Tornado at Summer Camp

Throughout my life, I have had several close calls with tornados. I’m sure anyone living in Middle America can say the same. One memory that comes to mind is a tornado that touched down near a 4-H camp I attended as a child.

My sister and I, and many of our friends went to the local 4-H camp every summer. The camp was in the middle of nowhere and offered spartan accommodations- rustic wooden cabins with bunk beds, a bathhouse that many spiders called home, and country water that oddly tasted like iron. It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but my dad wanted me to go anyway.

The camp was held in early summer, so storms were common. On the night of the tornado, the staff members were aware of the warnings but were tight-lipped around the campers.

It was getting late, but we were instructed to leave our cabins and come to the rec hall for a mandatory impromptu dance party. Once we were gathered in the hall, the staff closed all of the large sliding doors and turned the music up loud. We all had a great time line dancing and had no clue what was going on outside. Soon the storm settled down and we returned to our cabins.

When our families came to pick us up at the end of camp, the destruction left by the storm was visible on the drive home. There were tree limbs, debris, and parts of houses covered in plastic. The tornado had come within a mile of the camp.

My stomach sank when I realized that we were dancing and having a good time as a tornado had torn through nearby houses. I can’t imagine the tense anxiety the camp staff must have been feeling that night. They knew we were in danger but put on a happy face anyway.

Even though I have had a few close calls, I remain extremely fascinated with tornados. I think I am curious about the things that frighten me, and I will never forget the experiences I’ve had.