We are quickly approaching the season that, after living in Alberta for four years, still gets me quaking in my boots: tornado season.
I know, it’s ridiculous. I grew up in B.C. where we were reminded all the time in our classroom drills, about an impending long overdue earthquake that will tear through the fault zone destroying Vancouver, Victoria, Seattle, Portland and Sacramento and other small communities.
But that just seemed to be the price we paid for getting to live on the beautiful west coast and dealing with the constant rain instead of the blustery winters experienced almost everywhere else in Canada.
Plus, we readied ourselves. We have annual drills where we went under our desk, covered our heads and counted to distract ourselves. I was ready. I even had a desk in my bedroom at home. So monster earthquake rated at magnitude nine? Bring it on.
I realize I’m going a little over the top with my worries.
There’s only about 15 tornados in Alberta a year, and for the most part, they’re level F0 to F2, which means they’re just going to cause minor damage to some plants or a roof top.
But they still happen: the second deadliest Canadian tornado touched down in Edmonton in 1987, leaving 27 dead and 253 injured. Twelve people died in a tragic 2000 tornado in Pine Lake.
These aren’t hypothetical earthquakes, these are real events. And when I see the swirling dark cloud hovering outside, I get nervous.
The first real tornado warning I experienced was when I was living in Didsbury and a fellow reporter and friend was working on a story about a funnel cloud that was spotted a week prior.
Apparently, the experts were saying it could have been an F3 had it touched down. Great.
The radio became my best friend that summer, always on in anticipation of those emergency beeps and announcement to get into the basement.
And one July day, the beeps came crackling through the speakers. A tornado was coming and we were told to seek shelter in the basement.
I ran downstairs with some water (there was no time to riffle the cupboards for food), clutching my radio and donning a helmet.
The basement was unfinished and I sheltered myself in an empty room, bracing myself for the worst.
Twenty minutes later, the all-clear message was announced. I think a tree was knocked over in Cremona.
Yes, I did and still do, feel quite silly about that day. I no longer throw on a helmet or think every dark cloud holds my fate. But I still do try and be prepared. It was the national Emergency Preparedness Week in the beginning of May and information was posted at www.getprepared.gc.ca
Canada’s emergency preparedness website offers these tips when readying for a storm:
• stock up on heating fuel and ready-to-eat food as well as battery-powered flashlights and radios.
• if a severe storm is forecasted, secure everything that might be blown around or get loose, such as garbage cans and lawn furniture
• trim trees and branches to reduce the chances of them falling on your house
• stay away from windows when indoors
• use a cell phone instead of a land line
• if in a car, stop away from trees or power lines that could fall on you
Best of luck, get your emergency kit ready and take a stay cool.
