In which I confess my tornado phobia . . .

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

. . . and invite others to do the same, so I can feel like I’m not a complete nut.

I wouldn’t mind thunderstorms (cool light show, sound of the rain, etc.) if they didn’t also often bring tornadoes along with them. It’s the one thing I hate about summertime.

We used to have a pretty cool “tornado zone” in the basement that Mr. S built. It was basically a solidly built bunk bed in one corner of the basement, with a built-in light fixture and power outlet. It was really nice when I was working a night-shift job, because I could just go down there and sleep through all the warnings until it was time to go to work, instead of having the weather radio alarm wake me up every time there was a flood warning 200 miles away.

But now things are different, and I think a lot of it is because I’m the breadwinner and self-employed, and if our house gets blown away, so does my office. So I get totally paranoid about storms.

Thunderstorms: I have all my computer stuff connected through UPSs, but when actual thunderstorms come through, I prefer to just shut them down and unplug everything to get it completely off the grid – especially if I’m going to be away from home, or overnight. (I hate being somewhere else and wondering if my computers are getting fried, or waking up at 3 am to the gentle rumble of thunder and having to think, “Crap, I gotta get up and go shut down the office” – which involves crawling under the desk to unplug.)

Tornado watches: All of the above, plus haul a bunch of crap down to our new “tornado zone,” which is basically an unfinished shower stall between the basement stairs and a half-wall under the ledge that leads to the old basement crawlspace. Depending on the amount of time I have, here’s what I take:

External hard drive with fresh backup
Laptop case with laptop, power cords, jump drive with current files
Lately, my new computer itself, just because I haven’t added it to the insurance list yet ($1300 I don’t care to lose)
Hard-copy files of all my current work
Maybe my box of software CDs, if I think of it.
Dress in comfortable clothes that I wouldn’t mind wearing if they’re all I have left
Purse, cell phone, cordless phone handset, weather radio (there’s an outlet in the “zone”)

The “zone” always has blankets, water, candles, matches, batteries, flashlights, and dog leashes in it. Basically, I get myself as ready as possible to hightail it down there with the dogs in case of warning (I keep the weather radio running on low volume). It doesn’t help me that with Mr. S working 2nd shift, I’m usually home alone when storms roll through. Then again, being here alone lets me feed my paranoia (hauling all my shit to the basement) without an audience.

I guess my fevered brain just thinks about what would would I regret losing most if the house blew away over my head. Besides myself and my dogs, I want to protect my ability to work. So basically stuff that would be expensive or difficult to replace; I’d want to be able to get back up and working ASAP in case of disaster. I can easily buy a new monitor/printer/whatever, but a computer with all my software and data ready to go would be harder to replace (!).

I know that a lot of this is completely irrational; what are the chances that this particular house will get trashed by a tornado? And people do recover from such disasters, and that’s what insurance is for. But then again, it’s all I have. Puts rather a damper on my work schedule, though, when I feel the need to shut everything down when I had been planning to be working to make a deadline . Like now, for instance. Sometimes I work on the laptop, on battery, but that’s not always feasible.

Luckily Mr. S understands and doesn’t mock me; on the rare occasions when we are both home during stormy weather, he lets me do my thing (and perhaps relaxes in the confidence that I will have thought of everything!)

Well, there it is; I’ve bared my fool fraidy-cat soul. And it sounds like the storms are rolling back in, so I suppose it’s time to shut down again.

Have fun laughing at me . . . see you on the flip side.

2

No laughter from me, I admire your preparedness. I unplug my electronics when there’s lightning, too. I don’t have a basement, so for tornadoes, I move to a small interior area with sofa cushions, a windup radio and my prescriptions. I’ve got a nice weather radio with battery backup and customizable warnings. It just wouldn’t shut up yesterday; along with everything else, we had three tornado warnings. I’ve also made sure my neighbors know where I always go, so they know where to look for me if necessary. Lately, I’ve been thinking one of those buried prefab shelters might be a good idea, with all the strong storms we’ve been having. This house survived a near pass from an F1, but it was rockin’ and rollin’…something big or a direct hit and the house will be a scrap heap in someone else’s field.

