If there’s one thing that’ll get the Lizard Brain going… it’s the only time I’ve ever felt like something deeper was telling my brain that we had to get the fuck out of here.
Very much had this a couple years ago in KY. I was totally planning on driving through and hoping that the storm wasn’t gonna roll through where I was working, but when I got back to the car and saw just how fucking green the sky was, something inside me said “hey how about we listen to the nice security guard who’s offering shelter in the plant”.
Tornado didn’t even come close to me (about 20 miles south), but it was a wild as fuck storm.
Mine was a bit farther back… would be measured in decades ago, I may turn to dust shortly, but maybe same area. It’s crazy how much the strength of tornadoes ramps up on the western half of the state.
I live close enough to Jarrell to have made some friends who grew up nearby and went to help clean up. Jarrell stories help sober the perspective whenever I’m weighing what chances are worth taking.
When I was young I watched a tornado dip down and rip the top off a cotton-wood tree just to lift it back into the sky like it was having a snack. Next day we found out it had come down half a mile away and crushed 3 cows.
There’s an odd greenish haze in the sky that I’ve never seen a camera properly capture and you don’t just hear the sound of the tornado with your ears, you can feel it in your bones first. All of those tiny hairs all across your body, it’s almost like they have an electric charge. When it gets close, the air gets odd and it starts to feel like there’s suddenly not enough of it.
Rationally, it’s a lot of contributing factors getting amped up by the biggest adrenaline rush you’ve ever had. It was my first season after moving a bit farther west than I’d ever been and I felt like I opened the front door to find myself within 100 feet of the thing, but it is hard to trust yourself to look back on something like that with a scientific mind. The feeling I got didn’t even feel like fear, it was just a feeling of ‘have to go’ and I’ve never felt it again. For the actual situation, everything my body was telling me was worthless and nothing I could have done would have done any good if my luck had failed me, but the Tornado was just passing by on it’s way to somewhere else.
This is exactly the feeling. Went through a tornado when I lived in the midwest. It hit two streets over, just missing us. The sirens were going off but we were teenagers and still hanging out on the couch, parents were out. There were a ton of storms growing up where the sirens went off so we were a little desensitized.
Suddenly just knew it was time to go, something was here. Don’t know how else to describe it, the air changes, it’s like the vibrations change in the wind, or a sound that’s too deep to hear. Can’t say exactly, but I still remember the feeling of move now. We all just bolted at the same time and ran to the basement.
Ignored the Tornado warning, shouldn’t have.
If there’s one thing that’ll get the Lizard Brain going… it’s the only time I’ve ever felt like something deeper was telling my brain that we had to get the fuck out of here.
Very much had this a couple years ago in KY. I was totally planning on driving through and hoping that the storm wasn’t gonna roll through where I was working, but when I got back to the car and saw just how fucking green the sky was, something inside me said “hey how about we listen to the nice security guard who’s offering shelter in the plant”.
Tornado didn’t even come close to me (about 20 miles south), but it was a wild as fuck storm.
Mine was a bit farther back… would be measured in decades ago, I may turn to dust shortly, but maybe same area. It’s crazy how much the strength of tornadoes ramps up on the western half of the state.
I live close enough to Jarrell to have made some friends who grew up nearby and went to help clean up. Jarrell stories help sober the perspective whenever I’m weighing what chances are worth taking.
When I was young I watched a tornado dip down and rip the top off a cotton-wood tree just to lift it back into the sky like it was having a snack. Next day we found out it had come down half a mile away and crushed 3 cows.
Tornadoes are something else.
Dude… Tell the whole story. It sounds interesting.
There’s an odd greenish haze in the sky that I’ve never seen a camera properly capture and you don’t just hear the sound of the tornado with your ears, you can feel it in your bones first. All of those tiny hairs all across your body, it’s almost like they have an electric charge. When it gets close, the air gets odd and it starts to feel like there’s suddenly not enough of it.
Rationally, it’s a lot of contributing factors getting amped up by the biggest adrenaline rush you’ve ever had. It was my first season after moving a bit farther west than I’d ever been and I felt like I opened the front door to find myself within 100 feet of the thing, but it is hard to trust yourself to look back on something like that with a scientific mind. The feeling I got didn’t even feel like fear, it was just a feeling of ‘have to go’ and I’ve never felt it again. For the actual situation, everything my body was telling me was worthless and nothing I could have done would have done any good if my luck had failed me, but the Tornado was just passing by on it’s way to somewhere else.
This is exactly the feeling. Went through a tornado when I lived in the midwest. It hit two streets over, just missing us. The sirens were going off but we were teenagers and still hanging out on the couch, parents were out. There were a ton of storms growing up where the sirens went off so we were a little desensitized.
Suddenly just knew it was time to go, something was here. Don’t know how else to describe it, the air changes, it’s like the vibrations change in the wind, or a sound that’s too deep to hear. Can’t say exactly, but I still remember the feeling of move now. We all just bolted at the same time and ran to the basement.