February Tornados and School

Tuesday afternoon we start headed to our buses to pretrip. I'm in the first group to leave at 2:00pm so we can get all of the buses out of the lot and up to Hefner Middle School before they let those students loose at 2:30.

It was beautiful outside. The weather wasn't too chilly and it was dry. We'd only been out of the lot for two minutes when the director comes over the two-way radio stating, "There is a Tornado Watch but we'll keep you informed so you just need to keep the airways clear and don't call in for weather updates."

I was a little surprised. I had no idea there were weather concerns. I hadn't watched television or heard the radio since 8:30 that morning.

We kept driving another 4-5 miles North and all filed into the parking lot. We only got about one-third of the buses in line when the tornado sirens started blowing. "Okay, that's it. I'm ready to go home," states one tired, black, female driver named Lynda.

The director comes over the airways again, "I need for the buses at the schools to turn off their bus, take their keys and go into the school at this time."

What?

Then it started to sprinkle. I got off the bus and laughed sarcastically. This is ridiculous I thought to myself. Then I waved to Lynda to get off her bus and come inside with me. She told me to go on she was staying on her bus. She wasn't, she just likes to throw a fit. I laughed.

A few of us got the attention of a school official, probably a teacher but I wasn't positive of who he was, and asked him to let us inside. We told him that we were directed to enter the school and that more buses were on their way.

Five of us went a few yards into the school and planted on some seats in the cafeteria. It wasn't a few minutes until another teacher, a blonde, thin woman, comes running down the hall yelling out orders. I looked at Lynda and she said, "She's the first one I'm putting outside when this thing hits." I laughed, only because I know she's full of it and I seriously think she's pretty funny.

Another teacher came down the hall and we all rolled our eyes because we knew what was next. Yep! "Ya'll need to come down here, away from that door. Can I get ya'll to step into the restrooms?" Oh, great. I needed to go to the bathroom and then I could have a seat during this whole ordeal. Woo hoo! Uh, nope! She filed all of us into the Ladies Restroom. I asked if the men could go into the Men's Restroom but was told, "No, it's too dirty. The women's restroom is so much nicer." BLAH! I slowed down and let about 12 other's go in front of me so that I could linger out in the hall with a few others. It worked. Lynda and I decided to go right across from the restroom and sit on the steps of this large stairway. We sat there for about ten minutes before the teachers with the walkie talkies came and made us go into the restroom with the others. They informed us that a tornado had just touched down and blew off the roof at Chuck E Cheese and that we "needed to get down on the floor in the tornado position." Do you remember that position from school. It's where you get on your knees facing the wall and put your head between your knees with your fingers locked behind your neck and your elbows pulled down to your knees. Sounds comfortable, huh? Uh, that's a big no!

Lynda and I looked at each other then looked down the hall. As the teachers walked on to direct others, we walked back to the stairs and had our seat.

First of all, I wasn't doing that position for any reason. I can see the headlines now. Tornado injures one from school. She wouldn't perform the "tornado position" on the women's bathroom floor. I'm sorry but what exactly were my odds. In my mind, my odds were 1% of the tornado hitting the school and 99% that it would take my back a week to recover from even getting on the floor in that bathroom. Needless to say, it didn't happen. Either one.

I won't bother you with the rest of my longest day ever. But you know your days only going to get better after you get out of the Ladies Restroom with over 12 of your co-workers. Some you like, some you don't and some you just try to tolerate.

Thank you, Jesus, for keeping us safe in the midst of the storm.