Sunday, November 17th was just like any other day honestly. Well, I shouldn't say that. It was supposed to be a great day. A day that was supposed to be part of an amazing get-away girls weekend that I had been looking forward to for days, weeks, too long to even count.
But November 17th had other plans...
I am getting ahead of myself though...I'll start from the beginning.
For weeks leading up to that day I remember calling and texting three of my friends in such excitement. We were planning a weekend to celebrate all the new things happening in our lives and I could not wait to just be out of town and... away. I needed be to be somewhere else for a few days. Life was piling up and I was worn out by the same old day to day routines. One of the many celebrations to be had that weekend was for a friend's birthday. I remember shopping for gifts, looking up drink recipes, I think I even bought a new shirt for the weekend....basically anything except what I probably should have been doing. But, hey, I was excited and nothing was going to bring me down.
Until November 17th...
Well the Saturday finally came to make the trip two hours south of home for our celebration. One girlfriend came over to the house and we jumped in my car, waved good-bye to the hubby, and hit the road. We laughed and reminisced, joking about how excited we were for that weekend.
We finally made it to our final stop after what felt like an endless car ride in the dark and met up with three other friends. With drinks in hands, we started celebrating. Looking back at it all, I specifically remember the drinks I made for this occasion and can't help but think of the irony about them now. You see, I had made them so, of course, I did a little crafting with the jars from our wedding. I found mason jar lids and decorated them to say what we were all celebrating. One friend's jar said "new job," another's said, "new boy," the last one's said, "new plans."
And then there was mine. I remember creating these fancy drinks and making them look all cute and classy and then thinking to myself... "well Meg, nothing is really new with you. You have been looking at homes and were supposed to have a new house by now possibly, but that hasn't happened yet!" So instead, my drink read, "old news."
If I only knew then that November 17th would force me to get a new different house....
(Now I really don't mean to be bumming anyone out right about now so I will say that the night before was everything I had wanted it to be. We did laugh, celebrate, and catch up on life just like planned. It was the next day that changed everything.)
That morning I woke up like any dy and started getting ready. We all made breakfast and played with a pup that was at the house we were staying at. Life seemed so normal in that moment. Around 10:45 though, my phone got a strange emergency alert on it. It said something about "high winds and severe thunderstorms storms....possible flash floods, damaging hail, and a chance for tornadoes".... ya know, the kind of alerts we folks in the Midwest hear with just about every storm system these days. I didn't think much of it until I started getting more alerts. And then I noticed that the alerts were not even for the area I was in at the moment. They were for near home. So, I called my hubby.
For those of you that know us personally, you know that when a true thunderstorm does actually come through our area, I am the first person running to the basement while he stands at the window or sometimes is even outside watching the thing roll right in. I figured I better see which he was doing. After talking to him on the phone for a brief 10 minutes maybe, I voiced my concerns about the weather and told him that I got all these alerts so something must be up. He soothed me by telling me he had already put the truck inside the garage in case of hail and was going back inside to wait it out. He said it was probably nothing and told me to have fun that afternoon. It was right around then that the phone line hung up on us.
November 17th was on it's way...
My phone is known to be pretty crappy about hanging up on people so I thought nothing of this occurrence. Instead, I jumped in the shower to get ready for a lunch out with friends. After being in the shower for maybe less than 8 minutes, I heard my phone go off...once, twice, three, four times. I kept showering. Five, six, seven texts by the time I got out of the shower and all were asking about the same thing. "Are you guys ok?" "Please tell me you are alright." "You guys okay?" I walked out of the room in complete unawareness. What were these texts about? What happened to make everyone ask me if I was ok?
And then I called home again but this time, my wonderful hubby did not answer.
Nervous. Worry. Anxious.
And then I called home again but this time, my wonderful hubby did not answer.
Nervous. Worry. Anxious.
I called about 12 more times before the tears started coming to my eyes. I was pacing around the house we were in while texting him, looking at the radar, calling him, checking the news, etc. I was frantic. Honestly, it was not even until my family started calling and texting me that I really was a mess. People started saying the words tornado, debris, damage, homes gone, Washington, and then....Trailsedge, which was my beautiful subdivision. I was frozen in fear and looking back on this moment, I really don't remember much more than sitting on the bed with my friends in silence wondering what to do. I was so far away from the situation and had no clue what happened or what to do. All I can say looking back on it now is thank God for those friends. They got my through that day and I am forever thankful for that.
