Disaster movies can be a great way of escaping into some good old fashioned mindless fun for a couple of hours. Chilling on the sofa or relaxing upon the couch. It's good to know we're safe within our snug boundaries of reality, watching from afar as chaos ensues on the big screen. Well, ever wondered what it'd really be like to be transported into the thick of the action? Like, in a "first-person perspective" sort of way? Well, imagine no longer for the following describes my personal account of just that.
...The scene presented before me was one of pure carnage and horror. A huge roadside tree that had, up until this morning, remained firmly planted in the ground, and was now uprooted to the point where its mid-section branches were touching the road tarmac. Windows were shattered spanning numerous houses along the street where debris had smashed its way through. I remember a car windscreen which had been completely caved in, though with no trace of the offending object which initially caused the damage. It was total pandemonium. But this opening catastrophic exhibition from hell was only just getting started.
I wandered down the road a little, numb from the shock of what I was witnessing. Families evacuating their homes in floods of tears as the absolute devastation around them, was only just beginning to sink in. A warzone slap bang in the middle of my neighbourhood, created in a matter of seconds. But the true savagery reared its ugly head near toward the end of the road. This particular house was being examined by a gathering crowd of onlookers gawking in astonishment from the sidewalk. A once encapsulated bedroom within, now exposed for the world below to see. Bed, mirror on the wall, pale white wallpaper, high-standing set of cupboards in the corner. Everything on display. The missing section of roof being nowhere to be seen. I simply could not believe my eyes. And I had the hopeless feeling deep inside of me that human casualities (or worse) were the next logical step in all this.
Well, it didn't take long for the once quiet streets of my neighbour to start teeming with activity. News reporters (some of which I actually recognized as regulars from television), camera crews, police and a bevy of inquisitive bystanders. As I returned back to my home in despair of the surrounding destruction, a gentleman approached, bearing a logo I was quite familiar with. Sky News Broadcasting.
"Did you see what happened? I mean, the tornado itself?" I could tell that he didn't see me as another fellow person, just a useful source of information to reign in the scoop of a lifetime. "Sorry, but I just heard it. I never actually saw it." I confessed. He bade me a swift farewell before continuing to scour the thongs of scattered groups for a possible eye-witness to the brief and violent behemoth. For that's what it really was.
A full blown tornado had hit "my" neighbourhood, which for years had been tucked away in an unremarkable, sleepy suburb of London. Though not any longer. For I remember clearly the big-name news channels covering the story. Sky, BBC, CNBC, even CNN. It was a global event that caused ripples throughout the country. And I was there no bare testament to the entire damn thing. God forbid if I had decided to venture out for a quick bite to eat or, worse still, it had been my roof that had decided upon embarking on a trip to find "Dorothy in Kansas". I was so close to meeting the grim reaper and it sends shivers down my spine to this very day.
Well, as the evening trudged on, I saw stuff only possible in the worst of nightmares. Familiar faces who I'd see on a regular basis passing me by on the street, now on the television in my local pub! Talking about how "parts" of their house were missing and they essentially had nowhere to stay. My local pub! On nearly every single national news station! Incredible, but true. And to make matters that much more damning, many had no house insurance policy (or, more specifically, none covering "Acts of God", as they put it). So, in essence, some had to remortgage their homes just to cover the costs of reparation. It was unbelievable, but very much happening in the here and now.
As the months rolled by, we all collectively huddled together to offer support and assistance to those who needed it. This was a true test of the oft remarked upon "community spirit" and I must say the residents certainly lived up to that expectation. Some even used the freak event as an opportunity to refurbish their whole house. Structural rebuilding from the foundations up and all. Time is the greatest healer, as they say. And never has this proved more apt than for the day a tornado decided to cast it's twisted finger of doom opon us all.
No deaths, one minor injury. A tiny miracle unto itself...
