Verne Carlson
EF5
A friend of mine who lives in Memphis sent me this story from a young lady, Julie Boyer, who survived in the dorm at Union University when it was hit the night of Feb 5th:
Dear Friends and Family,
I would have liked to write this letter sooner, but today is the first day I have been alone since the events of last Tuesday, February 5th. Most of you now know I was at Union University when the EF-4 tornado hit the dorms ten days ago, and many of you have read my friend Heather’s account. I wanted to take the time to write to each one of you my memories and experience in the storm. This is as much for me as it is for all of you. Please be patient as this may be a little long.
The Jackson schools let out early Tuesday due to “impending inclement weather,” so tutoring had already been cancelled. I decided I would try to get as much done as possible before the storms hit. I ran to lunch with Katelyn (one of my interns), picked up some essentials, and ran by our Lifeway Christian bookstore to pick up a commentary on Colossians. All afternoon, I had tons of energy. My adrenaline was kicking! When I got home, I cleaned my house and started laundry.
The whole day seemed strange, and my dad kept calling me to ask about the storms. We have tornadic activity so often in Jackson that my parents aren’t usually apprehensive. Dad didn’t seem worried, just really curious and concerned about my day, as well as where I would be that night. Mom told me later he had a sense of foreboding all day long, and he was extremely worried about me. That’s why he kept calling. We talked again around 5:30; and, after I hung up with him, I decided to find a downstairs location to which I could go when the sirens sounded. Memphis already had tornadoes, and they were headed toward us.
I could have gone anywhere. I didn’t think my downstairs neighbors were home, so I mentally listed all the places and homes I could go that had basements. In the end, I decided to call some of the students at Union who I mentor. I figured if I waited out the storms with them, it would give us a chance to catch up and have fun together. I called four students, three who lived in the same room, and none of them answered their phones. About five minutes later, they all called back. For those of you who don’t have tornadoes where you live, we never stay on the top floor during tornado warnings. Since I live on the second story, and Union University is across the street from my apartment complex, the dorms on the first floor were a logical choice to go for safety.
Kellie Roe, one of the girls, called me at about 6:20 to tell me it was looking bad, and they wanted me to come over before the sirens sounded signaling tornadoes in our county. I finished packing my “tornado bag” with the essentials: pajamas, dinner, my favorite Bible, the book I was reading, a first aid kit, a flashlight, my purse. Then I folded one last load of laundry, put our gigantic Maglite on the table for my roommate to use if the power was out when she returned, and drove over to Union.
All the parking spots were taken, so I parked illegally right in front of the dorms (my car was destroyed; that’s what I get!). I called my dad and said, “Dad, this may sound strange, but I feel like I need to tell you that I’m going to Jelks 11. Write this down. Here are the names of the girls who live there.” He wrote them down, and asked for their phone numbers. In the thirty or so tornado warnings I’ve been in over the last eleven years, we had never done that. I got off the phone and ran inside.
Kellie, Suzanne Short, and Heather Martin were all home. The TV was on, and the girls were just hanging out. About five minutes after I walked in, the sirens sounded. Suzanne is an RA (resident assistant), so she grabbed her phone and keys, and headed out to clear the top floor of Jelks, the building for which she was responsible. There were three girls who came downstairs to join us. Suzanne headed to the Commons to report in.
The six of us sat in the living room watching the TV. The announcer kept saying the conditions were producing a textbook super cell, but the storm still looked like it was quite a ways off. We were told later the tornado’s traveling speed increased from about 50 mph to 80-100 mph when in hit the Madison County line. This is why we didn’t realize it was so close. About two minutes before the tornado hit, Suzanne opened our door and yelled, “Get in the tub, NOW!” We were the last room she told before she sprinted for Hurt Commons to check back in. She almost didn't make it. Without her, though, we would all probably be dead.
We moved instantly to the bathroom. The three upstairs girls climbed into the tub, bobsled style. They were positioned toward the end of the tub with the faucet. Kellie, Heather, and I stood by the edge of the tub debating whether or not we should close the bathroom door. If we did, we couldn't hear the TV. We thought the storm was still two or three minutes away. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and baseball sized hail or debris started hitting the outside door and windows. We immediately moved to close the bathroom door the rest of the way.
