Growing up I was terrified of storms. Not your usual child who is scare of thunder scared, no I was terrified. And so were my cousins. We had earned the right. For when I was nine years old, a super tornado system hit our family farm, destroying almost everything in it’s path. Teachers knew we were afraid of storms and that we did best to be together. But as you get older, people expect you to out grow child hood fears.
Except, I never did. And then four years ago, our community was hit once again by a super storm. We were fortunate. The only damage at our house was a tree that had to be taken down. We were without power for 8 days. And we were the lucky ones.
Yup, I am that girl: The one who survived….
Yup, both of them. And I admit, I am still terrified of storms. As we enter tornado season here in the Deep South, I am respectful of the weather. I don’t watch the local weather guys who think every storm has to be hyped up for ratings. I can tell when a tornado is coming within 24 hours by the way the air smells. I predicted the April 27 tornado the day before. So I just go with my gut and my nose. And pray I never smell that smell again.