As The Storm Clouds Gather: A Personal Story Part 5

What happens next is going to be the hardest part to write about. To survive everything that happened on the first hit only to be ripped out from my Mother’s grasp and once again be carried off was unbelievable to me. What could I do to stop the madness of it? How could I save myself? No one could even find me to try to save me. My thoughts turned to God.

My Mother was the only witness to see the monster come back and take me again. I have never talked about what happened and how I managed to survive the experience to her or to anyone else. I have always just skipped over that part of the story. Even my mother will tell you that the tornado carried me off again and then will skip that part and smoothly continue on.

I decided not to talk about it because I thought and still do that most people would not believe me. No one seemed to or seems to believe in miracles anymore. In 1968 the world was changing with the hippie movement on one side talking about peace and love. While on the other side was the Vietnam War with the protesters and the rioters tearing up the streets. Who wanted to hear a 12 year old's version of a miracle with the world in constant upheaval?

But thinking about and writing about the storm over the past few days and trying to decide whether to include or skip over this part again, I realized that it just wasn’t me that had not been telling the full story. But that all of us had a part of the terrifying experience that we never talked about.

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