LITMIR.BIZ

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I'm a logistics person, and when May 22nd came around, we were prepared with a game plan. It was going to be a long day of hard work, but I'd choreographed the day beautifully, and we were READY for the day.

      As it was to be a long day, we rented our moving truck early.

      Sweaty, covered in water and dirt, hauling decking at Menards. #HomeOwnership #DamnItFeelsGoodToBeAGangster #YesISaidSterNotSta - Twitter, Sun May 22 15:40:53 UTC

      We first picked up the lumber, then headed to the city impound lot, for a tree - something we had been looking forward to for a few months. The city had a "tree trust" program, where residents could purchase a tree of their choice for just $25. We'd chosen to pick up a Honey Crisp apple tree, and were looking forward to the addition to our backyard. A walnut tree AND an apple tree! Think of the possibilities!

      The next stop was to visit our former home, to move the remaining items from the garage and shed. As one of the items was a large, heavy commercial Hobart mixer, the moving truck would come in handy.

      It was miserable work that morning. It was hot and humid in the morning, which had made pulling the lumber order a sweaty and arduous task. By the time we got to the impound lot for our new tree, the sky had darkened and was starting to drizzle. We picked a 10' tall apple tree that was in full bloom, and scrambled back into the truck to avoid the weather.

      As we arrived at our former home, the sky had opened up completely, and was pouring rain. We trudged through the mud and water puddles to collect the last few pieces of yard equipment, our grill, and garden tools.

      Soaked to the bone, we dropped my mixer off at my father in law's house, where we would have to store in until we could find a buyer. After chatting a while, we headed home, to unload the tree, the lumber, and the last of the items from our former house.

      Back in the moving van, heading towards the rental agency, we patted ourselves on the back for a good job done. We had busted our asses, and managed to finish the entire list of tasks early! Exhausted but happy, we decided to grab some lunch, and then spend the rest of the day alternating between watching movies and soaking in the Jacuzzi. Not only did our sore muscles need the rest and soaking, we figured we'd earned the rest of the day to relax. With all of the moving, unpacking, and renovating leading up to that day, the idea of an afternoon off was deliciously indulgent.

      We returned the truck, and went to a nearby Arby's for lunch. It felt good to get off our feet, it was such a relief to be done for the day, and we happily discussed movie options for the afternoon.

      It was raining pretty hard by then, so we talked about opening the curtain above the Jacuzzi, laying back and watching the rain through the skylight above. Maybe there'd be lightning to watch... oh, it all sounded so relaxing and blissful.

      ... and then the sirens went off.

      Running in to Hell

      From that initial "air raid siren" incident, I never did acclimatize to the whole idea of tornadoes, or weather sirens. Rather than getting better over time, things had managed to get worse. On two occasions in the weeks leading up to May 22, we'd been out driving when tornado sirens went off. Rather than "We've never seen one", or "Nothing has happened!", my mind processed it as "we're going to get it, sooner or later", and every false alarm was just hurling us closer to ... whatever vague idea I had about what it would be like to encounter a tornado. I was terrified.

      The anxiety I'd started developing about tornadoes had reached a point where I could NOT handle being away from the house, out in the open, with sirens going off. We packed up the remains of our meal and headed home, where I would feel safe.

      It had gone almost black outside at that point, despite being the early afternoon. The rain was sheeting down like I'd never seen before - not in that tropical storm in New Orleans, not in several years living on the east coast. Visibility was pretty much zero.

      We had only driven a block or two when my phone rang. The rain was so loud, I could barely make out what the caller was saying. It took a few tries before I finally made it out - she was calling from the alarm company, our system was reporting that there was a fire in our basement.

      A fire. Something I've never had to deal with. My mind raced - the cats. I didn't even consider property damage, I was so focused on getting the cats out safely. We didn't yet know our neighbors, and no one had a key to our house. The fire department had been called, and we raced to get home.

      While my husband took some small degree of comfort in "It's a basement fire, we should have a half hour buffer to save them!", I tried to calm and distract myself by posting a few quick blurbs to my twitter account.

      Omg!!! Trying to get home through this monster storm, just got a call that our fire alarm is going off! SO SCARED for the cats. - Twitter, Sun May 22 19:21:36 UTC

      I've never had to deal with a fire. I am freaking out from the tornado sirens, everyone is driving like an idiot and I am scared for cats - Twitter, Sun May 22 19:30:52 UTC

      The weather was not helping. The rain had somehow managed to get worse, the roads were flooding, and everyone was driving like maniacs. Looking back, maybe they'd received similar calls? I couldn't even think straight, all we knew was that we had to get home fast. What would normally be a 20 minute drive home felt like an eternity.

      I called the alarm company back almost as soon as I'd hung up. In our hysteria, we'd forgotten to mention that we have a keyless door, and could provide the code. The operator would relay the information to the fire department.

      Within a few minutes, they called back with some horrifying information - the roads were impassable, the fire department would not be coming, we were on our own.

      I still have no idea how we made it home safely. We weren't driving safely, and the conversation we were having.. No one should ever have to have that conversation. It was a mix of steeling ourselves for what we would be coming home to, formulating a plan to get the cats out, and trying to figure out what items, if any, we'd need to save in order to rebuild our lives. We had no idea how bad the fire was, what we'd be coming home to. I'd certainly never been in a position to run into a burning building for ANY reason, much less to find 4 animals that were likely VERY scared, who were good at hiding.

      About a mile from our house, we were stopped by a roadblock. We turned north, and encountered a tree across the road. We turned down another street, and there was another tree in the way. It was all very surreal. Loads of HUGE trees, uprooted like they were mere weeds. I was hyperventilating, Porter was trying to calm me down, and it seemed like a nightmare. I've never been so scared and upset in my life. Every new street we tried to turn down, there were massive trees blocking the road. I've never seen anything like it in my life.

      After navigating the new maze for what seemed like hours, we managed to get about 3 blocks from our home. We got out, and sprinted in the general direction of our house, completely disoriented by the chaos around us.

      Trees everywhere.

      A roof on the street. Garages smashed in, people everywhere, being careful to avoid the masses of downed power lines. All we could think of was our cats, and the fire that had been reported. I've never been so scared in my life.

      Between leaving the car and arriving at the house, the memories are fuzzy. Both Porter and I agree that we came out of the back alley across from our house, cutting through someone's yard - but neither one of us remember actually entering the alley, or any part or running through the alley. SO bizarre, how we're both missing the same few minutes of memory - I wonder if we'll ever get them back? I remember running through that yard, and past the people who lived there, who were visibly stunned at everything around us. I remember apologizing for cutting through their yard, which - in hindsight - must have seemed completely ridiculous.

      The Obstacle Course to Get Home

      When we finally got to the house, there was no immediate evidence of a fire. As Porter ran to the basement to check for a fire, I started to search for the

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