I was relieved when the tornadoes that marched through Missouri and Illinois took few lives last week. My relief was short lived as I watched in horror as an unbelievable number of tornadoes swallowed everything in their paths. This time hundreds of people were killed in the South.
This morning came the news of rivers rising beyond flood levels in Illinois and Missouri, not to mention the flooding last week in the Midwest.
I would have liked to close out April with a lovely story, or relate an interesting encounter or even write about a humorous situation. Instead the weather has me, along with many others fixed on it.
We have always challenged or treated the weather with benevolent tolerance even though it is a power which we need to better understand and treat as seriously as other systems that threaten our security.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
PASSOVER, EASTER AND TORNADOES
Nature demonstrated her might as we ushered in Springtime. She stirred up the seas and oceans to create record breaking storms and dismissed our best efforts to control her.
Families gathered together around the world to retell centuries-old religious stories. Here in St. Louis, the rains brought hail of grotesque sizes that bounced off pavements and porches, much to the delight of children.
Our first night Passover Seder was attended by 27 family, friends and seven University students some of whom will graduate in May. We recited the night-long ancient story as we lent our voices in song and discussed each other's views.
Tornado sirens half-way through the Second night Seder forced participants to continue in cellars even though the tornado was a no show in St. Louis. For me, the cellar served as a reminder of other times when people gathered there for safety not from nature but because of a difference in beliefs.
Three days later as the calendar marched toward Easter, thunder storms, furious winds, and incredibly beautiful lighting against the night sky announced the approach of tornadoes.
Terminals in the St. Louis Airport were destroyed. Homes in a cul-de-sac in one neighborhood were flattened as if in one sweeping gesture. Other homes, barns, businesses, schools, houses of worship, and trees in the tornado's path were demolished in a matter of minutes through the night. In areas not hit directly, the roar of the tornado was heard from miles away as it advanced toward Illinois.
When all was still, at day break people emerged from sheltered areas to view piles of lumber, emptiness where once stood a structure, cars flung about and great trucks turned upside down amid vast destruction.
On Easter Sunday, people darted under umbrellas as they entered the Great Cathedral of St. Louis for Easter Sunday Services. Some people were grateful their areas were not hit. Still others wondered how to regain a sense of stability now that all was gone. And in spite of everything, children ran to splash in puddles.
Which ever holiday we celebrated, and for those who celebrated none, we are all grateful that no life was lost, for the willingness of friends and neighbors to help those who did lose much, and for the human ability to acknowledge and respect the mighty force of nature.
Families gathered together around the world to retell centuries-old religious stories. Here in St. Louis, the rains brought hail of grotesque sizes that bounced off pavements and porches, much to the delight of children.
Our first night Passover Seder was attended by 27 family, friends and seven University students some of whom will graduate in May. We recited the night-long ancient story as we lent our voices in song and discussed each other's views.
Tornado sirens half-way through the Second night Seder forced participants to continue in cellars even though the tornado was a no show in St. Louis. For me, the cellar served as a reminder of other times when people gathered there for safety not from nature but because of a difference in beliefs.
Three days later as the calendar marched toward Easter, thunder storms, furious winds, and incredibly beautiful lighting against the night sky announced the approach of tornadoes.
Terminals in the St. Louis Airport were destroyed. Homes in a cul-de-sac in one neighborhood were flattened as if in one sweeping gesture. Other homes, barns, businesses, schools, houses of worship, and trees in the tornado's path were demolished in a matter of minutes through the night. In areas not hit directly, the roar of the tornado was heard from miles away as it advanced toward Illinois.
When all was still, at day break people emerged from sheltered areas to view piles of lumber, emptiness where once stood a structure, cars flung about and great trucks turned upside down amid vast destruction.
On Easter Sunday, people darted under umbrellas as they entered the Great Cathedral of St. Louis for Easter Sunday Services. Some people were grateful their areas were not hit. Still others wondered how to regain a sense of stability now that all was gone. And in spite of everything, children ran to splash in puddles.
Which ever holiday we celebrated, and for those who celebrated none, we are all grateful that no life was lost, for the willingness of friends and neighbors to help those who did lose much, and for the human ability to acknowledge and respect the mighty force of nature.
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