Part 2

So many people think "Where were you during the storm?" and I don't think that can summarize the full story in Tuscaloosa. There is so much more to people's stories besides where they were. In fact, the more remarkable stories are after the storm hit.

I'm sure everyone by now has seen at least one YouTube video of the Tuscaloosa Tornado. For some reason there were tons of idiots out there joyfully chasing this monster as it journeyed and ate a fourth of Tuscaloosa. To put it in perspective why I despise the videos of guys "whoo-hooing" in the videos, 2300 homes were leveled in Tuscaloosa from this. That number doesn't include the number of damaged homes, the number or leveled business, or the number of damaged businesses. Think about that the next time you watch the video. This storm destroyed so much of what is Tuscaloosa, it's hard to conceive how far reaching the devastation actually is unless you see it in person.

That being said, I still find it sad so many people come just to sight-see. We are not a place for that. Tuscaloosa is a place of so much more than the devastation you see on the news.

On the day after the storm, I was number. My car wouldn't go into gear and I borrowed A's car so I could get to work. It ended up being a good thing that I did because debris was everywhere. I find it important to define "debris" at this time. Most of the time, that word makes a person think about tree limbs down or even fallen trees, maybe some trash strewn about in yards, or even the house on the corner that lost a gutter. That's not the debris I'm talking about.

Tuscaloosa looked like a post-Apocalyptic war zone.

I was on the phone with my mother driving south on 359. I passed the 15th Street exit knowing that a out of my line of site was an area completely devastated. I knew the business were blown away, I knew the houses were gone. I knew cars were upside down in the streets. I knew that from the Guthrie's parking lot, you could see clear across to the Home Depot on the other side of Forrest Lake. In my mind's eye, I knew the area had a whole knew landscape. But I wasn't prepared for the devastation the tornado caused before it reached that area.

It was 6 am and the sun was just starting to rise over Tuscaloosa. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Pink fluffy material started to appear on the roads. The it was the larger pieces of metal. Yeesh! Debris got thrown here, too! After 359 ascended into an actual freeway, the landscape around me drastically changed. Only half of every tree was left standing, more of the pink fluffy material that insulates a house lined the roads. Fortunately, nothing large was in the road blocking the drive to work. I looked to to the right and noticed damage to buildings. I looked to my left and saw much worse.

A large metal tower was bent and twisted along the side of the road, not broken from its wide base but creased at the four posts that made the bottom. Cars were in ditches, upside down, on their sides, flattened and most with red "X's" spray-painted on the doors. The grass the remained looked like it had be freshly vacuumed from where it had been pulled from the earth. The church that identified my exit was missing one wall. A portion of the brick on one side was missing. I was the only vehicle on the road at the time and began to slow in anticipation of debris in the road. I drove underneath the first overpass holding my breath. To the right, tall mounds of wood and metal were left in place of the warehouses that marked my exit. To my left, a very large metal cylinder had rolled down the hillside, stopping just before the exit. The fence that lined the highway was gone. The posts of the buildings I had never paid attention before were all that were left of the businesses on Greensboro. Large metal boxes were lining the hillside of my exit. My exit? This is Kaloosa? Strips of metal were everywhere. Steel beams were bent in half and dug into the ground. I had never seen anything like this.

The eeriest part of seeing a disaster area is what you don't see anymore. There were no trees. there were no light posts. The traffic lights were missing. The area looked developed and completely undeveloped at the same time.

At this time, the death toll had not been announced. I knew without a doubt there was no way anyone could have survived in the relatively small amount of devastation I had seen so far.

I turned left off of the highway and back over the Interstate toward work. The car dealership to my left was missing windows and most of the cars were missing windows and were dented. I felt the sting of how expensive just that damage was going to be. It was a new BMW dealer. In the scheme of things, though, it was lucky. The business itself was missing one wall and a few panes of glass. It could reopen as soon as the roads were open for the repairs to be made.

The intersection ahead of me was out and the police were blocking the road. You could only turn right. To go straight ahead you would have to travel on foot and to go left would definitely require an ATV if you didn't want to walk. The entrance to my work is a right turn ahead of it. I hadn't realized the area was so hard hit.

There is a small neighborhood that you have to drive through to get to the station. It's a short road with a speed table and three stop signs. Small, inexpensive and old houses line the drive with tall trees giving shadow from the sun. On this day, after the first stop sign, I was grateful I was not in my small car. I wouldn't have been able to make it.

Trees lined the streets. Large limbs were in the middle of the road. I couldn't see the houses from the oaks that had fallen over. God, I hope no one was hurt. I slowed the vehicle to a creep and carefully maneuvered around the limbs. I made it to the second stop sign where on both sides of me large trees were blocking the rest of the neighborhood in. I steered around on last limb and had made it through. I could see the station now and it was just fine.

