Thunderstorms Are AWESOME!

I used to be terrified of storms.   Just ridiculously scared of them.   Growing up near Lake Erie in the Midwest, we saw our share of decent summer storms.    And every storm watch/warning saw me putting our dogs' leashes, with the dogs attached to them if I thought I could get away with it without someone making fun of me, in the hallway of our house by the pantry because we didn't have a basement.   My mother was instrumental in fostering this fear;  every time there was a flash of lightning or a rumble of thunder, or every time there was a watch/warning issued, my mother would instantly turn on the Weather Channel and yell at anyone who dared to get near windows or the phone ("because you can get electrocuted through the phone line, you know!").

Then I went on a vacation with my siblings to Colorado and back.   That trip was a defining period of time for me for a lot of reasons, but one of the main ones was that this was the trip that scared the storm fear right out of me forever.   

I was 15 years old, and my sister K and I drove to St. Louis to pick up another sister, T.   We then drove on to the Rocky Mountain states, where we met up with our last sister CA and her husband and baby daughter, as well as our brother KM and his son and daughter.   We camped at Devil's Tower for a few nights because several of my sibs were planning to climb it (don't even say anything -- I already know how weird most people think we are in what we think of as fun).   And on one of those nights, we got a thunderstorm. 

Thunderstorm?   Nah...that was a near-tornado.   We had heard the storm warnings during the day, but no one was really worried except me...at least on the outside of their faces.    The sky darkened all evening as we prepared dinner on the fire and on camp stoves, and it started raining just as we all got into our tents.   K and I were in a tent with her dog, and the others were in family tents of their own.   The storm ramped up quickly, and before too long the wind was blowing so hard that K and I had our hands full just trying to keep the sides of the tent from collapsing inward on us.   But otherwise, despite the pyrotechnics outside and the heavy wind and rain and continuous bangs of thunder, we were fine, and I was actually beginning to calm down....until my sister T suddenly ripped open the door of our tent, grabbed me by the arm, and hauled me out, saying "Get the FUCK out of this tent!   The trees are coming down and you're not staying in here!"    I had never seen T so scared in my life, and I had little choice but to follow her as she dragged me, K's sleeping bag (which got caught on my foot), and a clothing bag out into the storm.   K's dog also ran out of the tent in the excitement, and I guess she had her hands full getting him back.   But T dragged me to CA's van, where her husband and daughter were already inside with their dogs.   My brother and his kids declined the offer to join us, and K was busy getting our things back into the tent, so the rest of us took the van and drove down to the ranger station to see if there was any info.  There wasn't, of course, and we drove slowly back to our campsite, which was now flooded and littered with tree branches, while we watched the huge gusts of wind tear tents out of the ground and pull trees nearly sideways.    The storm finally died down, and we all went back to our tents.

The next morning, we were appalled at the amount of damage we saw in the campground.    That was easily the worst storm I've ever been in, and I spent it in a tent, mostly.    K always said that she and I would have been just fine in the tent, and the only reason anything got wet at all was because T panicked and pulled me out.   I had no idea T's fear of storms was almost as great as mine, if not greater, and it was a wonder to learn that someone so much older than I was could be afraid of anything, especially her.   But I learned a lot of things on that trip.

Anyway -- since that night, I've never been afraid of storms.   I guess those psychologists who use flooding to desensitize their phobic patients know what they're doing.   I now LOVE thunderstorms, and it's my mission in life (well, one of them, anyway) to make sure my kids don't suffer through summer storm warnings the way I did.

But that brings me to my problem for the day:  severe storm warnings.   I get that they're a good thing, but do we have to have the local news media whipping everyone into a panicked frenzy?   And can we just talk about the sirens for a minute?   On my side of town, it never fails that the tornado siren goes off at either 1. the least gust of wind or 2. about 4 minutes AFTER the storm passes me by.    Neither circumstance really makes me want to put a lot of faith in those damn sirens.  

So...my apologies to all of you with storm-phobic kids, pets, or adults in your households, but for me -- bring 'em on!   I'd like a little excitement in my world sometimes :)