Tornado woes

My heart is broken.

Today, a tornado struck my town. Picturesque Monson, Mass., the sort of quaint, small town that reminds you of a Norman Rockwell painting, was pummeled by a storm this afternoon that all but leveled the downtown area. Luckily my house -- located on the outskirts of town on the border of Palmer -- was spared, but Main Street, just a few miles away, was destroyed. First Church of Monson, located at the intersection of Main and High streets as you head into downtown, was hit. Tomorrow would have been the seven-month anniversary of the fire at the church in November. Back then, we'd considered ourselves lucky that the church had been spared thanks to the local fire department. Now look at it.

Walking along the streets today, though, I found it hard to stay composed. The steeple that housed the stately clock that I was forever checking to see if I was late, was strewn across the front lawn, a gaping hole in the side of the building where it used to be.

In the parking lot of the library was a silver SUV larger than mine that had every single window blown out. Across the street, a maroon Toyota sedan was on its side, pressed up against a tree. Beyond that car, in the direction of State Street and Bethany Road, all you could see was destruction. A semblance of what once was. I wasn't able to make my way down Main Street -- there were electrical wires down and what looked like small fires in addition to the trees that were toppled over -- but from my vantage point in front of the library looking down, it didn't look like there was much to salvage.

Since arriving back home and watching reports of the tornado on the news, I've come to accept that we're now "that town;" the one that everyone looks on with sympathy and thoughts of "thank God that isn't me." My house may not have been affected but this is my town; this is me.

All I can think of right now is that I want to go to bed. I want to fall asleep and forget this happened, even if only for a few hours. Tomorrow, we'll begin the process of cleaning up and starting over. But for right now, I want to be blissfully ignorant; to live in a world where Mother Nature didn't just unleash her fury on us.

Perhaps all that talk about the world ending wasn't so far-fetched after all?