Читать книгу Twisted: A Minneapolis Tornado Memoir - Marie Boone's Porter - Страница 5

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 cats.

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 of our stuff was the furthest thing from my mind, as I was more fixated on basic needs. We obviously would not be staying in our house that night, nor for a long time to come. Hell, I didn't even know if the house was safe to BE in, much less live in!

We needed to get the cats situated somewhere, we needed a game plan. We needed to figure out where we would be retiring that evening, when all was said and done.

As reasonable as both sides sound on paper, we didn't handle it reasonably. We stood in our livingroom, making vaguely coherent arguments while screaming, crying. I was in hysterics. He was mad that I wanted to leave. I had "my" two cats in a very small carrier, and was threatening to get in the car and drive all the way to Canada, not looking back. He was trying to grab the cat carrier from me, blocking the door... it was the ugliest fight we've ever had. I couldn't believe that he was being so stubborn and unreasonable. It all felt like the end of the world.

Somehow, between threats and screaming, we finally managed to come to a compromise - we'd take the cats to his father's house, briefly regroup, and then return to start cleaning up.

The first logistical decision to be made was HOW to get the cats out. We had one small cat carrier that would hold two cats relatively comfortably, or we could *stuff* all four in. After some debate, we decided to take two, let them loose in the car, and return to the house for the other two. After calling and leaving a message for our insurance company, we were good to go.

As we left the house, we did arm the alarm - having it run on battery power. We had no idea how long the battery would last, but felt better knowing that it was still working.

We carried the cats for the three blocks back to the car, much more keenly aware of our surroundings this time around. There were a LOT of downed power lines and other hazards everywhere, and even just carrying the two cats in that carrier was proving difficult. One of us would climb over a downed tree, the other would pass the carrier over, and then follow in climbing over.

By the time we go back to the car, we decided against going back for the other two right away. We would head to my father in law's house, get the first two cats situated, and then return.

As my husband drove, I was finally able to plug in my now-dead phone, and catch up on twitter. I was worried about having freaked people out with my last tweet, unable to update on the situation at all.

My feed was flooded with inquiries, offers of help, and well wishing. My user name, Celebr8nGenr8n had become a trending topic in the time that had passed since my earlier tweet.

As my husband drove, I read off the replies we'd received, trying to calm down so I could get to a place where I could think straight. There were too many comments to reply to, too many questions to answer, I was so overwhelmed. I made a bit of a joke, but it didn't do much to help my mood - I just went right back to the mental images of what we were driving away from.

We had JUST finished the bedroom. Oh God. I can't even.. everything is destroyed. It looks like something out of a movie... surreal.- Twitter, Sun May 22 22:10:03 UTC 2011

By the time we were halfway to my father in law's house, I managed to snap out of it a bit, enough to be moderately functional. The main concern for me was figuring out where we'd be staying that night. With four cats, finding a hotel that would take us would be tricky. As we drove, I made some calls... turning up empty-handed.

We arrived at Ray's house, and got the cats situated in a bedroom. The news was on, and every channel was reporting the tornado damage. We watched the coverage and discussed options, while I tried to keep up on the news and information coming to me from my followers on Twitter.

At father on laws house now, trying to regroup and figure out what the hell to do now. Completely losing my shit.- Twitter, Sun May 22 22:29:02 UTC 2011

Upside: I'll bet this puts an end to my husband joking about my tornadoes. Not a phobia if one destroys your house. More like intuition. - Twitter, Sun May 22 22:32:27 UTC 2011

So many beautiful old trees completely lost. Our gorgeous, super old black walnut that I was so excited for is lost. Trees everywhere. - Twitter, Sun May 22 22:35:37 UTC 2011

Our house was just shown on channel 5. Oh my God. This is insane. That white car under a tree? That's mine. Surreal. - Twitter, Sun May 22 22:37:24 UTC 2011

Less than half an hour after arriving at Ray's house, we were back on the road. We would get to the house, I would take the other two cats to my Ray's house, leaving my husband at the house to start cleanup. Once the remaining cats were situated, I would return, help with cleanup, and we would stay at Ray's place that night. With rum. We would need a LOT of rum to deal with this.

That was the plan, anyway.

There is not enough booze in the world, to deal with seeing a tree in your bedroom. Heading back now to start on clean up. - Twitter, Sun May 22 22:55:29 UTC 2011

Trying to get to house now. Many roads impassable. This is insane. Looks like a war zone. - Twitter, Sun May 22 23:15:50 UTC 2011

We would be there for two and a half hours that evening.

Our Street

Neighbors surveying the damage

So many trees lost

Surreal

My car. Never did figure out whose yard the tree came from!

