When a storm rolls through the North Dakota prairie, a couple of things happen. Buildings are destroyed. Memories are made. Although I’ve never seen a building flattened, storms certainly hold a special place in my memory.
There wasn’t much that scared my Grandma. The storm Grace describes must have come very close for her to hightail it to the house. Neither Grace nor I were ever afraid of storms. Perhaps I learned from those old farm gals?
My dear ones,
When I was about three or four years old there was a tornado that nearly blew us away.
Everyone except Mama and me had gone to Lake Williams to get groceries & mail when the storm came up. Mama never was afraid of storms so we sat out in the yard on a washtub and watched the storm approach. It was like a dark wall moving in when she decided we better go into the house. The rain & hail & debris beat on the windows and roared like crazy. When it passed everything but the house and the small barn to the west of the house was gone, including the washtub.
She wasn’t aware of the fact that we should go into the southwest corner of the basement as we do now so guess we were lucky to be alive.
With love, Grace