Once a classmate and I were talking as she read a portion of my “biography” for a class assignment. When she read that I had written about the frequent storms that we were in, she said, “I don’t remember a lot of storms like what you’re talking about here.” I told her that it was true, and that it could have been because we lived a good five or more miles from each other and in the area where I lived, it did storm.
Jacqueline lived in Hope, and doesn’t remember much stormy weather. Why were there more storms near Patmos than Hope? I have no idea, but my older siblings and I do remember bad weather.
On that note, I remember that when I lived in Atlanta, one day my niece was suppose to fly out of Hartsfield airport back to New York. Well, where I lived, it stormed. That evening I asked my sister if her daughter was able to catch her flight. She asked me why? I said, because of the storm. She said, it didn’t storm over here where we are. They lived in College Park (Atlanta) near the airport. I was several miles away, and it had stormed in our area. So, I guess a few mile-span or a certain geographical location can make a difference in when and where storms strike. It appears that a storm travels a certain, undetermined and erratic path, and it’s obvious that even a one-mile span in location can make a difference as to whether or not you’re impacted by this devastating, roaring lion.
Now, back to Patmos. Usually, storms came during the night when we were all asleep. My dad would wake us up and tell us to get up and get dressed … I don’t know why. Anyway, sometimes, the storms would come during the day, but I think they were more frequent at night. Can any meteorologists tell me why this may be true?
When the storms came in the daytime, we’d stand in the door to see which way it would go, hoping it wouldn’t tear the rest of our raggedy house down.
But one night, apparently, we slept through this one, because when we awoke, it was obvious it had stormed. Wet was everywhere, but the day had dawned bright and clear with no obvious signs other than everything being saturated with water. About that time, someone looked out the eastern window and screamed, “Yall come here and look.” We ran to the window and peeped outside.
Before the storm, there was one of the biggest oak trees I’ve ever seen in my life. Well, that morning, lying parallel to our house was that defeated monster. The strong, powerful winds from that “twister” had uprooted that big baby and it was lying mortally wounded on its side. I don’t know what anybody else was thinking, but I just stood there in amazement, thanking God that the tree fell in the direction that it did. If it had fallen to the west, not one family member would have been alive to witness the downfall of that mighty giant. Our neighbors would have been the only witnesses, but thank God the wind placed Mr. Big Tree in the other direction … and, yes, I do believe in angels!
