A Tornado Wake-Up Call

Allegiance Insurance
Jun 5, 2024
3 min read

From Underestimation to Boss Auntie or:

How I learned to start worrying about tornadoes and love Emergency Preparedness

Living in Oklahoma my whole life, I, like many residents, became accustomed to the routine of tornado warnings. They often felt like background noise, rarely translating into actual danger. That nonchalance, inherited from my own mother, nearly bit me (and my neighbors) in the you-know-what last week.

My story starts in the familiar setting of my childhood neighborhood. Here, houses hold memories and faces belong to families I've known forever. Luckily, my mom lives next door, and even luckier, my grandma was visiting her when the storm happened.

While I wasn't particularly close to everyone in the neighborhood anymore, a recent development changed that. Several neighbors reached out, inquiring about my storm cellar – one of the few readily accessible ones in the vicinity during emergencies.

Fast forward: I'm helping my mom usher grandma into a closet (yes, a closet!), a scene that initially felt like an overreaction. But hey, being a good daughter comes first, so I didn't argue. Looking back, this should have been my first signal that I was on the verge of a tornado wake-up call.

Then came the texts and calls. My sister, panicked and unsure what to do. My mom, stern yet sensible, instructed us to seek refuge in the cellar. Despite owning the haven, a rebellious part of me wanted to dismiss it. Thankfully, mom's voice of reason prevailed – keeping the kids safe was paramount.

Suddenly, the doorbell's frantic trill shattered the growing tension. It was a neighbor seeking shelter, followed by others. An overwhelming mix of emotions – irritation (at the chaotic situation, not individuals), concern (for everyone's safety), and a burgeoning sense of responsibility – washed over me.

As my sister arrived with her daughters, a realization struck: this was serious. My mom, ever-supportive, offered a pep talk before they joined us. Hurriedly, we grabbed raincoats, water, and my precious pups (a small dog and a hefty poodle-heeler mix), and met everyone in the backyard.

Boss Auntie Emerges

Looking back, my previous perception of "preparedness" was laughable. But hey, cut me some slack – in an emergency, "Boss Macy" emerges, strong and focused.

With eight people and three dogs crammed into my cellar, the air crackled with tension. Realizing I had to take charge, I sprung into action. Folding chairs were retrieved from their trash-bag entombment (spiders, anyone?), creating a haven for my sister and her kids. I then focused on the two nervous young men (on their phones for constant live updates) with that special "sweet but stern auntie" touch, and tasked them with relaying crucial updates without scaring the kids. The middle-aged couple, exuding zen-like calm, settled into a corner, seeming happy that they have out-grown the parental leadership role for these kinds of situations. (They basically co-raised me and all the other neighborhood kids, so now they deserve to sit back and let me take care of everyone.)

Recognizing the fear in the children's eyes, I opted for a different approach while addressing them. I spun the ordeal into a future "cool story to tell," successfully calming their nerves.

False Hope (and Second Round) A Tornado Wake-up Call

Finally, the all-clear! Relief washed over us as we emerged from the damp cellar. My sister and I took the girls to check on mom and grandma, who were thankfully unscathed.

Just when I thought the excitement was over, the familiar sound of hail escalated, prompting the young neighbor to suggest a cellar re-entry. Radar confirmed his suspicions, and even though I really just wanted to crawl in bed and go to sleep before ten, "Boss Auntie" mode kicked right back into gear.

This second stint was far worse. The girls were scared and exhausted. The stifling humidity made breathing difficult. But amidst the discomfort, a plan for "next time" began to form in my head.

Lesson Learned (Finally!)

Mother Nature had delivered a powerful message, loud and clear. A tornado, just a mile away from my house, served as a harsh reminder to take warnings seriously. From now on, underestimation is out, and preparedness is in.