Tornado in New York

There's a whole host of reasons why I have the unnecessary angst when I hear of the slightest weather advisory. I was only ten years of age but old enough to run errands only adults were entrusted to do.

My grandmother was ill and I was tasked to buy the prescribed medicines from a pharmacy out of town, a half hour ride from home. My mother escorted me to the bus stop and left me to the care of the driver who was instructed to drop me off at the drugstore closest to the bus depot at the capital. I didn't have any problem with that.

I took the same bus returning home but it was pouring rain when I got back. Halfway thru the few blocks walk to our house, it thundered then a bolt of lightning struck a few feet in front of me. Lightning snapped and lit the sky like fourth of July. Extremely terrified, I ran for my life in the nearest shelter which is the ice house where they store giant blocks of ice in mounds of rice hulls. The owners took me in. As soon as the storm subsided, they sent for my mother to fetch me.

It was a narrow escape, a terrifying experience which changed my life forever. From then on I would hide inside a rolled up banig - a woven straw sleeping mat, during the thunderstorms in the country. I'd come out of my hiding sweating bullets when the storm was over.

To this day I still pull down the shades to protect me from the lightning when it strikes. With no cellar to escape into, I take refuge in the darkness of my room and pitifully under the covers. I don't know how to break free of this fear. It would make for a challenging case for a head shrink, wouldn't it? Nah, I can handle this myself. After all, this is New York, no nasty storms such as the violent ones that hit the Philippines occur here. I was wrong.

September 16, 2010

I caught a glimpse of the weather report earlier today but none of it really hit me as treacherous. Around 5:00 pm, the skies turned gray and rain started to fall. Halfway thru her drive to Brooklyn, Chong phoned me that lightning just flashed thru the pitch black sky above her. Almost instantly here in Queens we were wrapped in the same dark clouds, strong winds and lightning while hailstones pelted the roof.

I ran upstairs to bring Tita Lumen down and as we walked down the steps strong winds shook the place and blew off the roof hatch cover directly above us. Then I heard a loud roaring sound. Everything unfolded in no time. I looked out into the courtyard. The trees were decimated. My senses told me it was a twister. It's hard to believe, not in New York.

Scary. It's that lightning experience from my childhood all over again but a lot worse! A devastating three or four minutes of the tornado and then it was a sudden calm. The neighbors came out to check on one another and to survey the damage. It was like a war zone. 50-year old trees were uprooted, roof covers and shingles were blown blocks away. Mature trees have landed on cars and buildings.

It was a scene straight out of a disaster movie. Quiet after the storm and desolate as a ghost town. The roads were blocked by fallen trees and debris. In a matter of minutes, sirens were going as private citizens helped to direct the rush hour traffic as drivers inched their way home, weaving in and out of road blocks. It was a miracle that only one person died and no one else injured.

We will soon learn that two tornadoes and a macroburst tore a 14-mile long path of destruction in Staten Island, Brooklyn and Queens. At 125 mph the wind gust we experienced was mild compared to what the folks in the Midwest had to endure during these violent tornadoes.

For days after I drafted this post sounds of chain saws and wood chippers filled the air. All over the neighborhood homeowners spent countless hours hammering and nailing stripped sidings, replacing roof covers, grinding stumps and rebuilding.

Even the birds were confused. They've lost their trees. I found many of them perched in bushes and on fallen tree limbs some maybe hoping to find their nests and their birdlings.

It was disheartening. And the fear is still there.
But we're all safe. The damages will be fixed and the trees will be replaced.

Bird songs at dawn, I'll soon hear them.