Slice of Life - 1974 Tornado

I loved participating in the March SOLSC.  I'm so glad we have Tuesday Slice of Life all year!  I have a few more memories I'd like to write about before I focus on other things.

Cincinnati Enquirer Remembers

  

Cincinnati

Lebanon, OH

Lebanon, OH

Mason Church of Christ

Mason, OH (Sherman Terrace neighborhood)

Lebanon, OH

Mason, OH

Xenia High School

Xenia, OH

Xenia, OH

Pisgah, OH

Xenia, OH

     It is hard to believe 40 years have passed since the April 3rd, 1974 tornadoes struck southwest Ohio and many other areas of the Midwest and Southern states.  My mother and I were talking about it on the phone a couple weeks ago when we were discussing my March memory slices.  I knew I wanted to write a slice about it, and since the anniversary was just last week, now seemed like the perfect time.

     When reading about it and watching videos in preparation for this slice, I realized one of the devastating aspects of the storm was that no one realized it was going to hit.  Weather radar was not nearly as sophisticated as it is now, and weathermen couldn't predict the magnitude of what came to pass.  In fact, they learned a lot from the 1974 tornadoes that they used for improvement of weather warning systems.  

     I was seven years old at the time, and I have sketchy memories of the event.  The tornadoes hit in the late afternoon/evening, so mom and I were at home.  At that time, we had a large bay window in our kitchen eating area that overlooked our back acreage (it was later remodeled into double doors leading out to a deck).  It was a beautiful view.  We had a backyard festooned with maples, oaks, and evergreens.  A bird feeder marked the middle of the yard, complete with cardinals, blue jays, chickadees, woodpeckers, and finches.  In April the yard would have displayed its full glory - lime green leaves emerging, grass beginning to get long and fragrant, dandelions popping up, and forsythia bushes blooming.  That day, however, dark and ominous clouds were roiling in the sky, wind whipped up a furious cacophony of branches clanging, and not a bird was in sight.  In my memory, I saw two twisters in the distance out that window.  Mom doesn't remember that, but she does remember watching in fascination before realizing that she needed to get us, the dogs, and cats down to the basement immediately.  I was almost disappointed when we had to leave that Wizard of Oz view to descend into the depths of the house.  I did start to get worried about the animals.
     Meanwhile, my dad was driving home from Cincinnati.  Unbeknownst to us, he was outrunning tornadoes, debris whipping up and hitting his windshield as he sped through the streets.  He stopped at our friends' house, the Shortens, to make sure they were okay.  Later, they recalled hearing a train-like sound that evening when the tornado raced through Mason.  He continued home to us; Mom remembers him acting like he was in shock, numbed and shaken by the experience of driving through this horrific moment in history.
    The tornadoes in Mason mostly hit toward town.  We were spared any major damage out on Brewer Road.  I am mostly unscathed by the memory and am not particularly scared of storms today.  However, I do remember the terrible devastation around our area afterward, feeling awful and sad at all the homes, churches, schools, and neighborhoods that were scarred.  My heart went out to friends and neighboring communities who were affected terribly.  There is a lot to be said, though, about the human spirit in disasters like the tornadoes of 1974.  People rebuild and give their time to others, families re- inhabit their neighborhoods, and communities salvage their churches, businesses, and schools.  1974 is but a distant memory in our thriving community now.  I pray nothing like that ever happens again.