The Monsoon Apocalypse!

It's all fun and games until two towns in your home state get wiped off the map! RIP, Henryville. I can't find the name of the other town in the news sites. 


I read a USA Today story about one couple's canceled checks. The couple from Chelsea, IN died, and their canceled checks were blowing into yards in Cincinnati. Ugh. 


Here's a line that I stole from RTV6, "The Indy Channel:"


"The Federal Emergency Management Agency will get a firsthand look at the devastation left behind in Clark County, assessing tornado damage to determine whether the area will be eligible for federal aid.'


Stay classy, FEMA! Here's a story about the local volunteers helping the victims. What's the point of this post? I suppose it's to remind myself and my five loyal readers that the apocalypse comes for each of us when we are least expecting it, and sometimes in the weirdest possible way. 


I was busy "teaching" 6th grade girls' PE (don't ask) on Friday when I received a text message from Jodi in Indianapolis: "Well all of the kids are hunkered down because we have a tornado warning." Later, she elaborated: "We dismissed 20 minutes late to let the storm pass. I feel bad for the kids because they were 'in the position' for 30 minutes." I can't imagine being in duck-and-cover that long.


I do, however, think I got a taste of what Indianapolis saw on Friday as I was wrestling my car to keep it on the road during my 20-mile commute today. My first sign that something was a little off came as I exited the school building to get two eyefulls, two nostrilsfull and one mouthful of desert sand. As I turned out of the school parking lot, visibility was about 1/4 mile and the road was obscured by the same sand blowing across. Palm trees were bent in half. As I turned onto Nellis, cardboard boxes were blowing across the road and dogs were running for their lives. Two of my preset radio stations blinked out, and I can only assume that their towers blew down. Finally, during the last five miles, I was dodging large sheets of aluminum siding blowing over the wall from the neighborhood next to Vegas Valley. 


I'm not trying to say I have any idea what it's like to be a resident of Henryville right now. I'm just saying I was wondering about my disaster preparedness kit and whether it would get me through the next few days on the off chance that my school blew away. Have I practiced the preaching I ripped off from Anderson Cooper? Only I can be the judge of that, but after reading the stories, it seems like I still have a long way to go. 


Every day, I show my Explorations students CNN Student News, in a move I ripped off from John Faulds and Kathryn James jointly. Yesterday's transcript reflects an interview with Ohio governor John Kasich, who had this to say: "The fact of the matter is, people that live here are resilient, God fearing. They`re tough and we`re knocked down but not we`re knocked out."


A woman the transcript identifies only as, "unidentified female" had this to say; 
"Got a lot of good friends. We still got our family. What more can we ask for?"


Best of luck to the people in the flattened parts of Indiana, Ohio and Kentucky as they rebuild their lives after their own real-life apocalypse.