Side of our yard and the porch

Our Deck

Brand new apple tree, in front of 100+ year old walnut tree

I... was not thinking right. I look back at my actions that day, and I can't explain how I was thinking. When we arrived back at the house, I noticed these bottled Sobe drinks we'd picked up on sale, still in the paper grocery bags. Very wet grocery bags, with broken glass everywhere. For some reason - with my roof destroyed, my car under a tree, no electricity, no idea if our house was a goner...- I was stuck by the "waste" of this... oh, probably $30... in drinks. That were bottled. That would be fine if we moved them, these drinks that didn't require refrigeration or anything.

So, to not "waste" them, I picked them out of the wet bags and broken glass, loaded them into a big blue IKEA bag and walked up and down my street, handing them to neighbors. I think, for some reason, I thought that they'd end up having to be thrown out if not consumed RIGHT THEN AND THERE. I still can't wrap my head around whatever logic I thought I was following at that point. We had a fridge/freezer full of hundreds of dollars of meats and fish that I could have been freaking out about at the time, but instead, I was hyper focused on these stupid drinks.

Looking back, I wish I'd thought to offer up our freezer contents to friends. Later on, when it came time to empty our freezer... it was painful to throw everything out. Ugh. On the upside, as I was handing out those drinks, I'm sure it helped someone. Knowing how fried my own thought processes were that day, I bet that hydration wasn't at the top of anyone's list of priorities.

Shortly after we arrived back at our house, our friends Heather and Mark showed up, along with their son. They had brought granola bars, dried mangoes, and bottles of water with them, knowing that we probably weren't even thinking of food and drink. They were right.

Heather and I sat out on the front steps, her providing an ear, while I alternated between tearing ranting and stunned silence. Heather's son is autistic, so she had a pretty good idea of what we were going through at this point. At some point, the eerie silence had erupted into cacophony, with chain saws all around, shouting, and a swarm of helicopters in the sky. It was all a LOT to deal with - it would have been a lot for anyone to deal with, really... but several trips through the war zone had already left me extremely overstimulated. Between that, all of the "change" all around us, the noise... it was a perfect storm brewing, ripe for the mother of all Aspergers meltdowns. She was so patient, kind, and understanding... and it really helped me keep things in check.

Every once in a while, we were interrupted by various men in suits... looking to sell us remodeling services. The number of times this happened that first afternoon was actually stunning. With all of the reports of impassable roads, police roadblocks set up - truly, we weren't even sure that Heather and Mark would be able to make it through the roadblocks, even with very specific people to come help - we were blown away that so many salespeople were streaming through.

After the first few instances, my Irish Canadian temper started taking over. We hadn't even been given a chance to process what happened, what was still happening, and what we needed to do - and here were these smarmy salespeople, infringing on our space. It just didn't sit well with me.

After I'd truly had enough with "The Vultures" - as we'd come to term them - I started taking a much more direct approach. When one salesperson started up my walk ...

Him: "Good afternoon! Are you the homeowner?"

Me: "If you're here to sell me something, I will punch you right in the face."

Him: "Uh... never mind, good bye!"

As soon as the salesman left, Mark turned to me and said "That is the LEAST Minnesotan thing I've ever seen in my life!". I had to laugh.

With Mark's help, we arranged to hire someone to put up some secure tarp on our wide open roof. I packed a suitcase - mostly clothes and alcohol! - to get us through a few days, and we finally decided to call it a night. With no electricity, our ability to do much of anything was becoming severely limited by the setting of the sun.

As we walked towards the car, we saw a sight we just weren't prepared for. A vehicle pulled up into a tight intersection, and a bunch of people got out, carrying massive amounts of lawn signs under their arms. It was like... a clown car. These people proceeded to start putting up their remodeling business signs on any little bit of available land, just littering the place.

Let me try and explain the scene a bit better.

The roads were such that - for the streets you could actually get down at all - the pathways for vehicles were very narrow. There were trees and random debris everywhere. Even the main cross streets were like this, most of them impassable... and this company had just pulled up and parked, without any consideration for anyone that may be coming through with a more honorable, entitled, or urgent purpose. The size of even one car was *significant*, given the obstruction in the roads.

So then, rather than getting out en masse and offering to help people, these vultures were swarming the area with dollar signs in their eyes. Rather than pick up debris, or even ask home owners if they'd like a sign in whatever tiny piece of their yard that may have been visible under all of that rubble, they just spread those signs like they were marking their territory. Such disregard for the devastation around them. We saw RED.

