Storm Clouds Brewin'

Storm Clouds Brewin'

"It was a dark and stormy night..."
When I hear that phrase, I always think of Charles Schulz's Snoopy sitting atop his doghouse tapping the keys of a tiny typewriter in the first frame of the "Peanuts" comic strip. This particular spring night, it was my town in storm-warning mode. The weatherman had predicted tornadic activity, so my plan was to hide in my small office by the staircase with my pillow, a quilt, flashlight, cell phone, and a small pouch of my valuable jewelry along with some important papers stashed in my purse. Did I actually think I would come through a tornado intact? Yes, prayerfully so.

Earlier, before nightfall and before the weather turned, I had stood at my kitchen window peeling a juicy tomato, making a light supper while keeping one eye on the clouds gathering in the dusky sky. Georgia is in a drought situation, so for a year everyone's been wishing, hoping and praying for rain, scanning every dark cloud for possible moisture. After enjoying my fresh tomato sandwich and chips for supper, I read the newspaper and planned to settle in for the evening to start my good library book, possibly accompanied by a good soaking rain through the night.

But now, I was all ears, listening to the wind howl and the hail dance outside my door. The town siren wailed from court square, signaling the sighting of a funnel cloud. Quicker than a thunderclap, I found myself closed inside the cramped office space, just big enough for a desk, computer, file cabinet, and small TV set tuned to the Weather Channel. About the time the siren shushed, all became quiet outside. Honestly, I was waiting for the roar of a freight train because that's what I'd always heard people say a tornado sounds like. Without warning, a crash occurred inside my house, and I almost jumped out of my skin, prepared to see Jesus Himself the next instant. Just the crashing noise then silence -- nothing else. Realizing that no tornado had hit and no ceiling had fallen in above me, I eased open the door of the little room. Now, there was just the sound of rain pelting my windows. The TV weather forecaster announced that the path of the twister had passed on over my county. Breathing a sigh of relief, I still wondered what in the world had made that crashing sound. Not until later did I discover the anticlimactic reason: the top half of a glass window to my sun porch had fallen to the bottom, maybe jarred loose by the wind, who knows. Sure jangled my nerves, though! The next day, there were reports of wind damage, trees downed, and pictures in the local newspaper of one house heavily damaged by the tornado. It had touched down further out in the county instead of inside the city limits where I live.

In my mind's eye, I see Snoopy tippy-tapping away on that little typewriter, beginning his great novel. In the next frame, I see myself seeking sanctuary beneath my desk and quilt, praying and hanging on to that pillow for dear life. The seven little words,"It was a dark and stormy night..." will definitely have a more personal meaning from here on out. Of that, I am certain.

Story ID:	4006
Written by:	Susan Hammett Poole (bio, contact, other stories)
Location:	LaGrange GA USA
Year:	2008
Person:	myself