I was in town when the storm came. I remember exactly where I was. Right on the edge of the town. Where the country meets city, and the city, country. I was walking into the diner, but I paused for a moment to take in my home. The only place I'd ever known. John and Mary Fields and James and Molly Brewer were standing there when out of nowhere the sky became nearly pitch dark.

The wind started to whip, the dust started to swirl. It quickly began to make my eyes sting as if I had a million needles flying at me all at once. I watched The Fields and the Brewers look up sharply as I walked towards them, head bent against the force of the wind, and I was just close enough to see their eyes widen before they frantically led the horses away. That was the last I would see of those horses. And them. I watched them head into the diner, but after 57 years of life as a farmer, weathered by many storms, I knew that wasn't safe. Not when the incoming clouds were a green-black color. I began to run, knowing many would be oblivious to the danger of this storm as they relaxed in the diner and bar, yelling "Twister!" as I went but the wind was blowing my voice away with the strength of a gale at sea.

That's when I saw them. The clouds. Spiraling above me. Above the town. In that moment I ran faster than I ever had before or ever will again. Not towards the diner, like a hero, but towards the General Store's root cellar. I climbed inside and latched the lid. It wasn't a tornado shelter, but it was close.

The time I spent in there during the storm must've been minutes but it felt like hours. I tried to emerge when I heard the wind stop howling but there was something on the cellar door. I began to yell but I heard nothing. No signs of life. Dread filled my bones and I found myself weak at the knees and I sat down. Never in my life have I felt that kind of dread from a storm and I hope I never will again.

Hours later I heard the sound of horses hooves pounding as they galloped above me and slowed. I started to yell once again. I heard someone yell they'd get me out soon and then a, "1, 2, 3," and soon I was blinded by the most welcome light I've ever seen shining through. The first thing I noticed as I climbed the steps was the neon, cloudless blue sky, a stark contrast to the devastation I took in around me. Anything left and not scattered around was rubble. It seemed as if the tornado had gone straight down the row of buildings. I was one of the few in that alley it had traveled that survived that day.

I will never forget that day, the lives that were lost, or the picture. The picture imprinted in my mind where I paused, in that moment of calm before the storm, to take a deep breath and take in my home. That would never be like it was again.