It was a dark and stormy night last night.

March 15, 2024, in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas. This morning is grey and dreary. The creek outside my home is flowing fast, and there are puddles of water in the low spots on my property.

From my balcony, I see no alarming signs of damage from last night’s storm. We are safe and warm. We have electricity and water. There are no downed power poles or uprooted trees in sight. However, some in our Village of approximately 14,000 residents do not yet have power restored and we all are urged to be judicious about water usage until possible damage can be assessed or remedied.

Last night, somewhere around 8:30 p.m., a confirmed tornado, albeit a slow-moving and relatively minor one, moved through our area, formed out of a bank of thunderstorms that was widespread from Ohio to southern Arkansas. News reports point to some severe damage to businesses and commercial buildings on the highways near our gated residential community, but so far, at least, there have been no reported deaths or major injuries. Some neighborhoods reported hail the size of softballs, and we understand that tree limbs and downed power lines dot the landscape. We have heard reports of major damage to some roofs, and at least one home is reported to be almost totally destroyed. Such damage has not been confirmed, and such reports are relatively few.

Pulling Together

This morning, it feels more like “community” here than on most days. But there are no neighbors out walking their dogs, no golfers on the course. Residents have been vigilant about checking on friends and neighbors. At least one church opened its doors last night to shelter anyone without power, and those with home damage. Other groups continue to monitor members and neighbors, offering aid to anyone in need. Multiple e-mail and message chains appeared last night, asking folks to respond simply by saying “okay” or “all is well.” That also provided a way for officials to quickly assess where property damage was most severe, and where power outages existed. Many residents have felt compelled to notify far-flung friends and family about conditions here, thinking that they don’t want relatives to hear about “our tornado” on the national news. Somehow, this morning, the feeling is that we live in the “small-town” America that many of us wish still existed

Area schools opened late this morning after it was determined that school buses could safely complete their routes. But they opened, and life will soon return to its normal cadence for most of us. Local restaurants, shops, and service businesses have done a commendable job of keeping us “in the loop” about closings, cancellations, altered hours of operation, and other essential information. But all are determined to move on from yesterday’s storm.

The Reality

I have never before been so close to a tornado’s touchdown, even though I have lived for many years in areas where tornados are far from unknown. Was it frightening? I don’t know; it was over too quickly. It came with too little warning.

My husband and I don’t have the comfort of a “safe room” in our home; our nearest shelter is a basement storage room accessible only via an exterior pathway. We might not have had enough warning last night to make our way there, but it was not an option to follow a slippery downhill pathway in driving rain while also being pelted by large hail.

I wasn’t ready for that kind of adventure. Instead, my husband and I watched television news reports as the path of the suspected tornado swerved into an area just blocks away from our street. We watched in fascination, awed by the weather team’s ability to pinpoint the exact area where the tornado would (and did) touch down.

Memories of the Past

On my mind was an evening several years ago in a suburb of Fort Worth, Texas. Then, my husband and I huddled in an interior hallway of our home. That was scary because I could “feel” the winds as they hovered around neighborhood trees and rooftops. It was as if the house groaned in the effort to hang on. And then we heard the “freight train” sounds as the worst of the fast-moving storm passed nearby. That was fear — clear and unmistakable.

That particular tornado struck down in the DFW Metroplex some 30-40 miles away! I am not eager to repeat that experience, nor to be witness to that sort of major devastation.

This was different. My husband and I stood looking out at the darkness that surrounded us. It was still and quiet outside last night. A sliding door to our screened porch was open, but except for the sound of raindrops, there was little hint of the approaching storm. We saw the brightly-colored weather maps on television and could not reconcile them with the view outside our window.  

At that moment, there was no thunder, no lightning, no wind noise. There was nothing to cause fear other than the occasional loud bang of a hailstone on the roof and the relentless pleas of the broadcast weatherman to take cover immediately.

We did not react in the prescribed manner. It was not that we didn’t know what we should have done. It was simply that we did not react. The rain continued, heavy at times, far into the night, after the tornado warning was lifted. When we finally went to bed, it was hard to sleep soundly.

Assessing the Storm

This morning, as we listened to a radio interview with Kelly Hale, general manager of the Hot Springs Village Property Owners Association, we realized again how lucky we are. Indeed, we have valid reasons to believe that all the residents of our Village are fortunate. Yes, there is property damage. Yes, tree limbs block at least some of our major thoroughfares within the Village. Yes, some small roads are almost inaccessible. Yes, there are power outages.

But, as was noted on the radio this morning, crews from the power companies are on the job to reset power poles; cleanup is underway, and first responders are visiting homes in our community to check on residents. We feel fortunate, indeed. But we have been instructed to stay home and allow the professional first responders, utility workers, and cleanup crews to do their jobs.

In effect, we have been asked to put aside our curiosity and stay out of the way. I am certain there will be time for volunteer labor in our community, but, for now, it can and should wait until the major repairs and cleanup are finished. I am certain also that we will come together as a community to clean up, fix up and move on, just as other communities have done in the past.

We are at home because we don’t want to escalate the problem. We have seen some pictures posted online of the tree limbs and the debris in our neighborhoods. We will watch the television news reports this afternoon. We will eagerly await the final storm assessment from the authorities. And then, as necessary, we will join with our neighbors to help restore our community.

The Day After 

Now it is late afternoon in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas. The first photos are just now being aired on television showing the damage to our community. Here are the facts:

The National Weather Service has confirmed that it is believed an EF-2 tornado cut a swath through our community last night with a storm track approximately one-half mile wide, with winds of about 115 miles per hour. It is believed that the track on the ground was approximately eight miles long. We will eagerly watch the continuing coverage of the storm that burst into our community unexpectedly last night. I, for one, am eager to get out and see the damage to my community firsthand.

For now, though, I am grateful that it was not worse. 

With much of the world under siege from events so much more terrifying than a spring storm, we count our blessings. We do, however, look forward to seeing sun and blue sky once again!