Hail and High Water

Our neighborhood was among those that got pounded by the hail last week. As you probably know, there were dozens of homes and hundred of cars that received significant damage, and even a number of people who were seriously injured.

But it wasn’t all bad.

The storm itself was rather freakish. This wasn’t one of those clouds where the TV weather guys are tracking it for hours and monitoring its progress; it blew up over Haskell County, intensified as it headed south over Jones County, and then arrived. I was watching Sam, and the first warnings I heard came about 30 minutes before it got here. Enough time to take cover, certainly, but still, there were a LOT of people caught by surprise.

The size was the hail was stunning. Tennis ball and baseball was common; a lot of what fell was the size of softballs, grapefruit, and even CDs. You can look at the holes it punched through car windows and tell it was monstrous. And the duration was even scarier – this wasn’t a typical thunderstorm where it hails for a minute and a half. This went on. And on. Fifteen minutes or more at my house. The hail pounding the house sounded like gunfire.

One of our cars was under the carport, and it wasn’t damaged. But another one will likely be totaled. Our son Travis’ car had the back window shattered; our other son, Drew, was at work downtown and had several windows on his pickup smashed. We also had several windows here at the house broken, and we received significant roof damage.

It wasn’t just us. Nearly all of our neighbors received as much, or more damage, than we did. In addition, the North Park Friendship House was hit harder than us, with holes actually punched through the roof. The Valley View Friendship House had some damage, and their community garden was beaten back into the ground.

And yet, I’m thankful.

Right after the storm, we were going through the neighborhood, checking on folks, and we found lots of neighbors out doing the same thing. Neighbors looking after neighbors. “Are you okay?” “Was anyone hurt?” We found one neighbor with a bruised face and a black eye at another neighbor’s house; she had been out walking when the storm hit, and was struck in the face by a hailstone. The neighbor brought her into his house; he and his wife helped her and they waited out the storm together.

Other neighbors were sharing lumber, tools, tarps, plastic. Folks were digging out bungee cords to strap down tarps over cars. There was a run on duct tape. People were out in their yards, talking with each other, thankful to have made it through, and looking for ways to help.

Something about going through the storm as neighbors – the shared experience of surviving huge chunks of ice pummeling your house at 125 mph – actually brought people together. Even as the sun came out and a giant rainbow appeared, people were already beginning to clean up, visiting with each other and helping one another. Family members and friends from other parts of town began showing up, bringing food, supplies and helping hands.

As you drive through the neighborhood today, there’s still plenty of visible damage. My yard still has holes punched all in it, two and three inches wide and a couple of inches deep. The streets are covered in white speckles, evidence of the amount and intensity of the hail strikes. There are still lots of tarps and plastic covering broken windows, and you can see cars all over town with shattered windshields. I’m concerned for the friends who don’t have insurance, and don’t know how they will get the economic resources to get back on their feet. It will be months before most of the damage is repaired, and the economic toll will certainly run into the millions.

But it’s good to see neighbors working together, talking with one another and helping others. It’s good to see people sharing concern as they share duct tape. The bond of going through this storm together is real, and I hope it lasts.

I’m just sorry we had to get hit over the head to make it happen.