At that moment, my ears popped. I've been extremely close to three other tornadoes in my life, and the pressure always changes making me to swallow in order to pop my ears. Never, though, has the pressure changed instantly, forcing my ears to pop. I looked at Kellie and Heather and said, "Girls, pressure change. Get in the bathtub now!" Heather said later that my face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. I knew we were about to be hit hard.
The next moments are a still a bit of a blur. I jumped into the tub on the end away from the faucet, and grabbed Heather's hand to help her in. As I was sinking down, Heather was trying to find space to fit. Kellie was almost in. After that, the lights went out, there was a pop (we think it was the bathroom door flying open), and the bathroom wall blew into and over us. Not only did the storm sound like a train (or a thousand of them – as Heather said), but it truly seemed as if a train had hit the bathroom wall. The noise was deafening. The power of the storm is absolutely indescribable.
Dirt and debris was pelting us, and we were screaming as the bathtub ripped from the floor on one side and tilted us at a slight angle. The wind was pushing from both the side and behind. I could feel the rotation. Heather told me later the wind was picking her legs up, and she felt like it was trying to suck her out of the tub. She said I was still gripping her hand. She held on to me and to the side of the tub to keep from flying out. I don't remember this, only that I was thinking, “I can’t believe it’s actually hitting us!” What I do remember is what happened next.
We heard crackling, and the second floor suddenly dropped on top of us. It's funny the things you remember. It reminded me of a game I played as a kid called Stay Alive, the one with all the marbles set up in a grid. You pull these sliders on the ends waiting to see what will drop. If there are holes, the marbles drop straight down with a bang. I felt like someone pulled the bottom out from the second floor, and it came crashing down.
We were pressed down further and further into the tub as the weight of the debris settled on us. It felt like the outside concrete wall fell on us after the second floor dropped. We'll never know for sure, but that's how it felt: bathroom wall from the side, second floor from the top, and the crushing weight of the concrete falling afterward. The storm was still raging all around us, but the sounds became muffled as the building pressed in on us from all sides, squishing us into only the space of the actual tub. I thought the pressure from above was going to kill us.
more to follow...
Dear Friends and Family,
I would have liked to write this letter sooner, but today is the first day I have been alone since the events of last Tuesday, February 5th. Most of you now know I was at Union University when the EF-4 tornado hit the dorms ten days ago, and many of you have read my friend Heather’s account. I wanted to take the time to write to each one of you my memories and experience in the storm. This is as much for me as it is for all of you. Please be patient as this may be a little long.
The Jackson schools let out early Tuesday due to “impending inclement weather,” so tutoring had already been cancelled. I decided I would try to get as much done as possible before the storms hit. I ran to lunch with Katelyn (one of my interns), picked up some essentials, and ran by our Lifeway Christian bookstore to pick up a commentary on Colossians. All afternoon, I had tons of energy. My adrenaline was kicking! When I got home, I cleaned my house and started laundry.
The whole day seemed strange, and my dad kept calling me to ask about the storms. We have tornadic activity so often in Jackson that my parents aren’t usually apprehensive. Dad didn’t seem worried, just really curious and concerned about my day, as well as where I would be that night. Mom told me later he had a sense of foreboding all day long, and he was extremely worried about me. That’s why he kept calling. We talked again around 5:30; and, after I hung up with him, I decided to find a downstairs location to which I could go when the sirens sounded. Memphis already had tornadoes, and they were headed toward us.
I could have gone anywhere. I didn’t think my downstairs neighbors were home, so I mentally listed all the places and homes I could go that had basements. In the end, I decided to call some of the students at Union who I mentor. I figured if I waited out the storms with them, it would give us a chance to catch up and have fun together. I called four students, three who lived in the same room, and none of them answered their phones. About five minutes later, they all called back. For those of you who don’t have tornadoes where you live, we never stay on the top floor during tornado warnings. Since I live on the second story, and Union University is across the street from my apartment complex, the dorms on the first floor were a logical choice to go for safety.
