Living on the Edge of Tornado Alley

I was at work on Good Friday when I heard air raid sirens. Curious sod that I am, I stepped outside the front door to see what was happening. A young female colleague had also stepped out the front door, was distracted by her cell phone and reached behind her to close the door. As I was behind her, the knob she made contact with was not the door's.

(Let that be a warning to all you cell phone junkies - you talk and drive OR reach for knobs at your own peril dammit! And mine too!)

Once she and I partially recovered from the trauma, we stood in the glow of our red faces and watched the black and gray sky roll past while we listened to the eerie wail of the air raid sirens. Well, I listened. She nattered on her damn cell phone and shot me embarrassed looks. I felt all World War Two-ie, and pictured German bombers buzzing the city, ready to unleash their fury on us English dogs. But the destruction unleashed was not German inspired. The fury from the skies was simply a hazard of living on the edge of Tornado Alley.

We are no strangers to twisters in Canada. I can think of at least three killing tornadoes in the last twenty years. I've seen a couple touch down on the empty prairies. But man, around here, April showers bring more than flowers. Enjoy sniffing the petunias but watch the sky or your ass may end up in Oz.

That Good Friday wasn't good for everybody, About an hour away in a small city called Murfreesboro, just south and east of Nashville, a twister touched down and cut a 10 mile swath through populated area. It is hard not to find a populated area around here. Two confirmed dead (a mother and her nine-week-old baby), forty one treated for injuries, houses destroyed, millions in damages.