So, the “Tornado of 2008″ has come and gone. It definitely left its mark on Atlanta. I live (I say that loosely because my place might be unlivable upon further review) in a loft in downtown Atlanta - Cabbagetown, for those of you outside Atlanta (and some of you inside who don’t venture outside of Buckhead).
Around 9:00, I got a tornado warning. That led me to our favorite source of information, Al Gore’s Interweb to see what the hell was going on. We had a slight chance of severe weather, no sign of tornadoes. No sooner than I saw that, wind kicked up and the rain & lightning started (looking west). The light show started becoming more and more spectacular with the passing minutes. I started shutting windows to keep my place from turning into a into swimming pool. We might be in for a wild one this evening.
At the moment (about 9:30) when I moved back into my bedroom to close those windows, the power dropped (you know that moment - BAMM! What the Fu…!), I looked out my bedroom window (looking south) and I see the transformer box explode on the telephone pole. Hmmm… should I revert to my “stop, drop, and roll” training (or duck & cover) from elementary school? What happened over the next 5 minutes was strange and unlike anything else I’ve been though (couple hurricanes, blizzard, 9-11, NYC blackout, earthquake). Some people say it sounds like a freight train, I would say it sounds more like a 767 engine right at my window. This massive pitching engine - KCHHHHHHHH!!!! Getting louder and higher pitched as it gets closer - to YOU! I’m feeling the sound right against the window. Praying that a stray 2×4 didn’t take permanent residence in my loft. It looked like someone was stirring a giant mojito with too much mint in it or in an observation room in a swamp. There was so much debris, leaves, branches and trash flying around, and it all was on horizontal paths. I swear I saw a cat, or maybe a small cow. The color was this murky green and mixed with amazing white flashes of light. The building was shaking like a paint mixer at Home Depot.
Then silence. Its gone. Over. With an slight overtone of car alarms. Symphony of Destruction (sorry, couldn’t resist).
The aftermath was madness - just really not sure what to do. I checked on my other 4th floor neighbors, making sure everyone was ok. The biggest surprise was that none of my windows blew out. I did have a couple of them cracked. Looking out into the parking lot was completely covered in debris - wood beams, bricks, trash, and tons of miscellaneous forestry elements. We (my neighbors and I) ventured down to the parking lot, and the first shock was the amount of car windows blown out. Cars were just cracked and shattered. Some of them had bricks in their front seats or on their rear window shelves. The next shock was seeing the top floor of my building, precisely the unit RIGHT above mine. It was now missing its roof. It resembled something out of Ghostbusters - you could see the clear sky through the big windows. I can’t imagine what that must have been like - having your roof ripped off in a brief moment in time.
The next big shock came from looking across the parking lot at building E. There was a HUGE pile of debris where the courtyard used to be and an even larger section of a missing roof. Absolutely shocking. There’s no electricity. All you see are flashlights and all you hear are voices echoing off the walls. Tomorrow morning is going to be weird. All this will be extremely visible. My night continues…
After milling about for 30 minutes, answer mobile calls from local friends, the authorities arrive (police, EMT, AFD) and warn us that another is on the way. Seriously? I head back up to my place and start to take stock in what just happened. Madness. As soon as the short rain subsides (thankfully, no second tornado), I thought my night might be over. Wrong. Heavier rain starts and I start to hear drips. Not just one, “where the hell is that” drip, but multiple drips. Basically, the unit above mine (now sans roof) was now collecting water and funneling it down into my place - it was starting to resemble something like a factory with a faulty sprinkler system. More drips than buckets. I tried moving furniture around - a new form of Feng Sui. We are now trying to save the ship from going down. Its not looking good. I’ve now hit capacity. No more buckets. Rain is coming down harder. The “faucet” is wide open.
I start to play that game - “If your place was on fire, what would you grab?”. When I say play, I mean live. This is now real. The place above me is “gone”. I’m not sure what is next. Is my roof going to cave in? What is the water saturation capacity of the ceiling above. I see the wood start to change color from the drenching water. All I have is a small flashlight and it’s pitch black out. The Chinese water torture sounds are echoing off the walls. People swinging by knocked and stuck their head in - only to hear the new found “cabbagetown reservoir” establishing residence in my place. So, what do you grab? I break it down to the simplest thing - what do you need the most right now, and what is irreplaceable? The winners - computer, camera, insurance info and cell phone charger. Oh, and an umbrella. I think that will work.
So, unharmed, running on adrenaline, and having about a 5% idea of what just happened, I look back and consider myself very lucky. The only injury that I have heard of is Jim, my upstair’s neighbor. His roof decided to fly off. I think he got knocked by a couple bricks. Last I heard, he was on his way to the hospital.
All I need to do is do a bit of clean up to do and organize with the insurance co’s, and we’ll be fine. Its just stuff.
Here’s some pictures
edit: Good news! Jim, who lives above me, is good. His roof is the one that is missing. He took a nasty shot to the head (staples and stitches required) but was all smiles when I saw him on today (Sunday). His place is destroyed and he’ll be out for some time. My story pales in comparison to him. I haven’t heard of any fatalities or major injuries from the other buildings. But again, its just stuff.
Class is in session folks. This is my kind of education.
Couple things to know about me - 1) Love hockey, 2) Love beer, and 3) love hanging out with good people who love items #1 and #2. We have our season tickets to the Atlanta Thrashers (I’m still trying to come up with a good nickname) and manage to make it to a game a couple times a month. Every now and then, you get a bone thrown your way. This past monday was the Thrashers v. Lightning at Phillips, and our wonderful friend Meg (thanks meg!) invited us to the luxury box to enjoy the festivities. Easy decision, scrap our tickets and rub elbows with Atlanta’s elite (if you know me at all you know how hard it is to type that while I am laughing hysterically). If you have ever been to Phillips, its got a giant railroad track (metaphorically speaking) running right down the middle. I’ll explain - one side is almost all luxury suites. Many levels of them. And a full club level (the Horizon Club) with food, beverages, etc… I’m sure you could get an oil change and massage if you so desired. On the other side is seats. yep, just seats. So, you basically get to look across the tracks and watch the “other side” either enjoy themselves or look at you in loathe & envy.
Ok. So I’m a little late with this update.
Well, my first disappointment was the location of the protest. It literally was around the corner and way out of earshot of the event. Maybe about 20 strong and just waving some hand-made signs that looked like something created by Edward Scissorhands. Man, I’m just way too used to NYC protests. Little more “In your face”. They get out the big inflatable rat, hand out flyer’s, and enlist some radicals to stir it up a little bit. Then things starting looking up a bit. As I turned the corner towards the capital, you heard this guy yelling at the top of his lungs - “This is a public sidewalk. This is my free speech.” Oh the insanity! 2.7 seconds later, he’s being escorted into his very own black and white taxi, complete with handcuffs and “Christmas lights” (that’s what we called them in college). Weeeeee…. Dammit! I really wanted to see the clash of religious fanatics. Tear gas. Riot gear. Cats and dogs. Sta-Puft marshmallow man.
I’m not quite sure how to describe the rest of this. It was definitely a “religious event”, complete with a choir and multiple religious speakers. There must have been a template for the speeches - greet the crowd, make a comment about the shortcomings of scientific explanation, toss out a religious joke, and kick into a translation of
So we are a little dry here in Atlanta. And that’s putting it mildly. You pretty much can’t turn on the news without hearing about the “drought”. We see these images of Lake Lanier all dried out and the boats resting on the bottom. There’s been a battle between 