I was seven years old at a Melvern Lake campground under the dam. Storms had hit earlier in the evening and seemed to intensify overhead. We sat in our fifth wheel camper and listened to hail plink off the roof. The weatherman looked nervous on TV, so we headed to the shelter. At the campground, it was a brown brick structure that housed the showers, washer and dryers, and was the storm shelter if all hell broke loose.

The shelter was full but we squeezed in. There was a nice place in between a washer and dryer and I hunkered down. I remember the sound of thunder but not the conversations. There was a lot of thunder and hail in the storm. People seemed tense, but the storm seemed to slow down and rest. My father called me and we went back to the camper.

He knew I was nervous, and to counter that, tried to show me Solitaire. To this day, I still don’t know how to play.

The rain started again, lightning seemed to hit right outside flickering the power, and the weatherman interrupted regular programming. A tornado was sighted at Melvern Lake heading to the dam. We were camping at the campground below the dam.

Dad ran outside and got the truck. He pulled it close enough to the camper door that mom and I were able to jump right in about the time it started hailing. It was the largest hail I remember, but sometimes that’s how childhood memories are.

We made it to the shelter with a line of people screaming and forcing their way into the shelter. We made it in, right in front of a large pregnant woman screaming, “Oh my God. It’s going over the top of us”.

I found my spot between the washer and dryer and waited for the apocalypse.

Maybe I’m still waiting. Not to wax poetic, but I’m a storm chaser. I run a blog called Ruminations of Thunder.

I don’t have an armored car and no one has sponsored the Ruminations of Thunder Chase 2010. I’m a local guy that has an obsession for storms because at one point in my life, it scared the hell out of me.

Going back to Melvern Lake, my father pulled me out from between the washer and dryer. Taking me outside, he pointed out to the Northeast. There was nothing, until a bolt of lightning illuminated a wedge tornado and two twisters over the town of Melvern. We were spared, I don’t think Melvern was so lucky.

Since then I’ve studied storms. I’m not a meteorologist, but a writer and photographer. I go out so you don’t have to.

The snow is melting outside and I’m ready to prove Punxsutawney Phil wrong. Preseason is about to start.

Related posts:

1. [do] Storm Chasing in Wichita: May 10
2. daily [snap] – Ice Storm
3. Daily [snap] – Shelter
4. [do] Scuba in Wichita (Yes, Really)
5. [do] Horseback Riding in Wichita