The sky turned black, and he lived to tell it
PHIL CAMPBELL — By the time April 27, 2011, arrived, Rodney Smith had already grown accustomed to the warnings.
For days, sirens had gone off across Franklin County. Storms had come and gone. Like many people in the area, he had started to believe this would be another false alarm.
As time would tell, it was not.
Smith was a teacher in Franklin County, as was his wife. That afternoon, he watched a storm pass over Tharptown Elementary School, where he taught. On the drive home, he saw fields covered in water from heavy rain. It looked like a lake on both sides of the road. Still, he was not too worried.
At home on their farm, his wife and young son went ahead to her parents’ house down the road, where there was a basement and a safe room. Smith stayed behind for a moment. He planned to eat and watch the weather before joining them.
Instead, he fell asleep. “I’m lucky my wife called me,” Smith said. “If she hadn’t, they wouldn’t have had time to come get me.”
The phone call woke him just three minutes before the tornado arrived. Even then, he did not realize the danger. He took his time gathering his things before he left. When he stepped outside, he saw a massive dark cloud moving toward him. It was so large he did not recognize it as a tornado.
He drove down to his in-laws’ house, where his family had already gone inside. At first, everything seemed calm. Then he noticed something strange moving across the yard.
CONTRIBUTED/RODNEY SMITH
Sherry Smith and her son, Daniel, examine the storm damage on their property shortly after the tornado hit.
A low fog twisted along the ground in tight spirals, like corkscrews. Dozens of them spun at once, rising and shifting in different directions.
“It looked like there were 50 or 60 of them,” he said. “I told my wife we needed to video it. It was so strange.”
Moments later, the sky turned completely black. What looked like smoke rushed toward them. It was debris pulled into the storm. They ran for the safe room.
Inside, the air pressure changed so quickly it hurt. Smith said it felt like the air was being pulled out of the room. Their ears popped. The door strained against the force of the wind. Then came the sound. People often compare a tornado to a train. Smith said it sounds more like the rattling of the tracks.
“It was just roaring,” he said.
When it passed, they stepped outside into silence. At first, they thought the damage was limited. A nearby chicken house appeared to be gone. But as they moved down the road, the full destruction came into view.
“It looked like a nuclear bomb went off,” Smith said.
His home was gone. There was nothing left but scattered debris. Pieces of his life were thrown hundreds of yards away. A couch cushion. Parts of his son’s bed. Clothing caught in trees.
Even larger objects had been carried away. Cars, boat motors and scrap metal ended up in his pond. They later pulled multiple dump truck loads of debris from the water. One car was found standing upright. Five of his neighbors did not survive.
Smith and his family went to check on his wife’s grandmother, who had stayed in her own home across the road. Most of the house was destroyed. Only the walls of her bedroom remained standing.
They found her alive inside. Furniture had fallen on top of her, likely keeping her from being pulled into the storm. She suffered serious injuries but survived.
In the days which followed, Smith said the community came together. Schools opened their gyms to store supplies. Volunteers helped clear debris. Friends and former players he had coached showed up to lend a hand.
“We didn’t have anything,” he said, “but people helped.”
In time, the family rebuilt on the same land. They now live in a log cabin where their old house once stood.
Looking back, Smith said the storm changed how he sees the world.
“I used to not take it serious,” he said. “Now, every time there’s a cloud, I pay attention.”
He still thinks about how close it came.
“If my family had tried to come get me, we would have all been killed,” he said.
Instead, they survived. “You realize you didn’t lose everything,” Smith said. “You still have your family. That’s what matters most.”