I
tried a couple of times to reach Kinley, but I got a busy signal. I headed that
way. When I got to the door, I saw a bright, sunny day outside. But Arkadelphia
was pink. The town was covered with pink insulation. The trailer was also on my
car out front, and the front door was a hard squeeze. A car in the street had a
ton of bricks on top of it, but I could see nobody inside. I just cannot
describe the town, and do it justice. Buildings everywhere were in rubble.
Dazed, silent people were beginning to emerge. Screams from trapped individuals
were coming from all directions. A couple of hundred yards down the street, the
large brick shoestore was just a pile of rubble in the street, and amazingly,
people were beginning to emerge from the rubble. I headed down the street
toward Kinley's house.
Half
a mile down the street when the tornado hit, Kinley was still in her closet,
sitting cross legged on the floor, Spankey in her lap, a pillow on her head.
Only that small portion of her wooden house she was in remained on the site.
The rest, except for scraps here and there, was blown to who knows where. As
the old, very heavy wooden walls collapsed on Kinley, and old chimney that we
knew nothing about, that was in that wall fell apart, bricks raining on her
head, which was covered by her pillow. A large chunk of the chimney fell beside
her, and as the walls fell on her, forcing her face into the dirt, that chunk
of the brick chimney held a small portion up slightly, just enough. As her
adrenalin rush hit, she was able to rise up slightly. A woman she didn't know
helped dig her out. The first thing she saw in her yard was our business sign, Barbara's Photography. She headed up to
the studio, accompanied by the woman who helped her, And Spankey.
When I
got a couple of blocks down the street, I saw her. She was coming up the
street, Spanky in her arms, being escorted by an Angel. No, I'm not speaking figuratively, I'm dead serious. This
woman beside her had, I later found out, helped dig her out. She had told
Kinley she lived across the street, but neither of us had ever seen her before.
As Kinley and I ran to each other, hugged and cried, the Angel was smiling. We looked around, and she was gone. We've
never seen her again. To Kinley and I, she will forever be her Angel.
Kinley seemed to be all right, and so was Spanky. I led her to a clear
space in the street, and told her to not dare move from that spot. I had to try
and help some of the screaming, trapped people.
I
found a wrecked building with a woman inside. I talked to her. Yes, she was OK,
but could not get out. I heard a scream nearby, different from the others. It
was filled with total agony. I found out
later it came from a young man who had just found his mother's body.
As I
started moving boards, to try to help this trapped woman, a strange thing
happened. A squad of fully dressed National Guardsmen, complete with camo on their
faces, moved into my area. How could they be here already? We were 10 minutes
into this thing, yet here they were. I later learned they were returning from a
drill, and had to take cover on the edge of the tornado, just as it hit.
Anyway, their leader told me to step aside, they would get the woman out. They
formed a line, and started moving the boards, one by one. Later, I never had a
chance to tell the trapped woman that I didn't just desert her. I've always
felt bad about that. As I worked my way back toward Kinley, I saw a man. A
merchant. He had cleared out a little spot beside his door, and was standing
fast. He was later declared one of the
heroes of the tornado, and maybe he was. I only saw him for a moment, and no
telling how many people he rescued before or later. But when I saw him, at that
moment in time, he was just guarding his
stuff.
The
alarms were going off at all the banks. I never knew if any unofficial
withdrawals were made that day, but I do know of hundred dollar bills being found nearby.
When
I got back to Kinley, the excitement was beginning to wear off, and she was not
feeling good. I had to find help. I saw a police car in the distance, finally
got him as close to Kinley as I could, and loaded her aboard. He said he would take her to the hospital.
She was finally moved on to Hot Springs, because our hospital was overflowing.
I later caught it, full force, from wife Barbara, for not going with her. I
should have. But I reasoned at the time I was needed more here.
Walking up the street, I saw a strange thing. A unit of national
guardsmen were marching down the streeet, in perfect order. At each
intersection, the leader halted them, one went forward into the intersection, and
held up his hand. First up the street, then down, to halt traffic. Well, the
streets were full of wreckage, and there would be no traffic on them that day.
Oh well, I guess if you ain't got discipline, you ain't got nothin'.
A
renter, in one of my duplexes a mile away, called me. The front half of the
building had been smashed to the floor. His mama was having a heart attack, and
the lady from next door was out in the street, wandering about. I told him I
was afoot, and could not get there. Call 911.
After a very long time, it seemed to me, rescue people began to arrive,
and take over. I realize now, they got there very quickly, everything
considered. But it seemed like forever at the time. I had no idea of the scope
of this thing. Help was needed all over.
The
police moved in, full force, and secured the buildings. I talked an officer
into letting me go into our building and
get our cameras and money, while he watched me like a hawk. About that
time, Barbara and son Corey were arrriving. They told me Kinley had been moved
to Hot Springs. Her back was injured. Since she was sitting cross legged,
indian style, the doc said if she had been pushed down another couple of
inches, it would have done her in. The large chunk of chimney, holding the
walls up a little, saved her.The monster F-4 had to be at least a half mile
wide. We went to where Kinley was.
The
next day, it was raining. Mrs. Lois Barksdale, Mickey's Grandmother, along with
my family, had mobilized a crew to help salvage what was left at their house.
The town was shut down, tighter than a drum. We need in, but only rescue
personell were allowed. I found an old Red Cross shirt, and led our caravan to
the roadblock. "They're with me," I told the cop. He looked at my Red
Cross shirt, and waved us in. Sometimes, you just do what you gotta do.
CONTINUED - Thanks for your time, and your attention.
CONTINUED - Thanks for your time, and your attention.
No comments:
Post a Comment