Christmas With a Twist - Surviving Mobile's Holiday Tornados
by Stuart McNair
It’s a good thing Santa was long
gone by then, because he
wouldn’t have stood a chance
against the freakishly gnarly,
disruptively rude, unanimously
uninvited guest that had some
folks in Mobile, AL, doing the
Peppermint Twist on
Christmas Day, 2012.
The McNair family in Mobile survived a direct hit from a tornado on
Christmas Day, and the storm did surreal damage to the family home
and vehicles, and the historic neighborhood as a whole. I grew up in
midtown Mobile near Murphy High School, and the tornado cut a path
right through my old stomping grounds, getting a little personal as it went.
Some examples: it brought catastrophic damage to Murphy High School,
particularly the Band Room and historic Auditorium, which were at the
center of my world for my four years there as a marching band, music,
and theater performer. Some heroic band parents actually ran into the
damaged Band Room and saved the woodwinds and percussion instruments
from the rain after the roof was torn off, even as the police forbade them to do so.
This storm had power: The 2,000 pound Murphy Football scoreboard
landed in someone’s yard blocks away. Also, word is that historic
Trinity Episcopal Church, where some of my family attended Christmas Eve
service, will require extreme measures to be saved. The church had just spent
millions on renovations. The twister also blew out the windows of Mobile
Infirmary, shattering glass throughout the hospital where my sister was born.
But dig this: nobody was hurt in any
of this. Many of these buildings and
houses were empty at the time. Our family
happened to be barely out of harm’s way,
because twenty minutes before the storm
hit, we had walked five houses down to
my Grandparents’ house. That’s when we
heard that famous “freight train”
sound, and saw the tornado through
the living room window.
When we emerged from crouching in the
hallway, the street looked like Berlin after
WW2. It took a while to even grasp the
damage, because of the sheets of rain, howling
winds, and piles of trees, power lines, and rubble between us and my parents’ house.
It was a mess, for sure! Neighbors all around got a special souvenir:
pieces of the McNair’s roof!
Christmas night was spent rescuing pets, dodging gas leaks and
electrocution, climbing over and under wet trees, wading through
glass and protruding nails, and attempting to salvage unopened
Christmas presents, all in total darkness with pandemonium all around.
It was frantic and emotional scene, for sure. So without going into further
detail, we lost a lot of trees, stuff, and worthless junk with intense
sentimental value, and went through a fairly traumatic experience
together. My parents, who have handled the whole thing beautifully,
won’t be able to spend a night at home for months as the now
boarded-up house is renovated.
Even though my personal losses include damages to my touring vehicle and cancellations of my New Year’s Performances, my greatest sorrow is the loss of the family’s trees. The yard had a small forest in it, with Oaks, Pines, and two glorious Magnolias, plus a host of Azaleas, none of
which could be saved. These Magnolias had the deep green leaves and the lovely white flowers, and I’ve loved, admired, and taken comfort in these trees for many years. I thought that those trees would always be a part of our family.
But let me get to the point. For me, I can’t ponder the fact that no one was hurt without thinking about the Higher Power. I just can’t. And I would challenge any person on the face of this planet to have been there and NOT admit that the occurrence had a supernatural element. It had a purpose, and it wasn’t to kill or maim, obviously.
I think all of my friends and family here in Mobile
feel very blessed. It’s made it easy for everyone to feel fortunate
to be able to take another breath, eat another meal, and share time
with precious people. It makes the rain and the dreary
weather beautiful. The air feels good. The full moon is wild.
It’s an accelerated class for the soul. Every person affected can
say that this storm, whatever it cost them, didn’t cost them anyone
that they love. They can all see with new eyes what matters, and how
fleeting and fragile this life is.
Things aren’t really in our control, you know. Reality is so often
out of our hands that we can only thank heavens that we’ve made
it this far, and that we get to have one more laugh. One more laugh
together with the ones who share this journey with us, strange
and painful as it all is.
I think everyone has begun to look
across the table at dinner, and see
a little fresh beauty in the ones
sitting there. In this vast universe of
jillions of galaxies, there are people
who have chosen to walk with us through
this sacred experience. And those people
are it. Animals too. The souls that have
agreed to walk with us are the secret of life.
There’s nothing like a tragedy to take your
mind off of depression. Nothing like a tragedy
to change the focus, and make it possible to
see that life is in fact a miracle. Everything is,
in fact, a miracle.
Nothing like a tragedy to make a person see the beauty all around,
and that this universe is in fact made of beauty. “Truth is beauty,
and beauty truth” isn’t too far from “God is Love”. Both express this
point: we are inside an experience so magnificent that our puny
pea-sized brains can’t even begin to grasp it, and it’s all a really,
really good thing. We can’t comprehend it all, but we can glimpse
a little of it, though. And just a glimpse of the Creator’s love is
enough. In fact, it’s an overflowing feast.
Life is short and time is priceless.
Family bonds are for better
or for worse. Friends are our treasure.
We are inside the great miracle.
We get to see it from our angle for only
a universal nanosecond, then it’s over.
A life is like a spark sailing up from a
great bonfire. What a joy it is to be a
part of the Creator’s Masterpiece for a
shining moment. What a joy to be a part
of the Creator. What a joy to know so
many others, each a spark of the
precious, priceless, beloved One that
pervades it all.
This is my prayer: Heavenly Father/Mother, I fall to my
knees and thank you with every fiber of my being for allowing
me to take part in this, your perfect creation. I am truly not worthy
to be a part of a plan so intelligent, loving, and wild with joy.
