Seven years ago, Tiny Town was hit by a tornado at 10:22 p.m. Only one person was killed--a former student; however, several others would never be the same. The next days, weeks, and months were dreadful. There were days and weeks of clean up. I still have arthritis in my hands--and often wonder how much asbestos we teachers inhaled while cleaning up the schools. For months after, we mourned the loss of life, of trees, old homes, schools, and churches.
Seven years later, there are new homes, new schools, and new church buildings. I rarely think of the devastation of that night. I enjoy the way the town looks today--the progress we have made. I will never get used to the lack of trees, but now my eyes focus on yards and flowers and porches. I teach in a beautiful new school and love it, but as my colleague retired this year I have spent more time thinking about our old school and the memories that were made there.
Seven years. There have been so many changes in so many ways. I think sometimes if I didn't take the time to look back, I would forget how far we have come.