that Graham was in a Tornado warning. So I jumped on the Internet and went to Weather.com. The site has an interactive radar option that displays a loop of radar images taken every five minutes over the last hour.

The loop is always five minutes behind the current time, but the animation was clear. A large, nasty, deep red storm was heading right for Hill City.

Within minutes, KSN broke in to confirm: “Let us remember our friends in Hill City as this monster storm bear down upon them,” I remember Dave Freeman saying.

In fact, I don’t ever remember hearing the name of a town in which I have lived repeated so much. “This storm will be in Hill City…,” “Hill City is directly in the path of this storm…,” “The residents of Hill City should take cover immediately,” and my favorite, “The town of Hill City is about to get hammered!”

By this time the kids were asleep in bed, but the message was clear: it was time to head for the basement. We woke up the kids, found the dogs and cats, gathered some candles and flashlights and the diaper bag for the baby and huddled around the downstairs TV. The TV weatherman began predicting softball sized hail and a tornado, “Heading straight for Hill City…that’s right, folks, HILL CITY, as in HILL CITY KANSAS, in just a few minutes…”

We began to think where the safest place in the basement would be. My wife immediately thought of the closet that fills the space under the basement stairs.

This is the closet for my four year old, Jocelyn, and I had recently remodeled the space, installing a couple of fluorescent light strips and some carpeting. Joce has turned the closet into a bit of a play house, and we had to first clean the area of Barbies and stuffed animals before we all climbed in.

The ceiling of this confining space follows the slope of the stairs leading down into the basement. Going shortest to tallest, we placed Jocelyn at the lowest point farthest in, then Nathan and Lacy, and then myself holding the baby. My wife, who is a touch claustrophobic, stood in the open doorway. We had battery-powered radio which, in static-filled reception, kept repeating the mantra started by the TV. “Hill City is going to get it. Hill City is in the path of the storm.”

But we could still hear the TV going from the main part of the basement, and after what seemed like ages, we heard Dave Freeman announce that the storm had passed Hill City.

After we all trundled out of the closet, I returned to Weather.com and looked at the animated radar loop. Like a giant pendulum, the storm swiped down in a southeastern path towards our town, and then swooped back northeast just as it reached town. Only a small section of the red went through town, and except for modicum of marble sized hail, we were saved.

It is enough to make you believe in miracles. It this storm had waited another ten miles before returning north-east, our town would have been pummeled. As it was, there were many farms and crops that had to deal with gigantic hail, and I heard that some of the buildings and homes in Nicodemus suffered serious damage. But Hill City, mercifully, was spared the 80 mph straight-line winds, the baseball and softball sized hail, and the tornado that accompanied this storm.

Yet, all the while my family and I were cramped into that closet, I was reminded about what was really important. Had a giant tornado reduced our town to matchsticks, we had everything important in that closet. The house, the cars, the school, the town, while important, do not compare to the family and friends we all hold dear.

So I decided not to write about Track. In the light of everything that occurred Thursday evening, suddenly a school event did not seem to be such a big deal. I am so thankful that our town was spared, but I am equally grateful to be reminded about what is truly important.