Remembering the Joplin Tornado

As the first anniversary of the Joplin tornado comes, I reflect on the terrible disaster and the powerful lessons it taught me.

“Rhonda, there was a tornado! The house is destroyed. …”

This was the grim news tearfully relayed to me by my mom on May 22, 2011, before she quickly passed the phone to my dad. He was only able to blurt out, “It’s bad! Oh no, the wind is picking up again …” before the line went dead.

Devastation

After several attempts to reconnect with them failed, I raced upstairs to turn on the Weather Channel. I quickly realized the enormity of the situation when photos of the devastation wrought upon the city of Joplin, Missouri, flashed on the screen. Indeed, a tornado of mammoth proportions had completely transformed my peaceful Midwestern hometown.

Frantic to make contact with family members, I was finally able to reach one of my aunts who lived on the other side of Joplin from my parents. My aunt informed me that my grandmother, another aunt and a cousin were in the emergency room of St. John’s Regional Medical Center.

At the same time that I was trying to process what she had just conveyed to me, the visuals were playing out before me on the Weather Channel. A reporter was standing in front of the hospital—what appeared to be the remaining debris of a wartime bombing raid. The facility was located in the direct path of the devastating whirlwind.

Once again, I scrambled to contact my mom, but to no avail—the cell phones were jammed and many of the receiving towers were down around the city. For what seemed like hours, I scoured the news for additional information and continued to make fruitless phone calls. The news originating from the hospital was increasingly dismal. As smoke emanated from the structure and a suspected gas leak was found, fear mounted that what still remained would explode. As people passed by the reporter, they appeared dazed or in shock.

Eventually, when the station’s videographer panned the adjoining neighborhoods, I realized the home of my cousin and her family, located just two blocks from the hospital, had been leveled, as had everything for several blocks in all directions.

A friend pointed me to another online video showing further devastation caused by the Joplin tornado; but unbeknownst to her, I recognized the location to be just two blocks from my parents’ home. My heart sank even further and a feeling of panic began to grip me.

Feeling helpless

It was one of the worst evenings of my life—sitting there, feeling helpless, watching the news and waiting to hear from my dad and mom.

Around 8:30 p.m. my dad called, but no one seemed to know my mom’s location. My parents had gotten separated after they took a neighbor to the hospital. Dad had ventured out, walking several miles to his mom’s house to make sure everyone was safe there. Finally, at 2 a.m., we received a call from my mom confirming she was safe.

Jeff, my brother, was able to leave immediately and fly from Portland, Oregon, to Missouri, arriving on Monday to assist in any way he could. My husband and I arrived there a few days later. In spite of viewing almost continuous news coverage regarding the area before I left, nothing prepared me for what lay before my eyes. My mind could barely comprehend the wreckage and ruin, barren trees with all the leaves stripped away, cars wrapped around telephone poles, houses with only the foundations remaining.

When we arrived at what was left of my parents’ home, it was heartbreaking. The roof was peeled away from most of the house, every window was shattered, two walls of the master bedroom were gone, and the attic floor had collapsed into the living room, soaking everything below. It was an overwhelming mess!

Lessons from the Joplin tornado

As we reflect back on that very difficult time, we thank God that no one was hurt in my extended family. In addition, we are very appreciative of the many valuable lessons we learned, a few of which I would like to share.

1.    One never knows what tomorrow will bring. What began as a seemingly ordinary, routine day became extraordinary in scope and impact. Within minutes many lives were lost and almost incomprehensible property damage was sustained.

We are told not to worry about eating or drinking but to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble” (Matthew 6:34).

2.    The real treasure cannot be destroyed. One moment stands out so vividly for me. My dad, mom and brother worked many exhausting hours attempting to rescue any potentially salvageable items from the ruins. After we arrived, Mom led me to living room strewn with the soggy, soiled and torn remains of what had once been stored in the attic and stated with a measure of despair, “This is what my life has come down to.”

With tears in my eyes, I gently reminded her that she still had a son and daughter and son-in-law who were willing to immediately leave work and family behind and either fly across the country or drive 13 hours to help in any way they could.

Yes, the “stuff” often means a great deal to us humans. Some things are necessary for living a more comfortable life and some things provide wonderful sentimental memories, which can make “stuff” very difficult to lose! Yet I realize I must remember the real treasure (Matthew 6:19-21).

3.    The kindness of strangers in times of need makes a lasting impact. The enormous number of volunteers that descended upon Joplin was amazing! People from every imaginable background and location came to volunteer their time, expertise and money, plus provide a shoulder to cry on. Volunteers drove up and down the streets offering a cold drink, a sandwich or help wherever needed.

It was such a blessing to have something suddenly appear at the very time it was needed. Many of the workers were willing to listen compassionately to the stories of the survivors—often hearing the same theme over and over again.

The fact that so many people cared so greatly stood in such stark contrast to the devastation. It was as though a light of hope was lit with every bottle of water handed out. We didn’t even hear many of these strangers’ names. Some came with organized groups, others with friends and some walked alone carrying supplies. Observing the generosity and helpfulness of all of those individuals reminded me of Matthew 6:1-4, where Christ describes how God will reward those who humbly and quietly do charitable deeds.

Continuing impact

Since the Joplin tornado, my parents have relocated to Texas and live only minutes away from my husband, me and our three sons. What a huge blessing this has been after facing so much uncertainty and despair during this life-changing event.

May 22, 2011, will continue to have an impact on our lives each day through the lessons we have gleaned. We believe we are better people and a stronger family as a result of our shared experience.

Rhonda lives with her husband, Bryan, near Houston, Texas. They have three children: Harrison, Jackson and Anderson.

For more about lessons we can learn from disasters, see:

• “Thy Kingdom Come”
• Japan’s Triple Disaster: Where Can We Find Hope?
• The Titanic Tragedy: What Can It Teach Us Today?