Mrs. Callahan's story

We spent most of the week working on Mrs. Callahan's 100-acre property. That's her holding the plant we gave her in the center of the photo with the team. On Wednesday night after dinner, the teams gathered around her and she told us the story of what happened the day the tornado hit and what has happened since.

The tornado that hit her home was the big one of April 27, 2011. There were several others that hit that day. This was an F4 tornado meaning wind speeds of 207 to 26o mph. That is enough to turn an automobile into a missile. This particular tornado was a quarter of a mile wide and was on the ground in residential Tuscaloosa for over a mile, chewing up everything in its path.

Mrs. Callahan was a great storyteller. She has a intelligent mind, pleasant southern voice, constant smile, and twinkling eyes. She said that it was just her and her two cats at home. It was a bad day and everyone knew to be on the lookout for tornados. Just after 5 pm, she said she heard a sound at the front door. "I had just let one of my cats out and I heard a sound. So I went to see what it was. I saw the front door open. I knew something big was happening, but all I could think to do in the moment was to close the front door."

She then described trying to take a step toward the front door, but not being able to move forward. "It was a force that prevented me to move forward. It was pressing on me here (touching her abdomen). I tried, but I just couldn't go forward." Somehow she decided that maybe going forward was not the best idea in the moment. "So I began to move backwards. Slowly. Like this (showing us). And then I looked down and I guess the cat thought it was a good idea to back away too. She was backing up too."

In the 100 days since the tornado, Mrs. Callahan had taken time to think about what exactly happened. She knew about barometric pressure changes, of course, but that was not how she interpreted what happened in her home that day. "I think the Holy Spirit was preventing me from moving forward. Forward was dangerous, but backward was safe. So I moved backward. But I'm convinced God was with me in that moment and I was not afraid."

As she was moving backward, she looked over to her left and saw the bathroom. "So I jumped into the tub. Now, I don't jump. I just don't. But I jumped into that tub." About a minute later, the tornado passed. The whole thing took less than five minutes. As those five minutes passed through neighborhoods, the tornados killed 47 people in Tuscaloosa and 247 people in Alabama.

"When the storm passed, I opened my front door and could not see anything. The trees were piled on top of each others and there was a mountain of trees that I could not see around or through. I went to the back door and it was the same thing. In fact, a tree had fallen on my carport and crushed my car. I could see that, but nothing else." The electricity and phones were out and she was alone.

A cousin's husband parked at the school about a quarter mile from her house and walked to her house to check on her. Because of the debris, that was as close as he get. "A trip that would be about a ten-minute walk took him two hours. He had to crawl under and over trees and debris. Plus there were no roads or lights or houses to give you a sense of direction in the mountain of downed trees." She and her cousin's husband made the two hour trip back to the car, and she has not lived in her house since.

She had told us the story of that day. However, there was a bigger story she wanted to tell. The first part of that larger story was the story of how the community and nation had poured out their hearts, wallets, time, and prayers to support her and all of Tuscaloosa damaged by the storms. "I was so impressed with everyone who has come out here to help. I've tried to learn their names and express to each one of them my deepest gratitude. They have been so good, they really have."

She also wanted to tell the story of people caring for each other. It was humanity at its best. Right after the storm, neighbors did with each other what her cousin's husband did for her - they looked after each other. People went up and down the roads and checked on each other. Once they knew that people were safe, they then followed up and kept checking on each other. For her, she saw this devastation as a chance for God to remind people of what is most important and gave them an opportunity to exercise it. It was a chance to love each other. It also caused this pastor to reflect on human suffering and talk about "Holding on to Faith" the Sunday I got back (click here for that message).

Mrs. Callahan was not happy about the storm, of course. The damage to her property turned what had been a wildlife reserve into a sparse land of brown and red (the soil color). Out of the damage, however, she felt God opening up something important to her. God led her to restart a ministry her father had done with that property. "My father had about five acres of turnip greens that he grew and would give away to the poor. He just gave them away to whoever was hungry. I'm going to start that again. I'm going to start a mission farm." That was the acreage our team was clearing. As it turned out, we thought we were helping one person - Mrs. Callahan - but in helping her, we were helping thousands of people.

All of us that night walked away not only in awe of the terrible force of nature that brought us all there, but also in awe of the God who took devastation and turned it into great hope and promise for a better future. It reminded us that God is in control even during difficult times and that God would raise up faithful servants like Mrs. Callahan to teach us and the world that God is good and at work for our good in this world.