Forgive the delay. I've been in storm cleanup mode.
Wednesday, 27 April, 2011 will be talked about for years at local barbershops or at least it will be every time I go into one. NOAA estimates at least 173 tornadoes touched down in parts of the South including East Tennessee where I choose to abide.
The local CBS affiliate reports 25 tornadoes in the Volunteer State have been confirmed so far. (NOTE: The National Weather Service ultimately reported that 48 tornadoes touched down in Tennessee, breaking the previously one day total of 15.)
One twister in Knox County began "near the intersection of Old Settlers Trail and Lakemoor Drive and ended around the area of Wye Way Lane and River Oak Drive." It then climbed a ridge and bounced, hopping over my house like a Myotis out of hell. Pounding me with chunks of ice, i.e. hail, the other spelling of the word.
I've never been through such a load whacking. BAM! BAM! BAM! Pound, pound. Think of it as Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg. If you were in the line of fire, there was no place to hide.
Hailstones (somewhere between the size of a ping pong ball and an RC Cola bottle cap) ripped a bazillion new leaves, branches and branchlets from their moorings over my home creating a yellow-green blanket over everything. Surreal.
The local CBS affiliate reports 25 tornadoes in the Volunteer State have been confirmed so far. (NOTE: The National Weather Service ultimately reported that 48 tornadoes touched down in Tennessee, breaking the previously one day total of 15.)
One twister in Knox County began "near the intersection of Old Settlers Trail and Lakemoor Drive and ended around the area of Wye Way Lane and River Oak Drive." It then climbed a ridge and bounced, hopping over my house like a Myotis out of hell. Pounding me with chunks of ice, i.e. hail, the other spelling of the word.
I've never been through such a load whacking. BAM! BAM! BAM! Pound, pound. Think of it as Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg. If you were in the line of fire, there was no place to hide.
Hailstones (somewhere between the size of a ping pong ball and an RC Cola bottle cap) ripped a bazillion new leaves, branches and branchlets from their moorings over my home creating a yellow-green blanket over everything. Surreal.
With over 300 dead and thousands left homeless across the South, my loses are light. Outdoor chairs, birdbath, hummingbird feeder. But the one that hurts the most: my classic—collector's item, made in Tennessee—19 year old Saturn SC with over 250,000 road miles took a direct hit. (Yes, a quarter of a million miles in one car. That's roughly the distance from the Earth to the Moon. Hello Houston, the Eagle has landed.) My beloved Saturn is now dimpled like a new Titlest Pro V1, the windshield spider cracked and the sunroof I always wanted is in the back.
BUT, despite all that, the GM darling is drivable and a lot more airy.
•