3

You remind me of the woman in Oklahoma City whose worry wart boyfriend built her a shelter in a closet. She hid in there when there was a warning; spent the night in fact. Next morning she opened the door to find a FEMA truck where her living room had been. That structure was the only thing standing for blocks. First time that anyone had survived an F-5 tornado in an above ground structure. Next time the sirens blow, I’ll join ya.

4

Wish I had a basement to use as a tornado area. I have a 90+ year old frame house over a 2 foot crawlspace. Last night, we had tornado warnings in the counties to the west of us, then the counties north and south of us, then the counties east of us as the line of storms went through. All we had was severe thunderstorm warnings. But there were reports of 5 tornadoes on the ground in our county, one of the reports from my mom and nephew, who got into their 5 foot crawlspace when they saw it coming.

And it turns out that while I can hear the civil defense siren when they test it every Monday morning, I can’t hear it if I have my TV or stereo on or if I am playing a game on my computer. Apparently everyone in town was getting into basements or hiding (We got hit by an F4 a few years ago, we are somewhat paranoid right now.) except for the CD people and me. :stuck_out_tongue:

5

This season the warnings have been so frequent, I just said to heck with it. The space under the basement steps is cleared out, but if I bothered to pack things up to take with me, I’d be packing and unpacking all the time.

We got a second weather radio so we’d have one upstairs.

I used to love watching storms, but now as soon as the wind comes up, I head for the basement.

6

Here’s a story to fuel your terror (or not, maybe it will make you feel better.)

First, some background: my mother was terrified of thunderstorms and tornadoes when I was growing up, so I adopted this fear from her. We didn’t have a basement so she would make me go into the garage and hide under the pool table. Whenever there was a storm, she would force us all to be glued to the Weather Channel. Sometimes she would tape up the windows in anticipation of high winds.

This fear kicked into overdrive one afternoon when I was at an amusement park with my pastor’s family in 8th grade. This amusement park (Cedar Point , officially the most badass roller coast park in the history of the world and a yearly tradition for me) is located on a long peninsula jutting into Lake Erie. I was waiting in line for an indoor ride (Disaster Transport) on a calm, partly-cloudy day when suddenly all the staff shooed us out the door, saying, ‘‘You can’t be in here right now!’’ We demanded to know why, and the lady staffer replied, ‘‘You’ll see once you get outside.’’

Outside it was overcast and raining, but nothing seemed amiss and we were very confused-- until we noticed the funnel cloud forming directly overhead. Note: I was ALREADY terrified of tornadoes and I’d never actually seen one forming before. People began to scramble for cover, vaulting behind the ring-toss counters and such, and I located a bathroom that was so stuffed with people we sort of had to huddle in the outdoor hallway–until we looked up and discovered another, MASSIVE funnel cloud forming in the parking lot, above and not too far to the south (I’m talking yards, not miles here.) It was making its way to touchdown–you could watch it spidering down, almost in slow motion. Jesus I get chills just remembering what it was like to watch it come lower, and lower…

We ran. I ran toward the Raptor (a giant green roller coaster on the coast) only to see ANOTHER tornado coming from behind the coaster, this one had touched down on the water and was spraying up a foam of lake as it roared toward the shore. To run from something you fear and be confronted with the thing you fear, everywhere you turn… it’s the stuff horror movies are made out of, I swear.

We ran some more, into an arcade. I fell down in the chaos but some dude nearby was remarkably cool headed because he helped me onto my feet. It was basically the only building around they would let us in, and it was full of glass and heavy objects. There were some youth groups there holding hands and praying for their lives.

