Brokenhearted...

As a native Oklahoman, I am no stranger to the relative horrors Mother Nature sometimes doles out in the spring. I have stood in the hallway with my arms around my terrified children as all but one of the windows in our house was shattered by baseball-sized hail. The sound of tornado sirens--while unnerving--does not send me into a panic. Rather, I do what any good native girl does. I go outside. If the funnel is to my right (that's east, folks), I remain outside. To my left--well, that's a different story. That requires a group huddle in the tub of the hall bath...or ideally, a basement or storm shelter, but I don't have one of those. Most people here don't.

The thing about a tornado is, even if you've grown up here and understand how they work and what to do, when it happens, there's nothing to do but let it come and pray for the best. It's not like a hurricane, where you have a few days' warning and the option to evacuate. The best you get is around ten minutes' lead time, and you prepare, knowing in the back of your mind that there is at least some possibility that your house and everything in it could be lost.

What you DO NOT expect is to see is a suburban city with nearly 60,000 residents virtually obliterated. You DO NOT expect to see not one, but TWO elementary schools leveled, with an unknown number of schoolchildren among the dead. There's nothing you can do but put your arm around your best friend and cry with her and watch it on the news as it barrels toward her house where her two young children are. No matter how many times I've seen it, I will NEVER get used to that part of it...and yet, the city of Moore has done this THREE times in 14 years.

Even as the death toll rises and the horrors unfold, I admire the spirit of this community. Although a million and a half people call the Oklahoma City metropolitan area home, when tragedy strikes, the sense of unity is unmistakable, and I am awestruck every time...I never for a minute intended to be a lifetime Oklahoma resident, but here I am. And today, I am nearly as proud as I am brokenhearted.