One friend sat on the bed with me as I made phone calls to anyone who might have heard from my husband. Another friend started getting ready in case we needed to leave--they were not going to let me do this alone. And the other wonderful lady there called her father who was in the next town over and graciously decided to drive over to our house to check and see what was going on. We waited for a phone call back from him which felt like an eternity and finally we got the horrible news. It was our area. Homes in fact were gone. Though he could not see if ours was one, when the phone conversation ended, we knew the weekend was no longer the fun-filled get-away we originally wanted.
Suddenly my friends sprang into action. They whirled around me, packed all of my things into the car, threw shoes my way, and started driving me home. I remember just thinking and praying that I actually still had a home but more importantly, the person I love more than anything.
By now I had been in contact with my sister and brother-in-law too many times to count. They were the only ones that had received a phone call personally from my husband. It was the only phone call he was able to make during the aftermath. This little ray of hope was the only thing that I thought about on the long two hour car ride however I did not know what to think about it. For some reason, I just could not believe their words until I heard his voice myself. So I just kept calling my husband (with no luck) and then calling my sister so she could remind me he in fact, had told her he was ok. It was honestly all I needed to know though. He was safe. Safe was my new favorite word. Now all I needed was to see him to actually believe it.
Once we started getting closer to Washington I remember thinking that it looked like nothing had happened. How could we possibly have had a tornado rip through our town when five minutes away it looked like a perfectly nice day in a cute little town. The sun was out, people were outside walking, and nothing seemed moved or damaged in any way. Things changed though as we got closer to our subdivision. Police had blocked off everything even remotely close to our area. We were forced to park at least two miles away at a park and walk to our neighborhood. We were not sure what we would have to go through so left everything in the car, put on the sturdiest boots we had with us, and started the hike. Along the way we saw some of the worst of the damage right in front of our eyes. Hand in hand, my friend and I walk. Crying in shock, I remember seeing people in their yards just starring at what was left of their homes. People had no clue what to do ad honestly, neither did we. We just kept quiet and walked on. Streets that used to be so familiar I could hardly recognize. I tried using any piece of debris or standing sign to find my way closer to my home but everything was simply unrecognizable. We just walked together.
I realized in that moment how devastating November 17th was...
Then, in the most wonderful moment of the day, we came to my road and I could see hope. Though homes were complete demolished, I started to notice that as we walked closer to my actual house, the homes along the way started looking a little better and better. We came to the top of a small hill in the middle of our road and finally I saw my house---still standing. I could see family in the front yard and they were waving. I wanted to run but my legs would not move any faster than we were already going. All around me was complete devastation and somehow our house was still there. Beat up, but still there.
My sister and cousin were the first to greet us. They hugged me and pointed in my the direction of my hubby. When I saw him, everything I feared went away. I don't even remember what we said to each other in that moment but I just know we hugged and after that, I didn't care about anything else. I believe when we were finished and I turned to my family again one of them said something about the damage to the house. My response was, "its a rental, I don't even care!"
November 17th did not take what is most important, I thank God for that everyday...
From there we walked through the house. I never knew glass could be so damaging. Glass was everywhere. It was all I could see. The floor was covered. So was the furniture. Everything shimmered with small specks of glass. They all started pointed things out to me--the patio set was destroyed, frames broken, grill was bent up, furniture scratched, lamps, vases, chairs... the list went on. Yet, I walked around my own house thinking, "this is nothing compared to 7 houses down." I felt such guilt in those first couple of days as we started hearing about families that we knew that simply lost everything. People I knew and worked with that hid in their basements while every piece of their home vanished above them. We at least still had stuff. Yes it was beat up. Yes we had damage. But we had our stuff to sort through at least. Others lost every memory they ever owned.
The next few hours consisted of packing whatever we thought we might need in the near future since we knew we could not stay there. We were not sure when we would be allowed back in to the neighborhood since it was so covered in debris. Power lines were down (and live) still in places, some areas and homes had water mains leaking that were causing problems, and honestly, you could hardly drive a car through most streets because of debris in the road. Police officers also came by once to ask if everyone was ok or needed medical attention. They also warned of looters and said stealing was already happening in two other nearby towns.