The very anticlimactic (but fortunate) ending to this story is that no tornadoes had reached land, so nobody was hurt and damage was minimal. According to my pastor, who was at the North end of the park, there was a funnel cloud over the Magnum and another water spout (he took pictures, the crazy bastard.) I was told water spouts are pretty common and generally don’t reach land, so apparently the perceived danger was greater than actual. Nevertheless, this brings us to 5 funnel clouds/water spouts at one time, all within a mile of one another, and I’ve pretty much eyed every dark cloud with suspicion and paranoia ever since. Also, my nightmares ever since are filled with tornadoes. Filled with them.

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It’s stories like these that remind me why I don’t live in Michigan anymore. That and the memory of not seeing grass from November to April.

Folks in Jersey just don’t understand what it’s like to have to cower in your basement at three in the morning in the middle of May.

Hey olives, aren’t you coming to New Brunswick? This is definitely a point in favor of your move.

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All quiet for now, and Mr. S due home in less than an hour. Phew!

Thanks for the reassurance that I’m not a complete loon. I always feel so stupid. I was Googling earlier and saw that lilapsophobia is most common among children. Great.

I left out the best part about today’s storms: after I got everything set up, I actually felt better just heading on down there anyway, even though there weren’t any current warnings for my county (though they seemed to be heading my way). It just seemed easier than waiting and pacing around up here; down there I could get the dogs settled in and (try to) read my book, which relaxed me a bit. Plus one dog has to be carried down (she hates the basement stairs) and I wouldn’t much like having to do that when I was in a hurry myself.

3acresandatruck: Customizable warnings? Tell me more. I would love to be able to tell my radio, “You know what? I don’t care about flood warnings in Iowa. Just sound the alarm when anything’s happening in my county or these few that border it.”

chacoguy420: As I was sitting in the “zone” today, I kept looking up at the walls and ceiling and thinking about what was behind them. Is it strong enough to keep shit from raining down on my head if the house caves in?

olivesmarch4th: HOLY FARGIN SHIT!!! I’d have needed a change of pants. Glad it all came out OK. :eek:

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http://www.nws.noaa.gov/nwr/nwrrcvr.htm

You go down to Wal-Mart or Circuit City or wherever, you get yourself an official NOAA Weather Radio (you can’t use an ordinary AM/FM radio, NOAA weather radios broadcast on a totally different frequency) and you follow the “SAME” instructions to tell it which area’s warnings to broadcast. Scroll down to “Residential Grade Radios and Features” for more information.

Station listings, coverage, and their SAME numbers are here.

10

Michigan, hell! I’m just glad I don’t live in Kansas or Oklahoma. I would never leave the basement. Here in Michigan we always have tornado warnings, but the tornadoes rarely do much damage – I think there was one F5, like in 1950.

As a matter of fact, I am moving to New Brunswick, and though I shall miss my fair state dearly, the lack of tornadoes is one of the many reasons I look forward to the move (milder winters would be yet another.) I’m actually going to be out there this week (Tuesday-Saturday) looking for a place to live. It’s a relief knowing I won’t have to find a place with a good storm shelter.

I can never sleep during storms. There’s one going through right now. I was almost asleep until I heard someone outside scream (for some other dumb reason, I’m sure) and I’ve been wired ever since.

11

When I was young I never paid attention - Mom would pack us into the basement and we’d watch TV until it was safe to go upstairs.

In 1979, my parents bought a cabin in Annandale, MN. That following June two tornadoes met right out front of our cabin. Luckily, we were not up there. Parts of the deck were found 1/2 mile away, never found the shed, and we had fish in our backyard (up a 200’ steep hill). What amazed me was seeing a branch through our living room window - perfectly centered, no cracks or chips otherwise in the window. We still have the stick as a memento.

When we rebulit the cabin we added a basement, which has come in handy more than a few times. Two years later we were up there when storm clouds came rolling in. I was between my parents on the couch, watching the clouds deepen and spin. I remember the pressure and the deep whoosh of air, and lifting off the couch. Then it was gone. We lost a few more trees, and that was it.

