Stories from the April 16, 1998 Tornado

On the day of the tornado, as pieces of metal and wood were flying around my downtown office, it occurred to me that the tornado, having come from the West down Charlotte, might head to East Nashville. I called my home on 16th Street repeatedly, and, finally, a sleepy Ruth, who had been taking a nap with my son, Will, and daughter, Sylvie, answered the phone. Told of the storm, she gathered the children and began to head downstairs when the phone rang again. It was my father, who knew nothing of the weather, calling to check in. He thought it odd and somewhat impolite when his daughter in law said "hi, John - got to go," and hung up.

As Ruth got to the top of the stairs, the house began to shake. She ran with the kids down two flights, arriving in the basement to watch a four foot thick Hackberry tree topple into the backyard. The basement, which is half above ground level, filled with swirling dust as she held our children against the dirt floor and prayed that they not be sucked away. Will, age 3, kept asking "what is this?", to which his mother frantically answered, "a tornado!". The roar of the storm was so loud it left Ruth with a ringing in her ears for weeks thereafter.

As happens with tornados, it was over very quickly, leaving Ruth, Will and Sylvie covered with dust. They emerged from the basement to see our neighborhood torn apart and covered with debris.

Will looked up at his mother and said, "Mommy, I don't like these Tomatoes."

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