Tornado Warning

A Note From the Author "For the first time in my life I feared uncertainty; I feared death. But worse, I feared for my children." —Name Withheld Local residents believe that Bella Vista, Arkansas, my hometown, is a protected area. The hills that rise in the land between Bentonville, Arkansas, and Jane, Missouri, prevent strong winds from getting the leverage required to take off. While this myth provides some sense of security, it's not actually true. Tornadoes can and have occurred in mountainous areas, valleys, and narrow spaces. So while a tornado isn't likely to hit my city, that's not enough for me to consider ignoring a warning. I remember hiding in the bathtub as a small child as we waited out the tornado sirens. My own children will have similar memories. The night of the Joplin tornado, we hovered in the bathtub for hours, watching several different storm heads on my laptop. With my husband stationed in Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, it was just me and the children. I thought I was prepared. We set up camp in the downstairs bathroom, and I felt pretty safe. I put my two boys in the bathtub with their blankets and pillows. The baby sat by me on the tile, laying on her changing pad (I'd like to say sleeping, but she definitely was not). It was when I conducted these interviews and spoke with survivors that I realized, if a tornado had hit my house, sitting in the bathroom might not have been enough. When my neighbors and I heard about Joplin, a city less than an hour away, we felt an immediate concern for their safety. We consider Joplin a sister city, much like Fayetteville or Rogers—parts of the northwest Arkansas metropolitan area. Relief stations for donations were set up immediately, with volunteers from different church groups across Northwest Arkansas heading up to Joplin to help. While driving up to Fort Leonard Wood to visit my husband just a few days after the tornado, I tuned the radio to a station out of Joplin. For hours I listened to stories, as well as pleas, to remember Joplin in the next few weeks, few months…a year. I didn't think much about that plea until late September. I found myself driving through Joplin again, on my way to a book signing near Kansas City. I wondered about Joplin, if people were still helping, if they still remembered. I wondered if there was anything I could do to help. The idea for this book came close on the heels of those thoughts. I envisioned it serving three purposes: raising funds for Joplin and other tornado-ravaged cities, providing an outlet for those who wanted to tell their story, and helping to ensure the tornado stay in people's memories forever. I started the project that very weekend. I narrowed it down to a story featuring women who stood stronger than they thought themselves capable, rising to the challenge to persevere in the face of adversity. The stories recorded have haunted me for weeks. There have been moments when I am in my daughter's room and I hold her to me, and I wonder what I would have done if it had been me. I imagine starting my normal day, not taking advantage of the mundane moments where I could treasure my children or spend a little more time just being grateful for them. I would not have any idea that in a few hours my life would change. No one ever knows when change will come. These are but a handful of the experiences the people of Joplin had that Sunday night. Every single person in that city has a story they could tell. My hope is that we will not forget what happened in Joplin. As the months and years go by, other tragedies will happen, and the people in this small Missouri town will become less sensational. And yet the healing for Joplin is far from over; they will never forget. I have tried to capture the disruption the tornado caused in the lives of the women in this book. I show them living their lives through each hour of the day—being moms, wives, girlfriends, sisters, and daughters. I show them cleaning dishes, going to lunch, gardening, and pursuing hobbies. Then I show how it all changes. The story doesn't end with the tornado. It continues to the cleanup, the search and rescue efforts, and the attempts to salvage personal items from the debris of destroyed homes. It shows the healing in the weeks that followed. It goes on to show the strength of these women and their families, their fears, and their ability to overcome destruction, loss, and death. I hope I have done them justice.