Kellie Roe, one of the girls, called me at about 6:20 to tell me it was looking bad, and they wanted me to come over before the sirens sounded signaling tornadoes in our county. I finished packing my “tornado bag” with the essentials: pajamas, dinner, my favorite Bible, the book I was reading, a first aid kit, a flashlight, my purse. Then I folded one last load of laundry, put our gigantic Maglite on the table for my roommate to use if the power was out when she returned, and drove over to Union.
All the parking spots were taken, so I parked illegally right in front of the dorms (my car was destroyed; that’s what I get!). I called my dad and said, “Dad, this may sound strange, but I feel like I need to tell you that I’m going to Jelks 11. Write this down. Here are the names of the girls who live there.” He wrote them down, and asked for their phone numbers. In the thirty or so tornado warnings I’ve been in over the last eleven years, we had never done that. I got off the phone and ran inside.
Kellie, Suzanne Short, and Heather Martin were all home. The TV was on, and the girls were just hanging out. About five minutes after I walked in, the sirens sounded. Suzanne is an RA (resident assistant), so she grabbed her phone and keys, and headed out to clear the top floor of Jelks, the building for which she was responsible. There were three girls who came downstairs to join us. Suzanne headed to the Commons to report in.
The six of us sat in the living room watching the TV. The announcer kept saying the conditions were producing a textbook super cell, but the storm still looked like it was quite a ways off. We were told later the tornado’s traveling speed increased from about 50 mph to 80-100 mph when in hit the Madison County line. This is why we didn’t realize it was so close. About two minutes before the tornado hit, Suzanne opened our door and yelled, “Get in the tub, NOW!” We were the last room she told before she sprinted for Hurt Commons to check back in. She almost didn't make it. Without her, though, we would all probably be dead.
We moved instantly to the bathroom. The three upstairs girls climbed into the tub, bobsled style. They were positioned toward the end of the tub with the faucet. Kellie, Heather, and I stood by the edge of the tub debating whether or not we should close the bathroom door. If we did, we couldn't hear the TV. We thought the storm was still two or three minutes away. All of a sudden, the wind picked up and baseball sized hail or debris started hitting the outside door and windows. We immediately moved to close the bathroom door the rest of the way.
At that moment, my ears popped. I've been extremely close to three other tornadoes in my life, and the pressure always changes making me to swallow in order to pop my ears. Never, though, has the pressure changed instantly, forcing my ears to pop. I looked at Kellie and Heather and said, "Girls, pressure change. Get in the bathtub now!" Heather said later that my face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. I knew we were about to be hit hard.
The next moments are a still a bit of a blur. I jumped into the tub on the end away from the faucet, and grabbed Heather's hand to help her in. As I was sinking down, Heather was trying to find space to fit. Kellie was almost in. After that, the lights went out, there was a pop (we think it was the bathroom door flying open), and the bathroom wall blew into and over us. Not only did the storm sound like a train (or a thousand of them – as Heather said), but it truly seemed as if a train had hit the bathroom wall. The noise was deafening. The power of the storm is absolutely indescribable.
Dirt and debris was pelting us, and we were screaming as the bathtub ripped from the floor on one side and tilted us at a slight angle. The wind was pushing from both the side and behind. I could feel the rotation. Heather told me later the wind was picking her legs up, and she felt like it was trying to suck her out of the tub. She said I was still gripping her hand. She held on to me and to the side of the tub to keep from flying out. I don't remember this, only that I was thinking, “I can’t believe it’s actually hitting us!” What I do remember is what happened next.
We heard crackling, and the second floor suddenly dropped on top of us. It's funny the things you remember. It reminded me of a game I played as a kid called Stay Alive, the one with all the marbles set up in a grid. You pull these sliders on the ends waiting to see what will drop. If there are holes, the marbles drop straight down with a bang. I felt like someone pulled the bottom out from the second floor, and it came crashing down.
We were pressed down further and further into the tub as the weight of the debris settled on us. It felt like the outside concrete wall fell on us after the second floor dropped. We'll never know for sure, but that's how it felt: bathroom wall from the side, second floor from the top, and the crushing weight of the concrete falling afterward. The storm was still raging all around us, but the sounds became muffled as the building pressed in on us from all sides, squishing us into only the space of the actual tub. I thought the pressure from above was going to kill us.
more to follow...
I love each of you.