The men at the house jumped into action boarding up as many windows as they could with whatever debris they could find in our yard. As they did this, I remember looking at what I knew were pieces of someone else's home that were now covering and protecting mine. In that moment I knew the power of people, of neighbors coming together to help each other, even in silent ways.
We went on with packing and boarding things up, the best we could with what we had available and then drove 45 minutes away to my sisters house. Graciously they offered to let us stay with them until we figured things out. Other family had contacted saying they would drive in the next day to help in whatever way we needed.
The painstaking process of moving came next and we spent the next few days cleaning up endless glass and debris in our house, packing up all of our remaining belongings, collecting a pile of destroyed material in our front yard, finding a storage unit big enough for our stuff, locating a new place to live on short notice, breaking our other lease on the now damaged home, traveling back and fourth from place to place, dealing with insurance companies..the list went on and on. Busy does not describe what we felt in those days. Neither do stressed, saddened, or overwhelmed. We felt all of those yet in many ways, we did not know what to feel and most days as we worked in our house, we started feeling numb to place we once called home. It wasn't ours anymore. The tornado took all those feelings of joy and comfort from those walls and left us with a mess that we were upset about cleaning up. We loved that home and yet somehow we despised it now at the same time.
Not to mention that I HATE packing and moving in general so having to do it in the most unorganized way possible in a matter of 5 days was something I personally was screaming on the side about. Do not get me wrong, I am grateful for every person who came out to pack a box, load something into a truck, drive from place to place as we scattered our things between welcoming homes of family that offered to let us leave things there...
however, it was the most thrown together "get-the-hell-out-of-here-now" kind of move that still to this day leaves us without knowing where some of our things got placed!
Looking back on it all, we were the lucky ones. People kept telling us "stuff can be replaced, it's ok" but in all fairness, we have a lot of our "stuff" still. We were able to walk away from this devastating situation with so much that many of our neighbors wish that they still had. We are thankful for what we have, thankful for everyone that helped us or prayed for us from afar, and thankful to still have each other. As we were witness to, things could have been much worse than they were for us. We were and still are very blessed.
Please keep our little town in your thoughts and prayers though. There are still so many people that are still in so much need. There is still so much destruction to clean up and re-build. So many families still living in displacement wondering what will be next. They need us still so please don't forget them.
Until next time,
The Wallaces
One friend sat on the bed with me as I made phone calls to anyone who might have heard from my husband. Another friend started getting ready in case we needed to leave--they were not going to let me do this alone. And the other wonderful lady there called her father who was in the next town over and graciously decided to drive over to our house to check and see what was going on. We waited for a phone call back from him which felt like an eternity and finally we got the horrible news. It was our area. Homes in fact were gone. Though he could not see if ours was one, when the phone conversation ended, we knew the weekend was no longer the fun-filled get-away we originally wanted.
Suddenly my friends sprang into action. They whirled around me, packed all of my things into the car, threw shoes my way, and started driving me home. I remember just thinking and praying that I actually still had a home but more importantly, the person I love more than anything.
By now I had been in contact with my sister and brother-in-law too many times to count. They were the only ones that had received a phone call personally from my husband. It was the only phone call he was able to make during the aftermath. This little ray of hope was the only thing that I thought about on the long two hour car ride however I did not know what to think about it. For some reason, I just could not believe their words until I heard his voice myself. So I just kept calling my husband (with no luck) and then calling my sister so she could remind me he in fact, had told her he was ok. It was honestly all I needed to know though. He was safe. Safe was my new favorite word. Now all I needed was to see him to actually believe it.
Once we started getting closer to Washington I remember thinking that it looked like nothing had happened. How could we possibly have had a tornado rip through our town when five minutes away it looked like a perfectly nice day in a cute little town. The sun was out, people were outside walking, and nothing seemed moved or damaged in any way. Things changed though as we got closer to our subdivision. Police had blocked off everything even remotely close to our area. We were forced to park at least two miles away at a park and walk to our neighborhood. We were not sure what we would have to go through so left everything in the car, put on the sturdiest boots we had with us, and started the hike. Along the way we saw some of the worst of the damage right in front of our eyes. Hand in hand, my friend and I walk. Crying in shock, I remember seeing people in their yards just starring at what was left of their homes. People had no clue what to do ad honestly, neither did we. We just kept quiet and walked on. Streets that used to be so familiar I could hardly recognize. I tried using any piece of debris or standing sign to find my way closer to my home but everything was simply unrecognizable. We just walked together.
