TWISTER

Everything changed on the first day of August 1835.

It started out hot, but the humidity was oppressive. By late afternoon, the sky had darkened with big black thunderclouds coming in from the southwest. The heavy rumble of lightning rolled across the heavens and flashes lit the dark clouds.

Abraham and Frederick were working in the fields. They stopped to look at the sky and the unbelievable show God was putting on for them right here in the middle of Indiana.

"This one's going to be a gully-washer," Frederick said, as the wind blew off his hat.

"Aye," replied Abraham. "Let's be getting back to the barn. No sense standing tall in this field with all that lightning coming our way."

They unhitched the mules and made for the barn as heavy rain started falling. Both were soaked as they ran to the cabin.

Abraham's wife, Mary, was waiting by the door with blankets as they came in. "I'm glad the two of you had enough sense to come in out of the wind and rain," she said.

Abraham noted her cheerful attitude, which didn't hide her fears. She plain didn't like winds. She had already closed the shutters on the cabin windows and had oil lamps lit.

Abraham listened as the force of the wind intensified, now squirreling around outside. Gusts came down the chimney, agitating both the fire and the ashes. He saw Mary clutch the smaller children, holding the youngest against her breast.

Lightning illuminated the black clouds with flashes every few seconds. Some bright bolts jaggedly arched from the sky down to the ground.

Abraham silently began to slowly count, "One, two, three, four . . ." and the cabin shook as a ferocious thunderclap boomed and echoed about them. "Still a ways off," he said. He looked at his wife. Her face was ashen as her fingers wound themselves into and around the corner of her shawl. "Would you feel more at ease, Mary, if we went out to the root cellar?"

Mary didn't reply. She simply looked at him pleading with her eyes for the wind to stop.

"Right. Frederick, get that tarp from the loft. We'll use it to shed the rain as we run for the cellar."

The cave-like cavern was built into the side of a small hill as the family entered. An oil lamp was kept inside and Frederick lit it with the flint, wool, and kindling laid out. Abraham tightly cinched a rope from the door ring to a stout timber set in the ground.

The battering sound of the wind-driven rain began to change. At first, it was a light tapping sound. Quickly, the tapping increased to a crescendo as hail bombarded the door.

Abraham looked through a chink in the cellar door and exclaimed, "The ground be white, covered with hail balls."

"It sure looks that way." Abraham looked to the sky and his heart froze. There, a small cloud shaped like an upside down pyramid was beginning to emerge. At first, the pointy shape dipped toward the ground and then retreated. It repeated this over long seconds and then it was down. Trees, grass, bushes, crops, and fences disintegrate in its path. At its current course, it was coming directly for them.

"God have mercy on our souls," Mary said, trembling.

Then for no reason that can be explained, the funnel rose and retreated toward the main body of clouds like a truant child caught playing in a haystack and it disappeared.

Abraham had been holding his breath and now let it out.

Suddenly, Mary's grip on Abraham's arm became vice-like as she looked down the valley. Abraham followed her gaze and saw a new and larger funnel descend amid a deafening roar. It was headed straight for his neighbor¿s farm. Moving at an incredible speed, it struck and disintegrated the barn. Rather than dropping the mangled pieces, the scrap now took on new life, suctioned up into the whirling wind cloud and expanding its base. The funnel continued unabated and was lost from sight over the next hill.

"Oh, Abraham, pray that our neighbors are safe."

It was after their neighbor's death that Mary steadfastly wanted to leave Indiana. She was shaken and distrustful of this part of the country. She let Abraham know her feelings. "Abraham, you told me that making our trip from North Carolina would help keep us young. I got to tell you that whirlwind last night cost me ten years of my life. I¿ll never be able to feel safe here. Please, let's be farming somewhere else."

"Mary, you know I be ready to make a move and we've talked all summer about them new lands down Missouri way. But you also know that everyplace has something poor about it. Back home, we had those hurricane winds. Other folks we saw on our trip contended with many things like fever, flooded streams, and losing that family in the rapids. Maybe you just have to take things in stride wherever we be."

Mary turned and looked him in the eye. "If you're staying here, Abraham, you're staying by yourself." Slowly, she went to her knees, her head in her hands, as she sobbed into her apron.

"Things will work out," said Abraham. "I best be getting on with selling our farm so we can be going to the new lands."

Mary looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Abraham," and she laid her head against his shoulder, tears still flowing.