Buffat Gets Buffeted!

Buffat Mill Road, that is.

Several times, I thought of clever ways to walk my way into this post. But, at this very moment, it seems more important that I express sincere thanks to the KUB crews who worked long and hard (and are still working) to restore power to the homes and businesses in Knoxville. Not that I like KUB's very annoying phone-answering robot (who refused to acknowledge every telephone number I've ever had and then had the gall to say it couldn't recognize my account number that I've had for 25 years, and then to say "goodbye" and hang up on me. That emergency phone-answering system needs some humanity to be worked into it, KUB. The crew workers, though, are top-shelf and the one I chased down my road (I was on foot--he was driving his truck) had managed to keep his sense of humor, too. He stopped and I indicated "please roll down your window"; he motioned for me to open the passenger door and, once I had the door open and was half-way inside the truck, I realized he couldn't reach across the seat that was full of equipment -- to get to his window handle. He patiently listened to my report of wires being down in my yard and then we had a brief discussion about the weather people's denial that Tuesday's storm had produced tornados. We agreed that if they didn't predict it (especially a storm of this intensity), then they certainly couldn't admit we'd had a tornado. The newspaper played along with it and none of the editors challenged it. "Straight winds", a "severe thunderstorm". Yeah, sure, the public is THAT gullible? No! A clerk at the post office confided to me today, "The Lord knows it was a tornado even if they (weatherpeople, newspaper, etc.) deny it."

Here's what happened at my house on Tuesday evening. Dixie Lee (my dog) and I were at home, sort of gearing down for the evening. Rather suddenly, she began to act agitated and I thought, "Gosh, I haven't let her out for a while" and opened the back door for her to go out. Ever obedient, she went out the door and quickly turned around as if she'd changed her mind. I said, "Mommy will come out with you, Dixie" and I stepped onto the porch, noticing a weird combo dark and light sky. A fraction of a moment later, a roaring sound began and the air was swirling. Startled, I grabbed the storm door and said something like "Oh my God"…the roaring noise escalated into something that seemed to be other-worldly and the door in my grasp was suddenly blowing so hard and upward, I was almost airborne. I was screaming Dixie's name, full of fear for her, as I thought she had gone out into the yard. Then, as I looked downward, there she was, pushing me back into the kitchen. The wind lost interest in my door (which I quickly closed) as it went for bigger targets. Instantly, our house was plunged into darkness as the power was knocked out. Dixie and I ran into the bathroom and, as we sat on the floor, terrified, I held her tight, so that we could, at least, blow away together instead of each dying alone. The freight train noise I'd read about had become reality for me and for the next few minutes, we heard trees and other items toppling, cracking, whooshing, and smashing all around. Our house began a strange sensation as if it had become alive and was sort of quivering or breathing -- expanding and contracting. I thought it would leave its foundation. A few moments felt like such a long time as we huddled there. I had my cell phone in my pocket and took it out to dial a friend; if he'd answered, I don't know what I would have said … I probably would have shouted the words "Hide" or "Find shelter", though I knew it was too late. A few minutes later, things outside calmed down and Jerry called me; I didn't recognize the incoming number and I knew he didn't have his cell phone with him -- he asked me if I was OK. I think I just whimpered "Scared".

When I ventured outside, I found that my yard and neighborhood were almost unrecognizable. Huge trees were toppled and telephone poles were cracked into pieces, with utility wires dangling, swaying and lying all over the place. One of the trees had fallen from the other side of a neighboring yard and had completely filled and blocked my driveway (the van and truck were safely parked under the carport, but they were trapped there). I took a flashlight and slowly found my way around the wires that the tree had brought down, so that I could get to the truck and get Jerry's cell phone (the battery in mine was almost totally discharged).

The next morning, I attacked the fallen tree limbs that were imprisoning my van, reasoning that if the power was out, so were the wires. True, fortunately. Once out on the roads, I saw the devastation in the area. A conversation with a man in the parking lot of a closed business (almost all businesses in the area were closed for lack of power) proved very fruitful because an hour later, he came to my house with his helper and chainsaws. He worked on sawing and pushing aside the multiple limbs (such a bouffant tree) so that the driveway was usable. Eventually, a message came through on my cell phone from my friend, who had called many hours earlier ... he was OK. Late Wednesday night, the power came back on at my house. The wire for my landline telephone is still lying on the ground and may be restored by next Tuesday (!) Thanks, AT&T.

Dixie and I are writing this from our motel room on Thursday afternoon. We will be going back home tomorrow. Honestly, there are things I like about my house and there are things IN my house that I treasure (my piano, plants, drums and other special items) … and there are things in my yard that I love -- my maple tree (which bravely withstood the onslaught and only lost one limb), my wildflowers, my mock orange bush; but, there are times when the house just feels like a hell-hole … and this was certainly one of those times.

But today I got to play my piano again and affectionately look upon my brave trees ... and notice that over the past couple of days, several of my potted wildflowers have burst into bloom. And, at last, the sun is shining!