Abstract

I live and practice in Joplin, Missouri. May 22, 2011 was a typical late spring–early summer day in the Midwest, with intermittent thunderstorms plaguing the day. I was home around 5:00 PM, when tornado warning sirens sounded for several minutes, an event not uncommon in the heart of Tornado Alley. The sirens stopped and despite the sky’s rather ominous appearance, I loaded my wife and great-nephews, each age 7, into my old truck for a trip across town to my nephew’s home for a birthday party. Unbeknownst to anyone, three large supercell thunderstorms west of the city had converged to form what would prove to be a devastating EF5 tornado. At 5:30 PM, I reached the intersection of 26th and Schifferdecker Road, which was at the northwest border of the path of the tornado. I stopped at the intersection looking south; I saw leaves blowing toward me from a southeasterly direction, passing in front of me in a clearly circular path. I can vividly recall the wave of leaves, followed in similar fashion by successive waves of shingles, tar paper, road signs, and large projectiles of wood. I turned to the west to avoid the path of falling electrical lines. I pulled off the road adjacent to a line of Bradford pear trees. Power poles and lines continued to fall around me as the line of Bradford pears did a choreographed dance, bending sequentially, 90 degrees to the south in an east-to-west direction. A large wooden missile shattered the back window of the truck, showering the cab with glass. After several minutes of continued wind and rain, the storm seemed to wane and the rain ceased. As I began to get the truck back on the road, not aware of the magnitude of the event, I soon realized that I was in the right place at a very wrong time. My nephew’s neighborhood was leveled. As a family, we were fortunate in that no one was injured. Returning to our home outside the tornado’s path required a circuitous route to avoid the large amounts of debris and numerous downed power lines. I was redirected by emergency personnel back through portions of the tornado’s path, and at this point the devastation was evident. Few recognizable landmarks stood, we felt lost at familiar places. Mercy Hospital was dark. People were in shock. On a personal level, the impact of the destruction was immense. My nephew’s home was destroyed and my office of 25 years was a total loss. I have four employees: two lost their homes. The third employee’s mother lost her home. The fourth employee was at my office to remind patients of Monday morning appointments, and she was trapped in the stairwell. My situation was by no means unique; the city as a whole was affected, and few if any individuals escaped the effects of the tornado. In total, 8000 homes, 1000 businesses, 81 physician offices, a major hospital, and 161 lives were lost, with countless more injured.¹