When TheKid was younger she was petrified of thunderstorms, but she worked it out. She is in awe of tornadoes - loves their beauty, but understands how devastating they can be. Three years ago, again at the cabin, we were listening to the radio when my dad popped up and told us all to head to the basement. She freaked, started crying, panicking. Dad was wonderful with her. We watched the wall cloud forming south of us, he was explaining everything to her. Luckily, nothing touched down near us (it formed a few miles away, but didn’t touch down).

Lately, though, we’ve been storm magnets at the cabin. Over Memorial Weekend the tornadoes that hit Hugo, MN, started building up over us. We were, of course, in the basement.

I respect the weather - you have to. But I will admit I am one of those people who will watch it roll in, until someone drags me to the basement.

12

My aunt grew up in the Midwest, and when she married she ended up on the West Coast, in California. She said she couldn’t live around where tornados were such a danger. I used to think, “What about the earthquakes?”

I’m a native Kansan, and grew up being used to tornado drills in school. During warnings we’d just go to the basement and hang out until the radio said it was over.

But today is June 8th, the 42nd anniversay of a massive tornado that hit Topeka, my city, when I was 11. I was watching “Lost in Space” and getting annoyed with the constant breakins for weather announcements. Then the sirens started, and this happened:

http://www.crh.noaa.gov/top/events/66tornado.php

This time we didn’t hang out in the basement, Mom had us under the downstairs bed, and she looked really tense. Years later she said she hoped she hadn’t shown how scared she was. We were lucky to have no damage to our home, but I distinctly remember hearing a voice on the transistor radio hollering “It’s coming over the Mound!” Burnett’s Mound is in the southwest part of the city, and was easily visible from our place. The house I live in now was damaged then by the tornado, and if the path of the storm had been just seven or eight blocks further north it would have taken out the Capitol building, most of the downtown, and both major hospitals. As it was, it was the costliest tornado up to that date, and even in adjusted dollars remains one of the most costly. After my dad got home my mom, a nurse, went out to see if she was needed for treatment help at work.

13

Exactly. I have my radio (and my neighbor’s radio; I bought one for them when I bought mine) set up to go to an automatic audible alert only for severe thunderstorm warnings and tornado warnings. I’m always aware of watches and I just need to know when it goes to warning status. I get warnings for any of three counties, because of my location. Now that I think of it, I may have left both radios set up to go off for a nuclear attack, too. Heh.

Anyway, Duck Duck Goose had it right: you just follow the instructions on an official weather radio. My neighbor and I have the Midland WR-300 All Hazards Alert Weather Radio.

Fun tornado story: you know how to make that sound by blowing across the top of an open soda bottle? Imagine a soda bottle almost 20 feet tall and 18 inches across (my chimney) with a 110mph wind blowing across it. Loudest, wierdest groaning sound I’ve ever heard. Even wilder was the stuff you could hear over the noise from the chimney: the storm itself and the shrieking sound of metal tearing (turned out to be parts of the garage walls and the doors tearing off). But the garage stayed up, even though it was damaged. My neighbor’s barn just missed my house; but we never knew for sure if it knocked down that line of 50-foot trees or just went through that space after they went down on their own.

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Baker, that thing is monstrous! Why on earth were you guys not in the basement that time?

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Tornados are not to be screwed with, mocked or ignored.

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A camera over an ATM machine in Parkersburg recorded the destruction of a house across the street from the bank… Linky

Gives me chills. “Go to an interior room.” Yeah. Right.

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I live in North Texas, and go to college in northern Oklahoma. There’s generally one storm a year that gives me the major the heebie jeebies.

I have an interest in going on a storm chasing trip, but being in the path is not my idea of fun.

Once, as a kid, I was watching the Wizard of Oz on broadxast TV with the family and they broke in with a tornado warning for my county. It was a nasty storm, and that really scared me to death.

18

My grandmother, many years ago (probably around 1910or so), while living on the plains of Nebraska was picked up by a tornado – and carried for about 50 yards, then set down gently against a fence, not a hair on her head out of place.

