When this happened, I was at work, 4 miles from ground zero. We were given 10 minutes to abandon our glass front building and run for cover. I was terrified. Not one to hesitate, I grabbed my keys and purse and ran out to my car as quarter-size hail pelted my head and car. We found shelter in a large hallway in the sub-floor of a mall across the street. People were crying. A mother standing near me insisted her young son urinate in a mop bucket nearby. "Don't let him do that," I told her, shaking my head in stern disapproval. For whatever reason, she complied with my wishes. I don't know why I was so gruff. I think I just wasn't ready to accept the terms of our current situation. I wasn't ready for a real-life Katrina aftermath in the super dome event in the sub-floor of a dying cathedral of consumption.
We were given an all clear and we walked out of the dark hallway into the mall. My friend and co-worker was crying hysterically. She had heard that a tornado had hit two local elementary schools. She believe her children might be in them. She was so panicked and terrified that she had become confused about the names of her children's own school. People were trying to connect with family members. It was a scene of mass chaos.
Leaving there, we were told that another tornado was bearing down soon. I began to panic. I tried to drive to my mothers house in OKC, but the streets were so flooded I couldn't get through. I found myself wandering glazed-eyed around a thrift store nearby. I just needed to get my bearings. My sense of spatial acuity was incredibly off. I was disoriented. I tried numerous times to reach my children and I finally was able to connect with my son. He was fine, but I didn't know how my daughter was doing. I didn't know where the tornado was heading. I was center OKC and my son was just on the south side of Moore in the adjacent city. The radio stations weren't broadcasting the news.
When I finally made it out to my car, I found that the engine had died due to battery failure. because in my panic I had left the lights on. A kind man jumped my car and I drove it out to the street, only to have it stall at a busy intersection. I got out of my car and stood by the road. I felt I was in danger sitting there in my car. I felt so alone. Cell phone towers were down or blocked. I was finally able to reach my boyfriend who was also trying to traverse a panicked and flooded city from the university where he teaches. A wonderful couple reached out to me at the side of the road and offered to push my car with theirs into a nearby parking lot. I was overwhelmed. I thanked them profusely and gave them a hug.
We began to drive in the direction of our children. We found that as hard as we tried, we couldn't get through. The tornado had ripped our city in two. On one side were my children and I was stuck on the other side. I couldn't get home to my children. 11 hours later, our car overheating, we had to abandon our efforts. Luckily, the mother of my boyfriend's children who also lives in our city offered to take my children in for the night.
As you can see from the video, it was an extremely frightening event. I will not ever allow myself to be placed in similar circumstances. The people of Oklahoma are benevolent, as evidenced by the kindness extended to me by strangers. However, the Governor of Oklahoma, despite the fact that tornadoes are a predictable part of our state's history, despite the fact that two elementary schools were destroyed, refuses to extend state money to build storm shelters in our elementary schools. She has placed that burden on local government, whose revenues, as you can imagine, vary drastically. Like I said, I hate our state politics!
No comments:
Post a Comment