A Tornado is Coming — What Would You Grab?

The sky went dark and the alarms started sounding

“At first, it’s nearly invisible. Against the sky, it’s white on white.” — Greg MacGillivray

You could feel it in the air

On January 9th, 2024, I unexpectedly found myself facing the urgent question: There’s a tornado coming, what do I grab?

My girlfriend and I moved to Florida only three months prior and were still getting used to the moody weather patterns of the Gulf.

We knew a large storm was set to pass through that afternoon, so we decided to run our errands early in the day, hoping to beat the rain.

Whether I was at the bank, the grocery store, or the mechanic, the storm seemed to be the talk of the town.

“Ain’t normally like this,” my mechanic said, “It’s because El Niño we’re getting this crazy weather.”

I thanked him and saluted him as we drove off — “Stay safe.”

By the time we finished our last errand and drove home, the streets felt empty besides a few cars traveling urgently.

We got home and changed into our sweatpants and hoodies, getting cozy for the storm day. I started making tea as the rain began to bounce off the roof.

I gazed out the window as the water began to heat, watching many small puddles quickly form in the yard. The roar from the roof grew louder.

As we put the groceries away, a gust of wind pushed through our kitchen window and sent my loose papers flying in the air, dancing back and forth back to the ground.

Chasing after them, a deep roar of thunder echoed down our street.

The winds picked up even heavier and I could hear things crashing throughout the neighborhood yards. We brought our parakeets inside and made our dog, Tiki, a nest to hide in as the thunder shook the whole house.

As always, I took a picture of him.

I sent the photo to my mom back in California, letting her know about the storm we were in. Our relationship typically revolves around sending dog updates to each other.

She liked it and said she’d keep an eye on the news.

After closing all the windows in our small upstairs abode, I stood out on the porch and took one last look at the grey sky. The low-sitting clouds had turned dark and flew past us like a flowing river.

Damn, I’ve never seen clouds move that fast, I thought.

I spun around to find clouds from the north, west, and southwest all converging into a rapidly-flowing funnel, just over our neighborhood.

Wow…

I shut the door and turned the deadbolt tight.

The text message read, “It’s coming”

Locked inside, we decided to play some meditation music and try to calm the animals.

Tiki was shaking, and the birds were pacing fast around their cage. While keeping an eye on the sky through the window, we decided to try to work on our computers for a while.

I opened my computer and clicked over to Medium, where I was eager to continue working on an article I had been working on. Before clicking on my draft, I scanned through my notifications and checked my stats for the day — a familiar routine I find myself in.

As I laid my outline papers across the table and brought my cup of coffee over, my phone went off with a text from Mom.

The whole glass table rattled with the message’s urgency.

I picked the phone up and opened the text.

Quick decisions

For a moment, I sat at my desk, staring at the screen as the rhythm of the rain hitting the window danced with the meditation music in the living room.

I stared at the screen, paralyzed in disbelief, as the sounds outside grew louder.

We had just left Hawai’i months before after the Lahaina wildfires, and now the thought of our house again being destroyed struck a deep sense of fear in us.

Finally, I shot up and ran into the living room.

“Hey babe,” I called to her with my phone in my hand.

Suddenly, both of our phones began vibrating with emergency alerts.

I looked back down at my screen again.

“ALERT PINELLAS: Severe tornado warning in your area of Pinellas County.

Seek shelter.”

We looked up at each other in disbelief as our phones vibrated. We had made a plan earlier in the day, that if we were to see a tornado, we would go to our neighbor’s unit downstairs.

“Grab your stuff,” I said, “it’s time to go.”

As lightning beamed across the sky, the house would shake from the crackling thunder while distant sirens echoed through the streets.

This was the moment I had to ask myself, “What do I take with me?”

We began ravaging through the house, ripping drawers open and reaching for the things we thought to be essential.

I ran to my nightstand and stuffed my inhaler, wallet, and keys in my pants pockets.

“Don’t forget your passport!” Annie called out from the living room.

I pivoted back to my nightstand and stuffed my passport in my back pocket.

I then dug through my dresser grabbing a pair of boxers, black board shorts, a Madiera Beach tank top, and two socks. I snapped my towel off the hook in the bathroom and ran back to the kitchen table to wrap my computer with its charger.

Darting next into the kitchen, I stuffed 5 apples and 2 oranges into my hoodie’s pocket, along with two water bottles. On the shelf, I saw Tiki’s medications and stuffed those also in my left pants pocket.

Scanning the rest of the shelf, my eyes locked on to the bag of coffee.

You don’t need it, I thought, and I kept going.

I scooped up two gallons of water and ran back to the living room, where I met back with Annie and her belongings. I dipped down to pick up my shoes with the very last bit of space left of my pinky and ring finger.

“You get Tiki, I’ll get the birds,” I said.

The front door swung open with the wind, and Annie’s sandals flew off the porch and out of the yard. She’d have to run down our red stairs and across our brick pathway barefoot.

“Time to go,” I said, encouraging her to go first.

As I went for the stairs, a sock dropped from my pile and onto the ground.

I tried to get it with my toes, but quickly realized I had to just leave it.

With one last gaze at the house before closing the front door, I said my goodbyes to her.

Thanks house.

I grabbed the birdcage and made my sprint down the red stairs.

Annie dashed through the backyard holding her pile of belongings with Tiki riding on top. I followed close behind with a swinging birdcage, pockets full of supplies, and arms full of belongings.

Getting to our neighbor's window, I banged on the glass and waved at her through the window. The sweet southern older woman waved for us to come in.

We burst through the door and began dumping our piles in the back room. I set the birds in the kitchen and threw the fruit and water across the counter before hiding my laptop in a small space in our neighbor’s closet.

I don’t think she got more than a hello before we ran back upstairs to do one last final check. I looked up at the sky again to find the clouds had gotten so thick you could no longer tell which direction they were blowing in, only feel them on your face.

The sky had transformed into one dark blanket, erupting with lightning.

Suddenly, the alerts sounded yet again.

We got back inside, and this time I deadbolted my neighbor’s door.

Sitting beside my neighbor and her two shaken dogs guarding the couch, we watched the radar on the news as they followed the storm closely. The tornado just blocks from our house had lost its momentum, and now the red zone had made its way over Tampa Bay.

With hearts pounding, we began to laugh off the adrenaline.

We thanked her for allowing us into her home, and potentially saving our lives, as our upstairs unit wouldn't have stood a chance if the tornado had hit.

Gathering our belongings, I began to take stock of what we chose to take with us. While I grabbed as many supplies as I could, Annie went for all that was truly important to her — Tiki and her passport.

As we brought our belongings back upstairs, I couldn’t help but feel so grateful to be walking back into our warm, cozy home. I took a deep breath of appreciation for this space that we almost lost.

After this experience dancing with Mother Nature, it made me curious — what would you grab if a tornado was headed your way?

In the comments below, let me know what three things you would grab if you had only seconds to spare.

I’m excited to see what you all say!

A note from the author

Thanks for reading along!

If you’re curious about our experience dealing with the aftermath of the Lahaina wildfire:

Til next time,

Cheers!