It can't have been 20 years

It was a humid dark Wednesday morning on May the 17th, 1995. I had stayed tuned to the Weather Channel all morning. There had been several severe weather warnings issued, but as the morning progressed, there appeared to be a break in the clouds. Unfortunately, that break was to be short lived.

I was living in one of my spec houses, in the Academy Heights sub-division, that I had opened two years earlier. This particular house had no basement, and that would become an issue a short time later.

The previous year, I had built a new home for my mother on Tiger Lane. This was her second house on that street. The first one was a single level brick home, I constructed for her in 1990. In late 1993, there were some severe tornado warnings one evening. She called me the next day, and these were her exact words, "I'm selling this house, and you are going to build me one with a basement!"

For those of you who might have known my late mother, you can guess my instant reply: "sounds good to me!" In the early summer of 1994, I built her new home complete with basement, next door to her former residence.

She had gone down to her basement, when the early tornado warnings were issued, on that fateful May 17 morning. She called me a few minutes later, and asked me if I thought the worst of the storm had passed. I told her that the latest radar on television, wasn't showing too much, and as I gazed out my southwest window towards her street about an eighth of a mile away, the sky didn't look too bad. Was I ever to regret that prophetic blunder?

She went back upstairs, and I resumed working in my home office. I will never know exactly how long it was between that last phone conversation, and the first sounds of the approaching microburst. It could only have been minutes.

Suddenly, I could hear the wind begin to roar with a pitch that I had never heard before. I went from my office to again look out the same southwest window.

There is a something overwhelming, that we humans experience only a few times in life. It is a combination of surprise, wonder, amazement, detachment, and perhaps most importantly, abject terror. I have no idea how one feels such a menagerie of emotions concurrently, but I assure you they consumed me completely.

Outside the sky had become this menacing, ugly, dark green color. In all my years of watching thunderstorms, I had never seen anything resembling this.

In just a few seconds the wind seemed to increase tremendously. My next thought was to seek safety. My fear level increased dramatically, since there was no basement, leaving me limited options for refuge.

I remembered that you should go to a bathroom during such a storm, and there was a guest bath close by. I will never know why I hesitated, but I suspect that it had a lot to do with what I was witnessing outside.

It was like many of the weather videos I had seen on television countless times. Pieces of buildings and lots of tree limbs were filling the air just to the west. Whether it was shock or plain stupidity, I will never know, but I just continued to watch, transfixed by the spectacle.

I have tried to explain what happened next several times over the years. To me it felt as if something really huge had fallen upon my house. It was very loud, and the structure shuddered all the way to the foundation.

I must have used up at least one of my nine lives that day. Instead of the house blowing away, the storm receded, as abruptly as it had arrived. I was breathing very hard, and I am sure my blood pressure was through the roof. Later I was to discover one of the most bizarre results from this storm. Despite all the terrible damages that were inflicted near my house, I hadn't lost even one roof shingle.

My breathing and trembling had just begun to subside, when my phone rang. My mother was on the other line. "Something hit my house, and a part of it went through my bedroom window."

I told her I would be right down, and went to change into my work clothes. I had just tied the laces to my boots, when she called again. I could tell from her voice, that something was really wrong as she exclaimed, "your sister's house is gone!"

I jumped into my pickup and headed in her direction. I had to maneuver around several power lines and tree limbs, which littered the roadway. When I crested the hill on Tiger Lane, my heart sank. My sister's home was a totally destroyed mess.

My brother in law, Jack Conley, had miraculously escaped the carnage. He had been working nights at 3M, and remained unharmed, as he slept in one of the basement bedrooms.

The next few hours, days, and weeks, were filled with shock, cleanup, insurance adjusters, and finally rebuilding plans. It would take the combined efforts of a lot of people, but we were able to return them to their rebuilt home, four months later.

The "Great Microburst of May 17th, 1995," left its mark on our community. I am sure that many of you have your own harrowing memories. I think everyone should share those pictures and stories, as a way to honor this anniversary.

To many of us, it just doesn't seem like it was 20 years ago. Just imagine, the NHS graduating class this year, wasn't even born when the storm hit our town. We better put our microburst pictures and memories together. It is worth remembering, and relating to these future generations.