Sunday, Oct. 20, 2019 — The world outside holds its breath. In this suspended moment, we wait.
Huddled in our bathroom, bike helmets donned, my family presses close. The weatherman’s stern voice blares through the TV speakers. His words fall heavy: “Seek shelter immediately.” We cling to each other and whisper a prayer.
The TV screen flickers its last warning before darkness engulfs us. In the silence that follows, nature unleashes its fury, hurling debris against our house from every direction like a relentless attacker.
Two hours stretch into an eternity. We endure in terrified silence, frantically attempting to contact friends and neighbors. When the tornado finally passes, leaving an eerie calm in its wake, our community has been upturned.
My phone erupts with messages and photos, each one more shocking than the last.
The grand trees on Orchid Lane that witnessed generations of Marksmen grow — a cornerstone of our school’s landscape — lie uprooted. School buses rest like fallen giants in classmates’ yards, hurled hundreds of feet from their parking spots. Amidst it all, desperate cries for help come from classmates I had joked with just days ago.
I felt numb as I lay in my bed that night, thinking of the friends I had almost lost, too nervous and anxious to sleep.
I just wanted things to go back to normal.
The next day, I step onto a campus I no longer recognize. Where I expected the comfort of Mrs. Davis’ Lego city and Mr. Smith’s colorful kilt, I find devastation.
Hicks Gym, where we cheered and celebrated countless victories, now stands with a gaping hole in its side.
My absence of uniform — no white oxford shirt, grey shorts, white socks or black shoes — makes me feel incomplete.
All the devastating photos and messages couldn’t convey the significance of what happened: it had taken a toll on not just our campus, but our community.
Yet, in this moment of utter despair, I felt hope.
I watched as my fellow Marksmen, alongside students from Hockaday and Greenhill, poured onto campus to help clean up and restore.
The lines between schools, so often drawn in competition, blurred as we worked side by side.
St. Mark’s families rallied, offering aid and comfort. Students cleared debris and delivered supplies. In the face of adversity, we responded with unwavering kindness.
The tornado, following so closely on the heels of a global pandemic, could have shattered us. Instead, it revealed the true strength of our community and the bonds between us.
Today, I walk down a reborn Orchid Lane. The young trees, though small, stand tall with promise.
The tornado may have torn through our campus, but it forged our community into something stronger, more compassionate, and unbreakable. In our darkest hour, we discovered the light within each other—a light that will guide future generations of Marksmen through whatever storms may come.
