Arbor Day Tornados

April 29, 2024

3:04 p.m. Tornado warning in Waverly, Nebraska, West of Omaha.

3:05 p.m. The sirens started right on time. Many friends were driving their kids home, my son was safe at his grandparents. I was home isolating with a brand-new case of Covid.

3:13 p.m. Funnel cloud is in Ashland, NE, Southwest of Omaha.

3:15 p.m. The schools sent out a message, many children were stuck there, sheltering in place. I send up a prayer for all the families waiting to be with their kids and the teachers keeping them safe, as the storms head our way.

3:18 p.m. My parents sent me a photo of my son on a swing in the backyard. The weather is beautiful outside which seems like a joke with the imminent concern pressing upon us.

3:23 p.m. Sirens alarm again. Everyone at both homes is inside and taking shelter.

3:33 p.m. Douglas County Police Department reports a tornado on the ground on 204th and Q. The storm has arrived.

3:51 p.m. I sent a text to my parents. “It’s Heading Right For You.”

3:51 p.m. The power goes out at their place.

3:54 p.m. I check in to see how my son is doing, he replies “Having a Blast.”

3:56 p.m. Two minutes later, he sends an update……     

I stared at my phone trying to decipher the meaning of the text. Was it bad? Are they ok? 

I let out a loud sob as I shakily dialed their number. 

Behind my mother’s words of comfort, I could hear alarms protesting loudly in the background.

They were safe and I held this knowledge with a death grip as I sat helplessly in my basement. The sirens were relentless.  Another tornado landed in southeast Omaha, racing past the Henry Doorly Zoo, hitting Eppley Airfield before moving through to Iowa. The largest track of the Arbor Day tornados was on the ground for over 40 miles.

It took a monumental force to keep me at home until it was safe to leave my shelter. I needed to see they were safe, I needed to see my boy. The destruction I saw as I moved north was heartbreaking. Homes leveled, trees uprooted, and debris in the most unlikely of places.

The streets and roads leading to my parents’ neighborhood were blocked off due to downed power lines. A police officer stopped me on my way, asking for my intention in the area. With tears streaming down my face, I told him I was trying to get to my son.

I parked several blocks away, navigating buzzing power lines and indiscernible items strewn out over the grounds. A thick detritus muck clung to every surface, spreading all around like the scene of an alien invasion. It spawned across the street, trees, walls, and cars, at least what was left of them. Alarms sounded all around, a constant barrage and assault to the ears. Each tone was slightly off from the home next to it, so the sound was continuous but never as one. My breath came in gulps as I tried in vain to hold back my emotions. I walked down the street of my parent’s home, or what was left of the street, navigating through glass, insulation, and intimate memories purged from the collective neighborhood homes

People stood in absolute shock, eyes glazed over as they stared at the remains of their homes and the lives they’d built over the years. I tried desperately to keep it together, but I was finding it hard to breathe, choked with emotions. The destruction was terrifying.

I collided with my son the moment I saw him. Relief coursed through me as I realized how much I needed to see him, hold him. I needed contact to know he was ok. My heart broke for my family whose home was in shatters. Roof torn off, windows shattered, memories destroyed, furniture gone or destroyed. Littered amongst their destroyed treasures, items from other homes, other families. 

Earlier that morning, I shared a post from my favorite meteorologist, Rusty Lord, who warned, “Been a while since I’ve been this concerned about severe weather potential. Don’t ignore a single warning today folks.” 

What followed is a series of events I will never forget. A single tornado on the ground for 31 miles, marching through neighborhoods across the western part of Omaha.  The tornado received a high rating of an EF-3 with a mere 1 mph off from being rated an EF-4. It left a defined road of destruction from Southwest Omaha, through Elkhorn, Bennington, and Blair. A neighborhood in Elkhorn was taken down to the foundations. 

It was nothing short of a miracle no lives were lost as this storm system brought nineteen confirmed tornadoes to the ground. They were identified as the following: 1 EF-Unknown, 3 EF-0, 8 EF-1, 2 EF-2, and 5 EF-3. The peak estimated wind speed of the tornadoes was 165 mph and the maximum tornado track was a length of 40.9 miles. Two separate tornadoes were one mile wide. The total track length of all tornadoes combined was a startling 201.7 miles with a combined time on the ground of over 6 hours.

Days later, I would walk out into my parents backyard and look at the deck. The swing hung eerily on its chains as if waiting for a boy to climb aboard and gleefully kick his feet to the skies just as my son had at 3:18 pm on April 29th, 2024. The deck was now crumbled, torn from the house. Soon, its remains and the swing would disappear with the rest of the savaged debris.