Looking back on this day is hard. I can't remember a lot. It's still a blur. I am not sure I can even write a timeline for the 28th the same way I can the 27th. I got in the building and started to work but I can't remember what work I did at first. JT came in after I did, followed by Todd and I can't remember who after that. This is where I really regret not journaling all of this as it occurred.

I'll just have to start this part of the story like this: We went on air at 8 am. We didn't go off air that day until 10 pm. At work, we had already sent emails back and forth to let each of us know that we were alive and safe. JT, Deelo, and Kyle had been at the station in the storm hit. That's how Deelo managed to shoot this video:

After the storm hit and the generator started working at the station, the story kind of goes like this: The guys just started talking about what had just happened. There were no phones or television for anyone to know what was going on. Few people had Internet access. Once the generator was supplying juice to get the phones powered, the guys apparently worked off of text messages from people able to give them information on the scope of things.

Then the phone calls started to come in. That's when everything changed.

"Hey, I'm in here and I need this and I don't know who to call."

"What we can do is pass that information along and find out for you."

That turned into, "Hey, my name is Fred and I have a chainsaw. If you need help, call or text 555-5555 and I'll come help you."

That then turned into people calling in with, "We need a home," and those calls were answered with, "We have a spare room."

In what is being heralded as one of the worst natural disasters in American history, my town came together. When we started the broadcast on Thursday, the phone calls continued.

"We have food."

"We need food."

"We need water."
"We have water."

"We have a donation drop off site."

"We're coming from North Carolina with an 18-wheeler."

The calls didn't stop. We were flooded. We were flooded with information to direct and we did it. I don't want to sound boastful about what we did. I don't want my back scratched or patted or to be awarded for my small stations efforts. We did what was natural to us and what was coming naturally to our town already; community. We would spend the next 17 days on the air broadcasting news, information, donation sites, needs, stories, heart breaks, reunions, good news, bad news, even our own personal stories. If there was a rumor in town, we would already have it debunked and have the facts ready to prove it.

And the rumors were tremendous. But I'll get to that at another time.

Thursday was such a confusing day for me. I had so many places I needed to be, so many things I needed to do. I had a test from Wednesday night that had been cancelled. When would it be made up? I was leaving for a trip the next morning, on business with A for his work. When would I be able to get home to pack...when would I be able to get home? Fortunately, I had a load of clothes at his apartment already. The wonderful man that he is washed and packed what I did have in one of his bags so I could have something to take on our trip.

It was getting to be later in the morning and around1030 am when we started to have a steady flow of phone calls, I told JT I needed to try to get to my apartment. I still didn't know if it was there, I didn't know the status of my roommates, and I didn't know if I would be able to get my things. I jumped in to A's car knowing that this would have to be a quick trip despite the obscene amount of traffic. A quick glance to 359 from the building showed it was literally a parking lot. Cars were lined up to view the devastation. smh...people need to quit. This site-seeing proved to be one of my biggest pet peeves of this entire ordeal.

I knew I wouldn't be able to get to campus from 259. It was literally not moving. My only other option was to turn right out of the small neighborhood and head in the direction of the devastation. I would have to make a huge detour, though, one that would take me straight up around all of the hardest hit areas. I had no idea how I would be able to get to where I was going without jumping on 359. The police were at every intersection and the state troopers were parked at every exit. This was going to be a nightmare.

I decided to continue my plane towards the devastation. I detoured down Greensboro to McFarland. All of the traffic lights in town were out and it was frustrating to get through each one when people didn't treat them as a four way stop. Especially at McFarland. Finally, someone let me take my turn and I was able to head toward campus on McFarland Blvd. The traffic was slow but moving and I knew I wouldn't be able to make it all the way up. I detoured again through some newly built apartments to the Target. When I got to the next traffic light, I was halted by more devastation and police officers. At the Home Depot, I looked to my left and there was nothing. My bank was even damaged. Well, there go my funds for the beach... They wouldn't reopen for four more days. It's a credit union and both locations were halted. I wouldn't be able to do anything electronically until I had Internet and they were open again. I looked in my wallet and saw a $5 bill. I felt pretty helpless with that knowledge.

The police at the light wouldn't let me turn left. The area behind him was 15th and McFarland, now known as Ground Zero around here. There was nothing there and building debris everywhere. It was the closest I had been since it hit not 17 hours earlier. Another cop was positioned directly in front of me. Behind him were homes that were completely destroyed. It was a neighborhood I had driven through a million times and now it was rubble. I would have to go right again.