I realized in that moment how devastating November 17th was...
Then, in the most wonderful moment of the day, we came to my road and I could see hope. Though homes were complete demolished, I started to notice that as we walked closer to my actual house, the homes along the way started looking a little better and better. We came to the top of a small hill in the middle of our road and finally I saw my house---still standing. I could see family in the front yard and they were waving. I wanted to run but my legs would not move any faster than we were already going. All around me was complete devastation and somehow our house was still there. Beat up, but still there.
My sister and cousin were the first to greet us. They hugged me and pointed in my the direction of my hubby. When I saw him, everything I feared went away. I don't even remember what we said to each other in that moment but I just know we hugged and after that, I didn't care about anything else. I believe when we were finished and I turned to my family again one of them said something about the damage to the house. My response was, "its a rental, I don't even care!"
November 17th did not take what is most important, I thank God for that everyday...
From there we walked through the house. I never knew glass could be so damaging. Glass was everywhere. It was all I could see. The floor was covered. So was the furniture. Everything shimmered with small specks of glass. They all started pointed things out to me--the patio set was destroyed, frames broken, grill was bent up, furniture scratched, lamps, vases, chairs... the list went on. Yet, I walked around my own house thinking, "this is nothing compared to 7 houses down." I felt such guilt in those first couple of days as we started hearing about families that we knew that simply lost everything. People I knew and worked with that hid in their basements while every piece of their home vanished above them. We at least still had stuff. Yes it was beat up. Yes we had damage. But we had our stuff to sort through at least. Others lost every memory they ever owned.
The next few hours consisted of packing whatever we thought we might need in the near future since we knew we could not stay there. We were not sure when we would be allowed back in to the neighborhood since it was so covered in debris. Power lines were down (and live) still in places, some areas and homes had water mains leaking that were causing problems, and honestly, you could hardly drive a car through most streets because of debris in the road. Police officers also came by once to ask if everyone was ok or needed medical attention. They also warned of looters and said stealing was already happening in two other nearby towns.
The men at the house jumped into action boarding up as many windows as they could with whatever debris they could find in our yard. As they did this, I remember looking at what I knew were pieces of someone else's home that were now covering and protecting mine. In that moment I knew the power of people, of neighbors coming together to help each other, even in silent ways.
We went on with packing and boarding things up, the best we could with what we had available and then drove 45 minutes away to my sisters house. Graciously they offered to let us stay with them until we figured things out. Other family had contacted saying they would drive in the next day to help in whatever way we needed.
The painstaking process of moving came next and we spent the next few days cleaning up endless glass and debris in our house, packing up all of our remaining belongings, collecting a pile of destroyed material in our front yard, finding a storage unit big enough for our stuff, locating a new place to live on short notice, breaking our other lease on the now damaged home, traveling back and fourth from place to place, dealing with insurance companies..the list went on and on. Busy does not describe what we felt in those days. Neither do stressed, saddened, or overwhelmed. We felt all of those yet in many ways, we did not know what to feel and most days as we worked in our house, we started feeling numb to place we once called home. It wasn't ours anymore. The tornado took all those feelings of joy and comfort from those walls and left us with a mess that we were upset about cleaning up. We loved that home and yet somehow we despised it now at the same time.
Not to mention that I HATE packing and moving in general so having to do it in the most unorganized way possible in a matter of 5 days was something I personally was screaming on the side about. Do not get me wrong, I am grateful for every person who came out to pack a box, load something into a truck, drive from place to place as we scattered our things between welcoming homes of family that offered to let us leave things there...
however, it was the most thrown together "get-the-hell-out-of-here-now" kind of move that still to this day leaves us without knowing where some of our things got placed!
Looking back on it all, we were the lucky ones. People kept telling us "stuff can be replaced, it's ok" but in all fairness, we have a lot of our "stuff" still. We were able to walk away from this devastating situation with so much that many of our neighbors wish that they still had. We are thankful for what we have, thankful for everyone that helped us or prayed for us from afar, and thankful to still have each other. As we were witness to, things could have been much worse than they were for us. We were and still are very blessed.
Please keep our little town in your thoughts and prayers though. There are still so many people that are still in so much need. There is still so much destruction to clean up and re-build. So many families still living in displacement wondering what will be next. They need us still so please don't forget them.
Until next time,
The Wallaces
