The Dark Ice Cream Cone That Tore Down My Home

How do you like your ice-cream…?

I love vanilla ice cream with sprinkles.

However, I do not like dark ice cream derived from debris —accompanied by winds that wrinkle.

The sight of chocolate ice cream triggers my childhood trauma.

Because, it was a dark cylindrical cone that tore down my home, as I had to hurry to the storm cellar without my pet kitten — Ujamma.

Several months before the storm, she was a gift that was given to me by my grandmama. They didn’t celebrate Christmas but being that I grew up being told the traditional story of Santa by my parents, she bought her as a gift for me on Kwanzaa.

I eventually overcame Ujamma’s death later during my teenage years. Living without Ujamaa during my childhood years is like Michelle without Barack Obama.

One day during my childhood, I visited a relative in Oklahoma.

I was outside enjoying the scent of the fresh air. It had a distinct aroma.

My uncle yelled come inside boys. I thought is was time for dinner.

We went inside and looked at the TV. My aunt was watching the weather channel. The NOAA issued a Tornado Watch. They stated some areas can see Tornadoes as wide as a mile from its base to its center.

Suddenly, our lights flickered.

Winds howled as they were once subtle whispers.

My uncle desperately yelled “everyone down to the underground cellar”.

This wasn’t the typical underground cellar, it was stellar.

He has a bunch of high tech electronics. No one ever knew what my uncle did for a living. Not even my aunt. When asked, he refused to tell her.

There were cameras and screens we could view, as we watched the dust spin like a propeller.

Huge trees became splinters.

Brick homes became aerial canopies.

The storm was an archival calamity.

It not only damaged dwelling structures but it also impacted infrastructure —

causing business owners to financially suffer.

Amongst many survivors was my uncle, my aunt, my siblings, and me. Many remain lost, and deceased due to the debris.

Let’s rewind back—back before people were slain, before material gain became debris, before mother-nature became untamed, and way before the storm came.

I heard a noise that sounded like a freight train.

Fear festered my veins as drizzles progressed into torrential rains.

The crackling of trees sounded like the breaking of humongous bones.

It was like listening to the sound of Babe Ruth’s bat through headphones.

There was an abundance of clouds spinning like the dial of a rotary phone.

I prayed vigorously. Miraculously, the funnel just jabbed our home. Luckily, structural damage was the only thing our home sustained.

After the storm, I exited the storm cellar —gazing at the air with a profound stare; the city looked like a Hiroshima and Nagasaki bomb zone.

Many were missing and declared deceased.

There was a breach of peace after the storm ceased.

Fish died. Pets died. Farm animals lie motionless on the very grass they eat.

I watched a dog hover over her motionless puppy as it weeped.

Evidently, Mother Nature suffered its own casualties as well as mankind’s deceased.

As for me my pet was deceased. Nothing was left of Ujamaa except my Reebok shoebox- which was her favorite place to sleep.

Till this day, this is an antique of remembrance I chose to keep.

The deceased will always be remembered, as well as the injured, and the victims who had their homes dismembered.

I thank the rescuers and the unknown heroes who didn’t make the headlines; not all heroes wear capes during disastrous times.

I also thank all the weather specialists who issued the warnings and deadlines; we wouldn’t have any survivors, if advisories were not issued ahead of time. On the flip-side, authorities cannot be held accountable for people who intentionally fail to adhere to the signs.

I commend all survivors who have survived these disasters derived from the skies,

whether it was EF 0, or EF5.

The emotional damage may preside, but I am greatful that I am still alive.

The damaged accrued did not put me in a melancholy mood. Because structural damage can always be replaced and renewed.

Tornadoes are just one many disasters that raise death tolls, as well as accumulating devastating bills.

We constantly exercise preparedness through tornado and disaster drills

but, no one really knows what to expect until we are faced with this unpredictable cone that I characterize as a disaster on wheels.

We also seem to be more focused on the murders amongst ourselves instead of revealing the statistics of how many lives Mother Nature kills.

If I shall experience another moment of natures fury,

I will pray, letting God be the judge —as his angels rest in the jury.

And if my number is called amongst the many whose days are numbered, I will embrace my epitaph.

I shall then dwell in the house of the lord —a heavenly home that cannot reached, even if this dark ice cream cone was taller than a giraffe.