I had debated on watching the documentary at all, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth avoiding (since it won’t be avoidable over the long holiday back in my hometown).Â
So, I watched.
I cried. And afterwards reflected on my experience that afternoon, 15 years ago.Â
I was at work, taking care of two little old ladies with i/dd-I was in the middle of introducing them to Harrison Ford via Air Force One since it always tickled me when they’d openly thirst for actors on screen (“he’s so dreamy, hon”). When the sirens sounded, I escorted them to the bathroom and helped them in the tub to wait out the warning as usual. Obviously, that warning differed from any of the others I had experienced up to that point when I saw the power flashes live on the local news, but I knew I had to stay calm to keep the two ladies safe. I grabbed their favorite things that would fit in the tub and wedged myself between the toilet and the tub.Â
Luckily, we were in a part of town that experienced minimal damage, but it also meant that their home became a triage center for other individuals with i/dd who weren’t so lucky. I spent a few hours giving showers and picking glass out of people’s hair, listening to them talk about how scared they were that their homes were destroyed, and how scary it was being caught at the restaurant when the glass blew out. All the while, wondering to myself if my dog and if my house were okay. And then the notifications started coming in about people I knew not making it. I still had to keep it together though, since I now had six ladies to keep it together for.Â
I was supposed to be working a double, which meant that I’d sleep on the ladies’ couch and be available in the event of emergencies but with the few extra people now needing a place to sleep, I spent the night on their porch in their glider with a window into the living room open so I could hear inside. The sounds of fire and ambulance sirens kept me company most of the night since I had given up on listening to the radio reports about how much of the town had been destroyed. Anytime I hear those responder sirens all these years later, I can’t help but think about that night I spent rocking in the glider, wondering about my dog and house.
When I got to leave work the next morning, I found my dog okay and eagerly awaiting her morning meal. However, I had some roof damage which created a new waterfall feature in my bathroom (lucky me; it was going straight into the tub). Over the next few days, in between helping a few friends clean up debris and attending funeral after funeral, I tried to get ahold of my landlord to fix the slight leak. It turned out he had skipped town after two of his rental properties got destroyed that night. He didn’t have any insurance and had taken out some personal loans to buy his properties. In the end, I had to move since the people he took the loans from didn’t want to be in the property management game. Since rental prices skyrocketed overnight, I could no longer afford to rent in the town I had called home.Â
I’m able to look back on it now without too many issues and find the situation with that landlord deeply hilarious now. It helps that taking care of people gives me a sense of purpose, which helps me get through any tough situation that comes my way (that and a wicked sense of humor), including a few more tornadoes that I’ve had the pleasure of being in.Â
By the way, Harrison Ford is absolutely dreamy in Air Force One.Â