I made it to the next traffic light and decided I would have to ask a policeman to let me through so I could get to Jack Warner. If I could get to Jack Warner, I could get to campus. If I could get to campus, I could get home. I told the officer at the next light where I lived and that I was trying to find out if I had a home. He was nice and let me through. Carefully, I drove down the road through heavy, heavy debris. The traffic was crawling and a lot of people were walking around. Trees were on rooftops and cars were missing windows. The landscape collectively was barely recognizable. The houses didn't look the same. I felt heartbreak looking at the homes I had wished I could buy to fix up and make my own one day. I was slowly making my way into Alberta, and area I had no idea how hard had been hit at the time.

I came to another road block and as I waited my turn, I looked to my left and saw a bent street sign. I read the street and started to recognize where I was. I followed the street sign to find a sign of a curb and realized I was driving in an area directly hit by the tornado. I was behind a shopping center that housed my old gym, the Hobby Lobby, Big Lots, Chuck E. Cheese... all of that was gone and I was like driving on pieces of the building. Holy shit... I had no clue that I was where I was. Nothing looked the same. As I began to look harder at the scene, I realized the people walking around weren't just helping other people. Many of the people were walking toward me in as much of the street as possible with suit cases. I wonder now where these people were going because they were walking miles to the nearest shelter if they were headed to the Belk Center. It didn't dawn on me at the time that these people probably didn't have a destination. I was too busy realizing they were carrying in these suitcases all they had left from their home.

I finally reached the cop and told him what the police officer had told me to tell him to get through the block.

"No, ma'am, you can't go through here."

"But I'm just trying to get home and get my things. It's my home. I just want to get to Jack Warner."

"Not this way you're not."

"But I live here. How do I get home?"

"I don't care. You can't go home."

"Just, please, tell me how I can get to Jack Warner, please," I was desperate. "Can you at least tell me if it's still standing?"

"You can't go home." He pointed for me to turn around and another police officer walked up. I gave up and turned around. I knew there had to be a way for me to get to Jack Warner.

I headed back to the main road and tried another road to Jack Warner. This one was covered with trees. I followed a car through the neighborhood hoping it was going to lead me to the other side. When I got to another police officer, I explained what I was trying to do again.

"Ma'am, I don't think you're going to be able to get home. We're not even letting the folks who live here through."

"I understand that but can you tell me how I can get to Jack Warner from here? If I can get there, I think I should be able to get home."

"Well..." he thought for a minute. "Alberta is all gone and you won't be able to get to Kicker. You're going to have to turn around and go to 359."

Groan..."It's pretty bad over there, too. The traffic isn't moving. Do you know about the toll bridge?"

"No, I don't but even if you did get to Jack Warner, I am not sure it doesn't have road blocks on it, too."

I tried five more road blocks, some officers as friendly as the second one, many as tired and mean as the first one. I was tired and just wanted out of the car. I gave up. I couldn't get home.

I headed back to the station worried about my apartment. I didn't even know where to begin to start to park and walk and find out much less get my things. When I finally made it back to the exit to the station, a state trooper was parked blocking the entrance. He wouldn't let me through. I pointed to him where I was going and he wouldn't budge. I showed him the email and my badging that showed he had to let me through the road block and he still didn't let me through. Instead, he made me drive back up 359, on to 15th Street, down Greensboro, through a second road block, show my badging again, drive through Rosedale and then to the station.

It took two hours to do that. It took less time to make it through 7 roadblocks to find out I was displaced than it did for me to get back to the station. Tuscaloosa was a traffic disaster. Everyone was site seeing. And I can understand despite how frustrating it was. Your jaw dropped at the devastation.

I got back to the station, let them know I was back and decided to walk to Rosedale and take photos for the website. It was on my to-do list for the day. Taking pictures was not something I wanted for my own personal memoirs. It was a twenty minute walk to the area.

I have more to write about my walk to the area and seeing the immediate needs, the immediate devastation, and the cleaning-up already started. However, I don't want to write all of this in one sitting. Thursday was an emotionally draining day for me. As I'm trying to write this and recall everything, I get exhausted remembering the emotions of the days. It stung to hear "you can't go home," over and over again. It still stings to remember the uncertainty of having a home, deciding on what to do about a planned trip when you're already displaced I mean, where else would I have gone? I was very torn that day on whether to stay in Tuscaloosa because I felt so compelled to fix what had happened but I wanted to go on this trip, whether I had my things or not, so I wouldn't have to see this disaster another second. While I think it's important for me to write down everything I can now before I forget and to tell my story, I think it's more important for me to remember all I can not just so that twenty years from now I can show my kids history, but for therapy. I also think it's important to keep this from being boring and exhausting to read in one sitting!

Walking through Rosedale was a medley of emotions that I still haven't defined. For that matter, Part 3 will be about the experience and I will include the photos I took. For me walking through Rosedale was walking into another world.

...tbc