As we approached our car, my husband kicked a sign, and just sent it flying. As he later explained:

"I tried to kick very hard- to really make a point. I am no jock, so I really gave it all I had, in an attempt to send it flying. The shape of the sign meant that it was quite stable, like a paper airplane. Even my non-athletic kick really sent it flying away. My foot was left aching, as the bottom of the sign where I kicked was rather thin Refusing to acknowledge the pain, I walked on as if it was no problem at all"

Again, I just can't even begin to describe how pissed off we were, that these people were doing this just hours after the tornado. Who thinks like that? Who looks at this sort of disaster on TV, and gets all excited about the profits they can make? Who rounds up as many people as they can, on a Sunday afternoon, to just litter the neighborhood with advertising?

Similarly, I can't even express how shocked we were when one of the company reps ran up to my husband and told him off for kicking the sign. I just can't even imagine how bereft of basic humanity a person would have to be to not only engage in that profiteering behavior in the first place, but to also have the lack of integrity to go up to a victim of the disaster and tell them off like that?

I lost it.

As this pathetic creature wagged his finger at my husband, I screeched at him. I'm sure that the entire neighborhood heard me shriek "We just lost our HOUSE, you vultures!" at him - perhaps not my proudest moment, but... really.

Alpha Exteriors ... you should be ashamed of yourselves. You are the lowest form of humanity.

If your business is that desperate for income that you would conduct yourself in such a skeezy, disgusting manner as to descend upon the area THAT quickly, with that many people... you could have done it a LOT more honorably. Why not dress all of those people in company branded t shirts and send them in to help clear debris? I'm sure that more than a few people would have appreciated it, and asked for business cards.

That is how decent people would do it, anyway. Instead, you're forever immortalized in our photos, arm loads of signs in tow... a loathsome pack of weasels, completely lacking souls.

Leaving for tonight. If some salesperson gets the tar beaten out of them tomorrow, and a 'violent' immigrant deported as a result, well... - Twitter Mon May 23 01:59:54 UTC 2011

Just a few hours after the tornado

Thoroughly exhausted, we headed towards Ray's house. It's only about 25 minutes away - under normal circumstances - but between the debris, randomly parked cars, other hazards, and the degree to which we were worn out... it felt like forever. We realized that - although it was getting quite late - we hadn't really eaten since right before the tornado. While the dried mango and other goodies were much appreciated, we just hadn't been in the mood to eat while Heather and Mark were there, and we were now regretting that.

Additionally, we realized that I'd managed to forget to pack our toothbrushes and toothpaste. Yes, I packed the rum, and forgot toothbrushes. Awesome.

After a quick stop at a pharmacy for the toiletries, we decided to pick up something to eat at White Castle. I tell ya... "Harold and Kumar"'s journey to White Castle had *nothing* on us that night. I can only imagine how we looked to the other people there. Dirty, disheveled, tear streaked, exhausted.

As we waited for our food, we called Stephan, the owner of Dakota Painting and Drywall. He was the small business owner we'd dealt with for our initial wall fixes and painting when we bought the house. As he'd been the one to apply the ceiling finish, we wanted to hire him again, for as seamless of a repair as possible.

When we were done telling him what happened, I felt so much better. He was such a calming presence, very sweet and kind. After our conversation was the first time I started to feel like "We can handle this!", and that everything would be ok.

Just talked to the awesome dry waller that did our initial reno, he'll take care of us, as soon as the insurance company bothers to call.- Twitter, Mon May 23 03:08:42 UTC 2011

... And with that taken care of, I'll be free to unleash all KINDS of crazy on the profiteering vultures tomorrow.- Twitter, Mon May 23 03:10:20 UTC 2011

We ate our meal and headed back to my father in law's house to get settled in for the night. We were only starting to get an idea of the enormity of the road ahead, but we'd dealt with as much as we could for one day.

I was trending in Minneapolis earlier, and welcome new followers, but feel bad that first impression is looking like a complete psychopath!- Twitter, Mon May 23 03:54:24 UTC 2011

So hey, anyone that thinks I was being a big wuss freaking out over storm/tornadoes last week or the week before ....- Twitter, Mon May 23 04:05:39 UTC 2011

Also, we are holed up at inlaw's house. Have cats locked in bedroom w/ us due to dog. They've come out from under bed, purring & exploring - Twitter, Mon May 23 04:08:30 UTC 2011

We appreciate all of the well wishes and offers to help. Will regroup tonight, start replying tomorrow. - Twitter, Mon May 23 04:10:04 UTC 2011

I think I'm done with crying. Now alternating between numbness and anger. Should be a MACHINE tomorrow, so that's good.- Twitter, Mon May 23 04:12:50 UTC 2011

Going to bed. Hoping that insurance company & construction people can save the house - hope to find out tomorrow. - Twitter, Mon May 23 04:54:16 UTC 2011

Was too upset to even get into booze tonight, lol. Anyway, gonna try to get some sleep. - Twitter, Mon May 23 04:59:01 UTC 2011

The room was hot, the bed was lumpy, but we had each other, the four cats, and a vague idea of what would need to be done the next day.