I remember it like it was yesterday. It was Sunday evening and it was raining.  Not like a little bit of rain either, like shake the floor and windows of your house thunder and lightening kind of rain.

That was the first night I heard tornado sirens.

I was home alone.

As a girl born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, the only kind of natural disaster drills I had ever experienced was for earthquakes.  I had a feeling crawling under the kitchen table and grabbing my neck wasn’t going to cut in this time.  So I did the only thing I could think of, I put on my tennis shoes, grabbed a couple bottles of water, a blanket and my phone and then I called my roommate who was across town. She told me not to worry.  I said ok.

I was terrified.

I turned on the television and…