Debris fell from the sky all thru that night and into the next day. Occasionally a rock or clump of dirt would pummel the house, reminding me of hail. Several times the wind hammered with tornado force dimming the lights and causing the TV to flicker. The walls shook and vibrated sending family photos crashing wildly to the floor. With each horrendous battering I questioned the stability of our house. We stayed away from the windows not knowing if they’d withstand the force of the wind. One gust caught the edge of our back screen door, ripping it open and slamming it against the house. Karlie and Ian were terrified and clung to me in fear until Grant ran up and pulled it shut again.
The first night we slept huddled together on the couch in the cool unfinished basement. The cement walls were comforting, creating a solid structural barrier against the elements. The TV remained on all night as we waited for any new information or directions. Grant and I slept very little; it was uncomfortable and downright scary. We passed the hours in awkward silence, not knowing what to say or make of the situation. I stared at the clock for eternity awaiting morning’s salvation. But morning brought no more light than night had provided.
By afternoon things began to calm some. The wind died down and debris from the sky ceased its attack on the house. However, sand fell from the heavens like rain pattering against our roof. Although the sky was black it was eerily illuminated during the day. By the next afternoon we ventured out of the basement and tried to go about life as we normally would’ve, with the exception of leaving the house. The kids felt safe enough to play and sleep in their rooms and it seemed that we’d weathered the worst of the storm.
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