We don’t get that many tornadoes around here, fortunately, but the other day when we had a really nasty line of storms with lots of “cyclonic action” passing through, I took all kinds of precautions. Unplugged everything, clear off the grid. We don’t have a basement, but I prepped the interior bath with a heavy quilt. Put the dogs on leashes so I could get them both in there with me. Put on comfortable clothes with pockets, and had wallet, flashlight, and cell phone in various pockets. And last but definitely not least, I put on protective shoes – after going through Northridge, the first thing I think about now in a natural disaster is the insane mess underfoot!

Fortunately, the storms split and went north and south of our house – there’s a river nearby that seems to cause this to happen with about 90% of the storms that come nearby. But my husband had a far more interesting time in D.C. – he was in his car, and not only did he nearly get flooded out, the water came up so fast, but he managed to just stop in time to avoid having a live power line come down on his car.

At least I don’t need a weather radio – between weather warnings on my computer desktop and a dog who has massive thunderstorm phobia, I am never unaware of a storm approaching.

Respecting tornadoes and taking sensible precautions is not a bad idea!

19

I did some digging and found the date of my Cedar Point experience – June 30, 1998. I was 15, apparently, so this would have been between my Freshman and Sophomore Year of High School.

Someone took a video of one of the water spouts:

Sandusky Bay Water Spout

Notice they are skinnier and shaped differently than a typical tornado. Apparently the force that creates a waterspout is different than a land-tornado force. I can’t figure out where this is being videotaped from, because it’s not inside the park.

Some other people posted in YouTube who remember being there that day–someone was actually on The Raptor when they saw it forming! :eek: , but no mention of the overland funnel cloud I saw in the parking lot. Crazy.

20

Interesting. We do have a NOAA radio, but it’s not customizable; just broadcasts the weather reports, watches, and warnings for basically the whole state (although I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything for north of about Marinette), and can be set to play constant weather or just sound alerts (and you can then switch it to weather to hear what’s going on).

Last night we set it to alarm only, and it went off around 3 a.m., no idea why, it was just playing the same all-state watch that had been announced yesterday. Pah.

I’m going to look into one of those SAME dealios.

We’re supposed to get more storms this afternoon and tonight, but right now it looks pretty quiet. I left most of my junk in the basement just in case. I can get some work done on this old computer and pull files to the jump drive if I need to.

I keep forgetting to mention the one time I thought we were really getting the Big One. It was May 2000 (maybe some of the other WI Dopers remember this one). I was getting over a cold and was watching TV and snoozing on the couch. Suddenly I woke up and saw that it was very dark outside, like nighttime. Mr. S was working the day shift at the time, and I wondered (1) why he wasn’t home yet and (2) how I could have slept so long. A glance at the clock – 11:00 – and I suddenly realized that it was 11 AM. And pitch black outside.

OH SHIT. Some bad juju is about to happen.

I grabbed the phone handset and the pet carrier in which our new 3-month-old puppy Phyllis was conveniently sleeping, and followed 6-year-old Scout into the basement (she was all too happy to lead the way). Just as we got to the bottom, the bowling balls hit. At least that’s what it sounded like – hundreds of bowling balls pelting the house.

It couldn’t have lasted more than a minute or two, but it seemed like forever. After it quieted down, I called Mr. S at work (from still in the basement) and asked him what the hell was going on! But he was 60 miles to the east, and had no idea what I was talking about; it was a beautiful day out his window. I gingerly went upstairs, expecting to find destruction. Instead I found a reasonably intact house and HAIL. Golfballs and larger. We lost two (old crappy) windows, some roof vents, the satellite dish, and a windshield (and our nice-looking van that we’d bought six months earlier was now hail-dented for life). The insurance company ended up paying to have our roof reshingled. Luckily our 100-year-old-barnboard siding just laughed at a few hailstones; it had seen much worse in its time. But several counties’ worth of vinyl siding was not so lucky.

Later that day the county plows came through to clear the roads of stripped branches and greenery and hailstones, a mixture that looked oddly like Italian wedding soup. Many of the trees did not recover that year.

Some crazy stories, you guys. shudder