The Meaning of "Tornado"

The word "tornado" has taken on a new meaning for anyone living in the state of Alabama. Tornado warnings or watches are pretty routine in my home state. When I was a little girl, I used to be terrified of storms, and every time the siren went off I would go get in bed with my parents, or sleep downstairs while they were still awake, or just hide somewhere. Every spring is marked by storms and tornado warnings of some kind. Slowly, the sirens became routine for me. Sometimes these storms would cause damage, but for the most part, there was never anything too bad. Maybe the tornado was spotted but never touched the ground, or maybe it touched but didn't cause too much damage.

Last April, I was sitting in the library studying when I got on facebook for a minute. I saw pictures pop up on my news feed of devastation from the tornadoes that ripped through Alabama (and parts of Mississippi and Georgia). I was shocked. "Oh my gosh!" I said, "There were tornadoes yesterday, and so many places were destroyed!" Someone at my table looked at me and said, "Well, it was a tornado. Tornadoes typically do damage." I couldn't explain my shock, because these storms were so routine for me that they no longer had significance, I no longer really saw them as a threat. That day in April, I was suddenly coldly reminded of the truth.

When I went home in May, I volunteered at Christian Service Mission for a month before I went to Hungary. There I truly saw the affects of the storms firsthand. I was responsible for taking orders from various churches, families, and organizations who needed supplies  like water, food, tools, etc. Every day I talked to hundreds of people on the phone, writing down their needs. I went to places like Pratt City (an area in Birmingham) and Webster's Chapel (a few hours away) and saw the devastation. I remember there was another threat of a storm that month, and I can still hear Mama saying, "That is the last thing we need." It wasn't so much another tornado that was the problem, but the fear, the memories, the sorrow that would all be aroused because of even a siren going off.

And yesterday, it happened again.  It doesn't matter that the storm was more concentrated this time. We are Alabama, as the news slogan says. Every person in my state (and those of us currently outside it) felt the impact of that storm. We know what this means. Many of us know firsthand what it is to lose everything. The rest of us know what it is to grieve with each other, to band together, to immediately start working to rebuild, to do all we can to be what is needed. I am so proud of my state, I am so proud of the people there, of the way we are truly a community. I am also so thankful for those outside who volunteered after the April storms and who are already asking what they can do again.

Yes, tornadoes are terrible things. Yes, they have taken on a new meaning for those of us who call Alabama home. But the beauty is, that meaning isn't all negative. Tornadoes represent destruction, confusion, loss, grief, fear. But they also represent unity, restoration, brotherhood, community. And that is something to be proud of.