All I ask, Lord, is that you grant me the ability to see, hear, and
feel your presence in Nature and Living Beings for the rest of my days.
by Stuart McNair
It’s a good thing Santa was long
gone by then, because he
wouldn’t have stood a chance
against the freakishly gnarly,
disruptively rude, unanimously
uninvited guest that had some
folks in Mobile, AL, doing the
Peppermint Twist on
Christmas Day, 2012.
The McNair family in Mobile survived a direct hit from a tornado on
Christmas Day, and the storm did surreal damage to the family home
and vehicles, and the historic neighborhood as a whole. I grew up in
midtown Mobile near Murphy High School, and the tornado cut a path
right through my old stomping grounds, getting a little personal as it went.
Some examples: it brought catastrophic damage to Murphy High School,
particularly the Band Room and historic Auditorium, which were at the
center of my world for my four years there as a marching band, music,
and theater performer. Some heroic band parents actually ran into the
damaged Band Room and saved the woodwinds and percussion instruments
from the rain after the roof was torn off, even as the police forbade them to do so.
This storm had power: The 2,000 pound Murphy Football scoreboard
landed in someone’s yard blocks away. Also, word is that historic
Trinity Episcopal Church, where some of my family attended Christmas Eve
service, will require extreme measures to be saved. The church had just spent
millions on renovations. The twister also blew out the windows of Mobile
Infirmary, shattering glass throughout the hospital where my sister was born.
But dig this: nobody was hurt in any of this. Many of these buildings and
houses were empty at the time. Our family
happened to be barely out of harm’s way,
because twenty minutes before the storm
hit, we had walked five houses down to
my Grandparents’ house. That’s when we
heard that famous “freight train”
sound, and saw the tornado through
the living room window.
When we emerged from crouching in the
hallway, the street looked like Berlin after
WW2. It took a while to even grasp the
damage, because of the sheets of rain, howling
winds, and piles of trees, power lines, and rubble between us and my parents’ house.
It was a mess, for sure! Neighbors all around got a special souvenir:
pieces of the McNair’s roof!
Christmas night was spent rescuing pets, dodging gas leaks and
electrocution, climbing over and under wet trees, wading through
glass and protruding nails, and attempting to salvage unopened
Christmas presents, all in total darkness with pandemonium all around.
It was frantic and emotional scene, for sure. So without going into further
detail, we lost a lot of trees, stuff, and worthless junk with intense
sentimental value, and went through a fairly traumatic experience
together. My parents, who have handled the whole thing beautifully,
won’t be able to spend a night at home for months as the now
boarded-up house is renovated.
which could be saved. These Magnolias had the deep green leaves and the lovely white flowers, and I’ve loved, admired, and taken comfort in these trees for many years. I thought that those trees would always be a part of our family.
But let me get to the point. For me, I can’t ponder the fact that no one was hurt without thinking about the Higher Power. I just can’t. And I would challenge any person on the face of this planet to have been there and NOT admit that the occurrence had a supernatural element. It had a purpose, and it wasn’t to kill or maim, obviously.
I think all of my friends and family here in Mobile
feel very blessed. It’s made it easy for everyone to feel fortunate
to be able to take another breath, eat another meal, and share time
with precious people. It makes the rain and the dreary
weather beautiful. The air feels good. The full moon is wild.
It’s an accelerated class for the soul. Every person affected can
say that this storm, whatever it cost them, didn’t cost them anyone
that they love. They can all see with new eyes what matters, and how
fleeting and fragile this life is.
Things aren’t really in our control, you know. Reality is so often
out of our hands that we can only thank heavens that we’ve made
it this far, and that we get to have one more laugh. One more laugh
together with the ones who share this journey with us, strange
and painful as it all is.
across the table at dinner, and see
a little fresh beauty in the ones
sitting there. In this vast universe of
jillions of galaxies, there are people
who have chosen to walk with us through
this sacred experience. And those people
are it. Animals too. The souls that have
agreed to walk with us are the secret of life.
There’s nothing like a tragedy to take your
mind off of depression. Nothing like a tragedy
to change the focus, and make it possible to
see that life is in fact a miracle. Everything is,
in fact, a miracle.
Nothing like a tragedy to make a person see the beauty all around,
and that this universe is in fact made of beauty. “Truth is beauty,
and beauty truth” isn’t too far from “God is Love”. Both express this
point: we are inside an experience so magnificent that our puny
pea-sized brains can’t even begin to grasp it, and it’s all a really,
really good thing. We can’t comprehend it all, but we can glimpse
a little of it, though. And just a glimpse of the Creator’s love is
enough. In fact, it’s an overflowing feast.
Family bonds are for better
or for worse. Friends are our treasure.
We are inside the great miracle.
We get to see it from our angle for only
a universal nanosecond, then it’s over.
A life is like a spark sailing up from a
great bonfire. What a joy it is to be a
part of the Creator’s Masterpiece for a
shining moment. What a joy to be a part
of the Creator. What a joy to know so
many others, each a spark of the
precious, priceless, beloved One that
pervades it all.
This is my prayer: Heavenly Father/Mother, I fall to my
knees and thank you with every fiber of my being for allowing
me to take part in this, your perfect creation. I am truly not worthy
to be a part of a plan so intelligent, loving, and wild with joy.
All I ask, Lord, is that you grant me the ability to see, hear, and
feel your presence in Nature and Living Beings for the rest of my days.
No comments:
Post a Comment