The Des Moines Register from Des Moines, Iowa • Page 140

I.I.-.. I 1 if -1 0 ilb TVQfjf. jjfjj, J.ZUJw xmmrm, Hie dog survived. So did tye old pump. I The Gibson famil, standing at the mouth of the cava that saved their lives, surveys what left of their In the cava that saved them.

Notice the steep, narrow stairwayXFear still 1 once-pleasant farmstead. Deer fe the I 4', Landlord Ed Standiford (right and Keith talk over rebuilding plans amid the wreckage of the barn. What's it like to go through a tornado? Here's what happened to an Iowa farm family Pictures by Staff Photographer Jervat Baldwin. Day iliie Twister StirucEi cava was put oa. after storm.

it Sn the faces af tfca ehJIdran. -1 Vk i Vs I i The storm plucked the Gibson mailbox from between these two. I 5 BLANCH ARD, I A. FOR EARLY April, the weather suddenly was too good. from early morning temperatures the low 40's to afternoon readings in the nigh 70s.

With the change came moist air from the south, followed closely by cold air overhead, moving rapidly across the continental divide from the northwest But the continental divide Is a long way from Page County, Iowa, and to 35-year-old Keith Gibson going about his farmwork it, was almost like a June day Warm. Nice. stairs. They were scared. So were Connie and Patricia.

Mrs. Gibson looked at them calmy. "Don't worry," she said. "It's started to rain. ItH quiet down now.

There's nothing to be afraid of." Mrs. Gibson wasn't afraid of storms. Never had been. She had never gone to a storm cave in her life. Then, without further warning, the house was struck by the rattling fury of a hailstorm.

The wind grew stronger. Hailstones pouuded the house and windows. Big hailstones. As big as eggs, but flat like fried ones. They bounced and skipped across the yard.

"Like rubber balls," Mrs. Gibson said. The whole family watched the skipping hailstones far maybe 10 minutes. Then the hail stopped. The wind died.

It was quiet again. The children ran Into the yard to pick up hailstones. Mrs. Gibson hung her newly-made curtains at -the back porch windows. Daddy," called one of the children, 'let's make Ice cream!" So Keith went out with a bucket and the children started Sf4 if -Vte.

4-- i f-l This doS wm a The trees went the way So was this radio. of everything else. By B. G. Thrailkill kitchen window, didn't" see much reason for alarm, but she told the children to go to the cave.

The children were excited, too excited to get coats or jackets. Mrsf Gibson, in no hurry whatever, gathered up some candles. She paused before the stove long enough to turn the burner to "simmer," to keep the pot roast warm. Then she walked to the cave entrance on the back porch. It was an open stairway, narrow and steep.

There was no door at the bottom of the steps, only a brick archway. The cave itself, about by 10 feet, was built- of brick with an arched ceiling and concrete floor. No one remembers when the cave was dug, perhaps SO years ago. But it looked as strong and safe as the day it was built. There were fruit shelves along the sides.

Overhead was an electric light, A power failure in midafternoon had made it useless. That's why Mrs. Gibson had picked up the candles. The children were huddled together, still excited and a Continued killing no one. A week after the tornadoes, the Iowa Farm and Borne Register sent Staff Writer B.

G. Thrailkilt and Staff Photographer Jervas Baldwin down to the Blanch ard- Northboro area in the southwest corner of the state ta tain with a farm family typical of those that lost everything when the storms track. Thi is taeir refort filling It with the 'big hailstones. "Ice cream! Ice cream!" theycried. "We'll invite the neighbors." KEITH, helping pick' up hailstones, stopped to glance at the sky.

The clouds in the west were dark. It began to sprinkle. The sprinkle became a shower. He sent the children into the house. He had on a raincoat and the rain didn't bother him.

hailstones, then looked at the sky again. It was boiling now. He called his wife out te look at it She took a casual look and went back into the house. The next time Keith looked at the sky he stopped picking up hailstones. The southwest was a roiling mass of whitish, gray clouds.

Some of them had little white wisps on them, like tails. They were Incipient tornadoes. Keith didn't know he was seeing the start of three tornadoes, but he did know there was danger in that sky. KD.U.n n-Af tM trie) lAVf Shouted to his family. Mrs.

Gibson, looking out the This spring has been no exception. Early on the evening of Monday, Apr. 5 it was not yet dark, about twisters swept narrow path in southwest Iowa, smashing all the buildings on a feu) of the farms, doing heavy damage at others, lighter damage at itiH others, kitting and injuring Uvestock, terrorising the farm families. but-luckily a snack, then Sharon and "Butch" went upstairs to play. Connie and Patricia read the comics.

Mrs. Gibson started making eome ruffled, plastic curtains for the closed-in back porch. A pot roast for supper already was cooking on the bottled, gas stove. Keith came home from his fathers farm, a mile east, where he liad been disking ground to plant oats. He was getting ready to do the chorea.

It was about 5 o'clock. The lightning and thunder were moving closer. A flash of lightning and a sharp crack of thunder sent Sharon nd Butch' scampering down Gibson's 33-year-old wife, Vada, at a Farm Bureau meeting In Northboro, kept thinking it wm too nice a day to take time oft from the farm. Here it was Monday. The j-ard needed raking.

She was glad she had hung new curtains upstairs that morning and had found time to start re-covering some chairs. When she left the meeting with her 3-year-old son, Delias Keith who has never been called anythinc except "Butch" she noticed the air felt close. There was a light breeze but It didn't temper the sultry air. Instead, It seemed to take her breath. The sky which had been only partly cloudy earlier now was completely covered with clouds.

There was lightning and thunder in the distance. She thought of a thunderstorm and wanted to get borne before the school bus brought the other children home Connie, 11; Patricia, 9, and 7. She knew they'd be afraid. CHE reached home Bhort-ly before the children did. When they came In they ate ft IOWA 0SINCS 0mh Council MBSOURI EARLY every tirmg, tchen the days can't teem to decide whether to be warm or chittsf, the wide channel i temperature tend huge masses of air whirling and swooping round the countryside, and tuHsttng snouts of tornadoes dip into Iowa, leaving destruction wherever they touch, farms In the open country usuaUy are hardest kit.

J. e-u WA FARM AND HOME MAY a. 1964 7U tOWA FARM AND HOME MAY ltS4.