Weathering the storms...

I am waiting for the thunder and lightning that is being predicted for today and tonight, and am really hoping that it will only be a simple thunderstorm. We've been going through a drought of late, but it was relieved just slightly with some rain last week. Two days ago we were also treated to a cloudburst, and we are grateful for it. Of course, with the rain comes the humidity, for which my hair and I are not thankful, but that's another story. Ohio isn't normally known for extreme weather, or so I always thought. Sure, we have our share of tornadoes and the occasional blizzard or drought, but no earthquakes, mudslides or hurricanes. That's a plus, right? Either we've been incredibly lucky, or we're just a mild kind of place.

Anyway, after forty-plus years of it, I've gotten kind of used to it, I suppose. When the hubster and I moved to this town nearly fifteen years ago, we built our home on land that was formerly farm ground. No trees, no grass, three neighboring homes, and only one of those were within spittin' distance. We knew that without a wind break of trees, we'd be exposed to the elements until our landscaping grew in, but I liked the idea of a blank canvas, so to speak; the opportunity to create my own haven in my own time. At first, the elements were fairly kind. We were up high enough to avoid any flooding and with the exception of the traditionally depressing Ohio winter, living where we do was great.
 
Now, I've been rightfully accused of having a very, shall we say, "active" imagination, but I don't think I'm imagining the changes Mother Nature has been bringing us lately. Several years ago was when I first noticed the increase in wind. While not "officially" declared a tornado, the children were safely in the basement while I, like a fool, stood near the french doors, watching our swing set fold up and crumple like aluminum foil. A year after that, we had a large Little Tikes jungle gym that blew apart with the wind. We never did find one of the parts. Last year in April, our small town was hit with a real tornado. It originated near the lake apparently, and traveled for miles before finally dissipating. Since I'm not a "lifer" in this town, I wasn't able to say "back in my day, the weather was..." All I knew was that I hadn't seen anything like this in the time we'd been here and hated seeing our town looking like a war zone. A few places were destroyed, a grocery store was completely wiped out and many other homes, businesses and farms were battered, their contents strewn around for miles. Although frightening, it served at least one purpose: it truly explained to my children WHY we are not allowed to have a trampoline. The words "giant frisbee" were finally driven home. The tornado took a path out toward our place and then turned to miss us completely, though our outdoor items were once again tossed around like popcorn.

Three weeks ago, came a new kind of wind, the likes of which I've never seen or even heard of. It's called a Derecho. The dictionary defines it as a widespread and long-lived windstorm that accompanies fast-moving thunderstorms. That is exactly what it was. My six-year old daughter and I were outside picking up pool toys as the sky was getting dark and rain was predicted. I noticed the sudden cooling of the temperature and the wind increase and turned to face the direction that storms usually come toward us. We both dropped what we had and ran into the house when we noticed the wall of rain heading for us was actually a wall of dirt and debris along with the rain. My son was at a friend's house and the hubster was sleeping since he works third shift, so she and I made for the basement. One problem, the wind was so strong, I couldn't shut the french doors! It blew so hard I shooed my daughter to the basement alone so I could shove with all my might against the door. The wind woke my husband who then joined me in shoving on the door until it finally closed. Then, with the weather alert on my cell phone beeping insanely, we herded the cats to the basement door, grabbed the lanterns and headed underground. The power went out shortly after, and we waited in the basement until it sounded like the wind had abated.

We crept upstairs and, once the rain stopped, we went outside to see the damage the derecho had caused. We lost several pieces of fascia, our only large tree, and several roof shingles. The grill and a wicker chair had done cartwheels across the lawn and were now DOA. The pool now had a quarter-inch of mud in the bottom and dozens of corn leaves from the fields floating on the top. Our pool toys and a rain bucket along with the fascia were found in the field across the road. Mud and debris were splattered all over the front porch- a place typically protected from storms.  Being out in the country, we had no idea what sort of damage the town had suffered. Once my son returned from his friend's house and the hubster went back to bed, the kids and I went into town, naively searching for an open restaurant since without power or the grill, I was unable to cook dinner. We were stunned at the amount of destruction just along the main street area, and realized that by comparison, we again were very lucky. Enormous trees that have been here for many years lay felled on the courthouse lawn and across roofs. Roofing shingles, siding pieces, street signs and tree branches were strewn literally everywhere. Main Street businesses lost awnings, the theater's marquee was blown away and the power outage made everything quiet and dark. Police officers were stationed with road flares at all the intersections where the stoplights no longer functioned. We had no idea the power outage spread across much of the state. It looked like we were going to be in for the long haul. My brothers and sister, all in different towns, lost huge trees and suffered damage to their homes. One brother lost his warehouse, the other his backyard shed. The silence in town was replaced by the sound of chainsaws and heavy equipment, trying to clean up the worst of the mess. I'll admit, for awhile, having no electricity was an adventure; using pool water to flush the toilets and playing board games by candlelight was kind of fun. It wasn't long though and the adventure ended along with our patience. You all know the phrase, "You never know what you've got until it's gone," right? I'm not so obtuse that I'm unaware of how fortunate we are to have electricity and running water, so it quickly became apparent that I am not cut from the pioneer cloth. I don't just want a hot shower and the ability to flush a toilet-- I need it! 

Our knowledge of the storm's severity was limited to what I could glean from the internet on my iPhone. When the battery went low there, we drove around town, charging the phone in the van. We drove aimlessly around for almost three hours since the van was the only place we could escape the oppressive heat and humidity. (On a sidenote, let me tell you something; vans that have built-in DVD players and headphones are truly a gift from God. There's only so much license plate bingo and downed-tree counting that my kids are willing to endure before we all go bonkers.) When it became apparent that the power was going to be off for much longer than just a few hours, the kids and I decided to look for a motel for the night. Evidently, so did everyone else in the area, as there were absolutely no rooms available anywhere close by. I was thisclose to going to a hotel forty miles away just so we could get a hot shower and a meal. What a blessing it was the next night when my husband's folks called from a neighboring town to say their power had been restored. We packed bags and headed there for the night. 

Slowly, very slowly, power started to be restored, a few homes at a time, and fifty-one hours later, our power was back on as well. Several towns near us hadn't even fared that well as their electricity was out for nearly a week. Mountains of food were tossed into dumpsters behind the stores and construction crews were seemingly everywhere, beginning the repairs to homes and businesses. The one good thing that came from all of this was the reminder that we really are all in the same boat. Everyone was affected, and neighbors helped neighbors with everything from picking up branches, to lending out generators, to letting folks use their facilities if they had power before others did. Things could easily have been much worse, but good people have a way of making things much better for themselves and others. I have never been fond of wind, and honestly, when it gets to be more than a breeze now, I get a little nervous. "Derecho" is a new word in my vocabulary, and not one I relish using, but after it's unwelcome appearance a few weeks ago, and what I witnessed in it's aftermath, I know that helping hands will allow us all to weather the storms. I'm still hoping the weatherman is wrong for today, though.