It was the noise that got my attention, enough so that I stepped out on the deck on the north side of our house. It's just a train powering its way up the hill from Sulphur Springs, I reasoned. When the wind is right, I recognize the sound.
Of course, it was not anything like the sound I heard when I was growing up in Sulphur Springs. Then, when a breeze was from the south, it was the huffing and puffing of a coal-fired engine as it struggled up the hill toward Gravette that filled the air -- that and the acrid coal smoke that billowed from the smokestack when the train passed through town. Kids today will never know or appreciate those mournful, far-off whistles that accompanied those monsters of the rails, especially in the middle of the night.
But back to reality. Somehow the sound that afternoon a couple of weeks ago was different. In fact, it was louder and wasn't recognizable as a far-away train. But it was loud. I had started back into the house when I glanced north, through a dip in the treetops of those heavily forested hills which surround the homes in Touch-Me-Not Estates.
The sky was dark. A mist filled the air. It was then I noticed low, foggy wisps of clouds racing from west to east. At tree-top level, well below the overcast sky, those feather-like wisps were really speeding, fast, as if trying to outrun the roar that still sounded somewhat like a disappearing train.
The whitish, grayish wisps were not part of the overcast. They were much too low. And they seemed to be on a mission of their own, curling in and out of sight to be replaced by more wisps.
I stepped back inside to pick up a camera. Like happens so many times, by the time I removed the lens cap, stepped back outside and raised the camera to my eyes, the wisps were gone. Vanished. Out of sight. The dark clouds still hovered overhead.
I've never seen a tornado; hopefully none of us will ever experience one. But I have seen the damage, the destruction they cause. As I stepped back inside, it occurred to me there was something strangely familiar about the sound; and especially familiar was the sight I had just witnessed.
"That looked like pictures I've seen on TV -- pictures of tornado clouds that are in the formative or dissipating stage," I almost spoke aloud to myself, "wispy, almost ghost-like and fast moving." And the sound, almost like a locomotive.
Not a tornado, of course ... but ... those wispy, speeding, low-hanging clouds kept rushing through my brain. You've probably experienced such a reaction.
Minutes later the phone call came. Pastor Jack Deaton, who lives about a mile west of town, thought I would like to know his implement shed had been demolished by the wind. Other reports of other wild wind mischief soon followed: shingles and trim blown off houses, a trampoline in a tree, several flagpoles in Hillcrest Cemetery toppled and twisted in several directions. You probably read about that in last week's Eagle Observer.
Earlier that day, straight-line wind had toppled trees in several areas of town, all part of the storm that spawned tornadoes which wreaked much damage and caused deaths elsewhere in central Arkansas and much of the south.
A mini tornado didn't cause the damage in Gravette. But symptoms seemed to be there. Had the atmosphere and temperature been right, the result might, could have been, more violent, caused more damage, resulting in ... let's not go there.
According to long-time residents, Gravette has not been the site of a real tornado. Some windstorms have been what many suspected as being mini tornadoes; some have caused isolated damage in town, in nearby towns and in rural areas. Perhaps we have been lucky.
One thing always comes to mind: What could happen to the hundreds of children in our schools if a real tornado occurred? Picture them huddled against a hallway wall which is the typical safety measure taken when such a warning is issued. Shift your mind to picture decimated school buildings, like those that all too often are pictured on TV screens.
Several schools have taken advantage of financial assistance offered to help construct safe rooms in new school projects. Pea Ridge, Prairie Grove and many schools in central Arkansas have moved in that direction. Decatur is in the process of adding a safe room to an upcoming project. A new safe room is nearing completion for the senior center complex in Gravette.
Is it logical to promote such a project for every school? Such a state-funded plan has been, or is being discussed for Oklahoma. Would it be something to consider for the Natural State?
The devastation in Mayflower and Vilonia and other parts of Arkansas is tragic. We feel deeply for their losses, for the loss of lives. Hopefully, they will never experience such tragedy and devastation again, or we in this area of Arkansas, or anywhere else in our country. But....
Dodie Evans is editor emeritus at the Westside Eagle Observer. He may be contacted by email at [email protected]. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 05/07/2014