What’s so good about it?

Good Friday. I’ve often wondered about the person that came up with that name. It seems rather morbid to call the day that Christ was murdered “good,” but I assume that is a reference to the the reason behind why he died – good news for all of us.

Anyway, other than being off from work today, there hasn’t been much positive about it so far. The weather has been atrocious, with two tornado warnings for our county this morning before lunch. Since we don’t have any real form of protection from such weather events at our home (basement/storm shelter), we drove to the local hospital before the storm hit. The staff ushered everyone into interior hallways and we huddled together as sirens wailed outside. One lady grabbed her husband’s hand and muttered prayers while clutching her chest. My anxiety was increased by a text message from my sister telling me that Mom had abandoned the mobile home that she lives in and was out in the storm trying to get somewhere safe. Thankfully, she managed to get to a more substantial building quickly.

Although we were completely isolated from the outside world while at the hospital, my cell phone was continually receiving important weather-related updates from The Weather Channel. I just signed up for their free text/email service last night and have been pleasantly surprised with its effectiveness so far. It even alerted me before my weather radio did on one occasion. Go here to sign up.

Author: Brian

Blogger. Bookworm. Michael Jackson fanatic. Lives in Kentucky with partner of 12 years and three fabulous felines.

1 thought on “What’s so good about it?”

  1. I now live in Phoenix, where tornadoes are almost unheard of (but dust devils dance all summer long on a field just south of my house — I love watching them).

    Anyway, some of my fondest memories as a child are of tornado warnings.

    First, when we lived in an apartment in Minneapolis (or was it St. Paul? I was 2-3 at the time), we had a downstairs apartment, and I recall nights when all the upstairs neighbors came downstairs and crowded in our hallway. I’m actually not certain whether this is a single memory or a set of related ones, but a prominent feature (I have no idea why) is Eric Sevareid on the black & white TV in the living room.

    Later, when we lived in Toledo, I recall the feeling of the darkening, turbulent skies — the fantastic clouds, my mother worrying, and building “forts” out of the old couch in the basement as we passed the time. Last year, as I was visiting that house for the last time (my parents were moving a new house right next to my sister’s), there was another such night — the eerie, fantastic clouds, the odd lighting, and, ultimately, the tornado siren.

    I suppose if we’d ever been IN a tornado, my sentiments would be a whole lot different, but somehow there’s just something so *alive* about the world during those times, that I just remember them with such wonder.

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