The House Began to Pitch

My sister lives in Chicago, and while I was out enjoying a night of fire dancing, she had a different kind of adventure.

You might have heard, Wrigley Field was evacuated last night because of the tornado.

Here's the story, as my husband relayed it to me this morning.

Karrie was on her way home from the hospital where she works, on the bus, when her friend Logan, who was staying at her condo, called. Logan was afraid because of the storm. Karrie said "Well, don't panic until you hear the tornado sirens. I'm on my way home right now."

They hung up, and five minutes later, the tornado sirens went off. My sister's bus was tossed around in the wind, and she was thoroughly afraid. She got off the bus, and had to run three blocks in ankle-deep water to her building.

She was safe, but a little shaken. They rode out the storm, and after it was over, they realized that a tree had come down a little farther down her block.

"Karrie, isn't your car parked down there?"

"Oh crap."

They went to check it out, and the 300-year-old tree had come down and hit part of her car, which isn't totaled, but did have some damage. There were other cars in the area that did get totaled.

The moral of the story? One of the reasons I live here is because unless you're ridiculously stupid, the weather here isn't going to kill you.

Sis, I'm really glad you're ok.