An eerie silence hung over the neighborhood. Just moments ago the tornado sirens were blaring, the wind howling, the storm approaching. Like others the neighborhood, my parents and I gathered with our dog in the innermost closet of the house.
Minutes later, we were outside, on our powerless street, talking to our neighbors about how such a storm could have possibly left our houses unscathed. The next morning, my dad walked around the neighborhood and came home to tell us there was serious destruction just a few streets north of us. I started reaching out to classmates in the area to check in on their safety and homes, while also receiving notes from friends and family who wanted to make sure we were OK.
In the next few days, my grandparents came to stay with us, and I distinctly remember walking around the neighborhood with my grandmother, seeing the full extent of the damage for the first time. Walking further north, the lush, beautiful trees that had once stood in people’s yards had been reduced to mangled heaps of limbs. Looking to my left and right, it was as if the sky had grown in size, or at least that’s what it felt like with no towering canopy of trees over the street. Many houses were compromised beyond repair. Debris filled the street. I could even see large, disfigured sheets of copper, which I had a bad feeling originated from the school campus—we were over a mile away at the time. Power lines had been thrown about, sprawling across the ground. We made our way to Royal Lane and walked up toward Preston Road. Without a car in sight, the intersection looked like a scene out of a war zone. The tornado directly hit the southwest corner of the shopping center. Everything was in disarray. We took a left on Preston and then headed straight for the school. I immediately knew something was awry when I could see Nearburg from the northwest corner of campus. The dozens of trees that would normally obstruct my view were no longer standing.
Making our way eastbound down Orchid Lane, my grandmother and I ran into familiar faces sharing the same bewilderment that consumed the two of us. Tears were shed.
It was then that I realized what the tornado had truly done to the local community. Walking back to our house through the same tornado-stricken streets, I started to see through the destruction. I saw homeowners outside cleaning up debris. I saw high school students going from door to door offering to help in any way they could. I saw neighbors helping neighbors. I saw people coming together.
As a seventh grader, I don’t think I realized the impact the tornado would have on my St. Mark’s experience. From navigating changes on campus to athletics, parking and beyond, we are constantly reminded of the storm that tore through our community. Yet the tornado brought us closer together than ever before. The resilience and camaraderie over the last five years is a testament to the strength of our community.
New homes have been built. The Zierk Athletic Complex will open its doors in a few short months. New trees have been planted, growing taller by the day. While the tornado left its scars, we continue to move forward. Together.
