LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      We were so scared for them. We were calling for them, and there was no response from any of them. We have incredibly vocal cats, they respond to their names... hell, most of them even come when called.

      After a quick search through the house, we started a second, more detailed pass. We looked everywhere, pulling debris and unpacked boxes aside. Porter started to look for blood, I was trying to figure out if they could have gotten out.

      While there had been no fire, we was plenty of other damage. There were trees sticking in our 2nd floor bedroom wall, we had to duck under a toppled tree to get in our front door… another of the trees in the front yard was leaning on our neighbor's house, ripped right out of the ground.

      It was impossible to get to our back yard. Both sides of our yard were completely impassible, having been filled more than waist deep random debris, just packed in there - trees, fencing, roofing, part of someone's deck... the railings from the neighbor's upper deck ...

      Reaching the back yard through the house wasn't any better. The small porch just outside of the kitchen had been smashed in, with broken glass and branches everywhere.

      Our black walnut tree had broken off - so I thought - and had smashed in our deck, and was leaning against our house. It wouldn't be til days later that I'd find out that the tree - over 100 years old - had actually been ripped from the ground, landed on one part of our roof (smashing it in), and BOUNCED off to land on another section. I can't even imagine...

      I remember looking out over all that destruction, how impassable it all was, and thinking that if the cats had gotten out of the house, we would NEVER be able to find them.

      It took an hour or so, but we did eventually find all of the cats.

      We had NO idea what to do, so we were putting them in the bathroom as we found them. The scope and gravity of the situation hadn't even begun to process.

      We found Jame - "The Princess" in the front entryway, crammed between the side of the couch, and a wall. I set her up with food and cat litter in the bathroom, and then just lost it. I'd done a once-over of the house, and just couldn't handle it. I sat on the front steps and just... screamed. Completely useless, completely inconsolable. I started learning right then - though it wasn't something I'd ever considered before, Aspergers and tornadoes just do NOT mix.

      My husband was more functional than I was at the moment, and continued to look for the cats while I had my meltdown. Somehow, Tweak - "The Fatass" - had managed to cram himself under the couch. I have no idea how he managed it. This is a BIG cat, and there is not much clearance under that couch - he must have just dove under there.

      Some time after Tweak was safely sequestered in the bathroom, Rat - "The Ninja" came strolling out from nowhere, all nonchalant. Very "Hey dad, what's up?". Into the bathroom with her, as we tried to find Turbo - "The Baby". Turbo was only about 6 months old, and it wasn't looking good. We combed over areas we'd already searched, and finally found her under my office desk, hidden behind all of the moving boxes that ended up in and around the desk.

      With the cats - all shaken up, but otherwise ok and uninjured - safely in the bathroom, we finally surveyed the damage. It's so weird how we could be searching the house for the cats, but not actually process what had happened around us. Not fully.

      I had been vaguely aware of water in the kitchen while searching, but it hadn't stuck out as a glaring abnormality. With the cats safely sequestered... wow. The kitchen ceiling had been smashed in, water was pouring in, and the kitchen floor was sort of caving in, in the middle. There was water everywhere. We hadn't done the dishes before leaving that morning, and there was a cookie sheet of baked goods sitting on the stove... ALL sopping wet now.

      Looking out to the backyard... it just looked like a land fill. The yard had just been filled up with crap from everywhere, along with our tree. Trees, roof materials... a lot of random crap. Plant matter was plastered against the house like it had been sprayed on as a finishing texture.

      Upstairs, there was a crack along the walls/ceiling seam, all along the south end of the house. The tornado had ripped the roof up and dropped it back down.

      The patio door had been completely smashed in, its glass scattered all across our brand new carpet. The mini deck was full of tree branches and random debris.

      To the left of the patio door - right at the top of the stairs - a tree had pierced the wall. It had entered in a downward trajectory, coming to rest in the cat litter box. That it landed in the litter box like that? It made a hilarious photograph, and it likely saved our hardwood floor up there... but at the time, it was a scary sight. No one should ever have to see a tree - probably 5" in diameter! - sticking in their wall like that. I hope the cats were nowhere near their litter box when it happened!

      Cats are all ok. The house is not. There is a tree in our bedroom. Likely a write off. Our new house. Devastation is incomprehensible - Twitter, Sun May 22 22:02:31 UTC

      We were suddenly aware of how weird everything felt - not even so much the visuals, but the complete lack of noise. There were no birds chirping. Without electricity, neither our air conditioner - nor anyone else's- was running. All of the minute "noise pollution" that we never even notice was just non existent. My husband likened it to being at a loud nightclub with music, having it all get shut off instantly, and everyone just quiet in shock. On top of that, it had gotten very humid.

      I felt like the walls - and all this destruction - were closing in on me. Suddenly, our "oasis" felt very claustrophobic. I had to get out. I went back out to the front steps for some fresh air, and finally got a clear look at my surroundings

      Outside, I realized that I was crying and shaking. I thought I was going to have a total nervous breakdown. I looked out over my street, and it was just… surreal. It was like something out of a disaster movie, but so much worse. Our street had been completely canopied by many VERY old trees, they were now almost all flattened. Ripped out of the ground, roots and all, like they were NOTHING.

      Picture that for a moment. Completely open sky. Not only did many houses get their roofs damaged / torn off, the whole neighborhood lost its "roof".

      I noticed that my beloved car was hidden under a large tree that had landed on it... and it was far from alone in that sense. Every car on the street - and probably for blocks around - were destroyed. A car across the street had a large section of tree sticking out of its windshield, many were just flattened.

      There were trees in the streets, trees blocking the sidewalks, and trees laying on top of houses. 3 houses down, one tree had landed on another, inverted. Truly bizarre sight! There were power lines everywhere, garages flattened - at least one garage was just no longer there. Just gone! There were distraught people were EVERYWHERE, wandering around in shock. No one knew what to do.

      At this point, "fight or flight" was starting to kick in. Unfortunately, it manifested as "flight" for me, and "fight" for my husband.

      I just wanted to get the hell out of there, get away from the chaos, and be able to think. I couldn't THINK with all of this destruction around me. I'd never been exposed to such a disaster before, I had NO experience to draw on - not even tangentially, from knowing anyone who'd gone through it - and it all seemed so... catastrophic. There were so many issues to consider, and so many things that would need to be dealt with right away - I couldn't even wrap my head around it. I'm a planner. With decent conditions, I can think/plan my way around anything, and I was confident that a temporary change of venue would be the best for us.

      My husband, on the other hand, had other ideas.

      Porter described it as him being more like a horse. A horse will apparently run back into a burning barn, seeing it as its "safe place", even when surrounded by imminent danger like that. The house was my husband's "comfort area", and where he wanted to be. He's a "fixer", and wanted to start cleaning up and getting back to normal.

      Security was also a concern in his mind. Any area devastated by a natural disaster is a prime target for looting. Even before news channels were reporting looting in the area, he was feeling the "stay and protect my house" urge.

      Looting and protection

Скачать книгу