…for Harrisburg, Illinois.
It was at a point in time between February 28 and March 1—February 29, a day that only comes around every four years—in 2012 that the citizens of Harrisburg were faced with something they’d only seen happen in other communities around the country when the weather becomes unstable and merciless in its onslaught…especially here in the Midwest.
The tragedy that struck right around 5 a.m. on Wednesday, February 29, 2012, came to be known as the Leap Day Tornado. It impacted victims from every strata, tore through housing apartments and high-end homes with no regard to status, income, ability, age, gender. In all, eight lives were lost, and numerous neighborhoods were torn to shreds, from the west side of U.S. 45 to the east side of the country club area. The mess this tornado left in its wake was the likes of which southern Illinois hadn’t seen in a while…and the trauma it left on the hearts of those left to deal with the aftermath, in terms of both destruction and death, is still there, long after the physical mess was cleaned up.
Everybody has their own stories about that day. Ours is well-known: it was a courthouse crawl week, pre-production, and we were just getting into “The Walking Dead” TV show and were busy jabbering about that on Facebook, as well as juggling Ang’s book being released and promoted, that very week (she had a radio interview and book signing the day after the tornado, in fact, in Carmi.) We were scheduled to sleep in that day, but started getting phone calls from Chris—whose grandma’s house at the country club area was destroyed in the tornado—almost immediately after it struck, calls we didn’t see or hear until about two hours after the storm, when we were up and moving. We wasted no time getting out once we knew what had happened; that was probably the fastest drive we’ve ever made from Calhoun to Harrisburg. As it turned out, there were few police on the roads from 7:30 a.m. to right around 8:45, the hour-plus it took us to get there (ordinarily an hour and a half trip) because, we learned, they were all in Harrisburg. Thanks to the ones we knew, and to fireman John Gunning, we had an escort into the stricken zone and were able to bring you the remarkable photos/vids you can find here at the site as well as at our Facebook page including these photos that Chris took of his grandma’s heavily-damaged home and neighborhood.
But someone whose story we literally wept over had an opportunity to tell it in this issue. Our own Lyndi Bowman has a column this month for the two-year anniversary of the tornado, and as a tribute to those whose lives were lost in the Leap Day Tornado of 2012, there is nothing that could be more heart-wrenching. That’s because Lyndi lost her grandmother in the storm…and she tells about this tragedy in “The Leap Day that made time stop for some,” tonight’s Read the Lead offering; for those who have an online membership to the e-Edition, click the link; for those who don’t, follow the prompts at the link; otherwise, run out to a vendor and get this month’s print edition before they’re gone, this column alone, covering the terror of learning of the death of her grandmother in the storm, as well as being surrounded by the community and the Human Shield/Wall of Purple to protect from the threat of the Westboro Baptist Church at the funeral, is well worth it.
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It’s the time of year for reflection for many in Southern Illinois.
February, a month generally associated with the breaking of the winter, the heralding of new life, and settling into the routine of a new year, is viewed differently now in Southern Illinois.
The “Leap Day Tornado,” as national news coined it, changed Southern Illinois. It changed the psyche of Harrisburg residents particularly, because of the monumental losses in the community. It would not matter who you asked, anyone who was a Harrisburg resident two years ago would tell you of the terror of that morning, and the days, weeks, and hours that followed it.
I can personally submit a deeper viewpoint.
It should be no surprise to my readers and listeners that February 29th holds a special significance to me. My grandmother, Lynda Lou Hull, was one of those who lost their lives that morning on Brady Street.
Now, two years later, I wish to share my story of the “Leap Day Tornado,” with the intent of never letting that date be forgotten. Those lost lives and homes, the fear, and then the community and love; they should stay a part of the people of Southern Illinois, living through their memories.
Asleep in the fury of the storm
I was asleep as the storm raged on that morning.
I had loved storms since my childhood, and always felt like a child when I would hear thunder roar. As a child, my father and I would always sit on the front porch or in the garage, just watching the lightning and counting the seconds until the thunder rolled. Maybe it was because of those summer storms with my dad that I would always sleep so soundly during violent storms.
Regardless of the cause, I was sound asleep that morning, only stirring when the loudest thunder would strike. However, the sounds were not what woke me, but rather the lack of sounds. The sudden silence in the storm stirred my mind, and I woke just enough to hear a siren’s faint wail in the distance.
As soon as the thought “is that the tornado siren?” struck my mind, I was on my feet and running. I lived with my mother at the time, and I knew I had to wake her and get her to the basement.
The first thing that made me know something was wrong was my dog, Maggie. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, legs locked, standing stock-still. She could have been a statue; she didn’t even glance at me as I ran.
Mom’s TV was the next sign. She had left it on so that she could watch the weather, but it was nothing but blaring static. By the time I had awakened her, it was all over. It was ominously still on South Webster. We were sure that it must have been a false alarm, but we began attempting to call everyone to be sure they were ok.
But, the phones were down, and cell phone lines where overwhelmed.
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