In the Grinnell Herald-Register Sept. 19, the front page noted Sept. 16 had been the anniversary of Grinnell’s 1978 tornado that killed six people.
Whenever I drive to Newton, I note the road sign on U.S. Highway 6 says Newton is a “Storm-Ready Community.”
Another sign shortly afterward lets high-profile vehicles know a railroad bridge goes across the road three miles down the road, to what used to be the Hy-Vee store, the one where a former coworker of mine lost her husband, a Newton policeman, as he responded to a robbery of that store.
So the largest tornado on record, the El Reno tornado of 2013, stretched from where that low bridge sign all the way to where Hy-Vee used to be. The El Reno tornado was 2.6 miles wide; or about from Casey’s East all the way to that store. It boggles the imagination. Think of everything in Newton between that sign and that building. I’m used to northeast Iowa, where we have spring and summer tornadoes. Down here, I find we have tornado watches and warnings well into November and December, a new circumstance for me.
I get laughed at because I gained a healthy respect for storms when, at age 8, both Oelwein and Charles City each had an F-5 tornado the same afternoon our parents were driving home from Ames after helping my sister prepare for her upcoming wedding. When Elkader had its 1985 tornado that killed two, I don’t recall any national news organization coming to town to learn what happened; but one of our bosses called back from vacation in Colorado to ask if his house was still standing.
Small towns used to be avoided by the media. Growing up in river towns taught us what floods can do, as well. I’m glad now there are NOAA radios to warn us, and advance warning of storms is longer now than the three minutes it was with the old radar of the 1960s.
One friend from Manson apologized for cutting our visit to the lakes short, saying, after 1979 tornado, as soon as the sky clouds up, she and the kids pack up and go home and go inside. I’m glad we have better storm prediction today; and I respect Mother Nature and what she can do at the drop of a hat, sometimes with no warning at all.
Lisa Boyes
Grinnell