What Stands in a Storm: Three Days in the Worst Superstorm to Hit the South's Tornado Alley

What Stands in a Storm: Three Days in the Worst Superstorm to Hit the South's Tornado Alley


$22.50 $25.00 Save 10% Current price is $22.5, Original price is $25. You Save 10%.
View All Available Formats & Editions
Use Standard Shipping. For guaranteed delivery by December 24, use Express or Expedited Shipping.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781476763064
Publisher: Atria Books
Publication date: 03/10/2015
Pages: 320
Sales rank: 341,424
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 1.20(d)

About the Author

Kim Cross is an editor-at-large for Southern Living and a feature writer who has received awards from the Society of Professional Journalists, the Society of American Travel Writers, and the Media Industry Newsletter. Her writing has appeared in Outside, Cooking Light, Bicycling, Runner’s World, The Tampa Bay Times, The Birmingham News, The Anniston Star, USA TODAY, The New Orleans Times-Picayune, and CNN.com. She lives in Alabama.

Read an Excerpt

What Stands in a Storm


    Patti Parker watched the dark funnel grow until it filled the whole windshield, blackening the sky. Its two-hundred-mile-per-hour winds were furious enough to blast the bark off trees, suck the nails out of a two-by-four, and peel a road right off the earth, and it was charging at sixty miles per hour toward everything she loved most in the world—her children, her husband, their home. She was racing behind the massive storm, down the seven-mile stretch of rural highway between her and the life she knew.

    Smithville, Mississippi, was much smaller than Oxford, the postage-stamp of native soil that William Faulkner called home. Too tiny to appear on some maps, it was a 1.5-square-mile speck of a town about ten miles west of Alabama and twenty miles southeast of Tupelo, where Elvis was born. Set on the banks of a dammed river some locals believed tornadoes would not cross, Smithville was a place where women put on makeup before going to the Piggly Wiggly, planned dinner around choir practice, and took their families to Mel’s Diner for fried catfish and the town’s late-breaking news. It had one stoplight and five churches.

    Smithville’s earsplitting tornado siren, just fifty feet from Patti’s house, had been screaming so often this spring that she found herself sleeping through the warnings. A high-pitched, lugubrious wail, it sounded just like the air-raid sirens of World War II. When people heard it, they would run into their closets and bathrooms, although many would pause first and go outside to stare up at the sky.

    The sirens had interrupted Patti’s work again today in the neighboring small town of Amory, Mississippi. The executive director of the local United Way, she had been at her desk answering e-mails and reviewing disaster plans. When the sirens screamed she sighed and joined her colleagues in the stairwell, pausing by the coffeepot along the way to pour another cup.

    Tornado season hovered like an unspoken question over every spring in the South. It was just part of living here. But this time, when someone opened the metal doors beneath the stairs to peek outside, Patti noticed a sinister shift in the wind. She had told her husband she would wait it out and come home when the warnings expired, but she felt the urgent need to be with her kids. If she left now, she thought, maybe she could beat this thing to Smithville. Driving on the road was quite possibly the worst place to be in a storm, aside from a mobile home. But the pull of family overcame logic.

    And now here she was, caught behind a mile-wide tornado that was rushing immutably toward the center of her universe.

    At home in Smithville, Patti’s son, Johnny Parker, one day shy of his seventeenth birthday, was leaning into his computer, peering at the radar maps. What he saw made him prickle with fear. Severe thunderstorms were popping up across the state, dotting the screen with red and yellow tie-dyed splotches marching steadily northeast. He knew some of these storms were pregnant with tornadoes. A student of the weather since the age of four, when a storm nearly crushed his house with a toppled tree, he studied the maps, searching for patterns and clues that might foretell what the sky would do. His fingers flew over the keyboard, dashing off an e-mail warning to the hundred friends who followed his weather dispatch, which he always typed, because cerebral palsy hijacked his words somewhere along the path between his mind and his mouth. Johnny could type a blue streak and you would never know, reading his forecasts, that he struggled to speak.

    Johnny’s concentration was broken by the sound of his father yelling, calling him and his fourteen-year-old sister, Chloe, to come out and look at the sky. Together, they stared up at the terrible beauty: steel-colored clouds that whorled around like dishwater circling a drain. Johnny turned his head, and all he could hear was the terrible roar. He knew without looking what it was, and that it filled the Mississippi sky.

    “Get inside!” yelled his father, Randy.

    Johnny and Chloe raced to the innermost hallway, where a parade of tiny handprints on the wall, growing bigger through the years, marked the passing of their childhoods. They knelt and tucked themselves into balls, covering their heads with interlaced fingers, just as their teachers had taught them during tornado drills. The roar turned deafening, so large and loud they could feel it rumbling inside their chests. Their ears popped with the sudden drop in pressure as the walls of their home began to shudder. And then, in a moment most meteorologists will never experience, Johnny’s house came apart around him.

    Four miles away on the two-lane highway, Patti pounded the steering wheel, stuck behind a slow-moving pickup truck. Rain and hail were sheeting down, and wind gusts were shaking her car, but this pickup was creeping down the two-lane road as if the world was not about to end. She wanted to pass, but through the curtains of rain she could see the silhouettes of falling trees, huge and ancient pecan trunks crashing across the road. The truck went around them, and she followed its blurry taillights through the sluicing rain. And then the truck stopped dead in the road, blocked by live power lines and mountains of debris.

    Patti stopped the car, flung open the door, and ran to the driver’s window. An old man looked at her mutely. Her auburn hair snapped like a flag and her green eyes squinted into the wind as she heard her own voice, as if in a movie, rising in pitch with panic.

    “I’ve got to get through this! I’ve got to get home!”

    The old man watched her as she started running, guided by some primal compass through a splintered landscape that, stripped of all landmarks, didn’t look anything like home. She ran through the mud, hurdling limbs, dodging live wires, and finding her way through the shredded remains of homes she had passed that morning. Her heels scraped on the asphalt, her stride abbreviated by her pencil skirt, her jacket flapping like frantic wings. The storm had roared on into Alabama, leaving in its wake an eerie quiet that amplified the muffled cries emanating from broken heaps. It registered that these were the voices of friends, of neighbors, of people who desperately needed help—of people who might be dying. But her legs would not stop moving under the directive that looped through her mind:

    Get home—Get home—Get home!

    The house on the corner was mostly gone, but the piles of yellow brick signaled she was close to home. A neighbor crawled out of a gutted house and called out to her, and Patti yelled back, but could not stop her legs from running. As she approached the spot where her home once stood, she screamed for her husband.


    In her hand, her mobile phone lit up with a message from Johnny, the last thing his friends and family would read before the long silence.

    Get to a safe place NOW!!

  • Customer Reviews

    Most Helpful Customer Reviews

    See All Customer Reviews

    What Stands in a Storm: Three Days in the Worst Superstorm to Hit the South's Tornado Alley 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 16 reviews.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Although I've lived in "tornado alley" for many decades, reading What Stands in a Storm gave me a much healthier respect for the power of these phenomena. This book brings news to a personal level while giving the reader a better understanding of the physical dynamics at play. Worth every minute of your time!
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    This book captures from page 1. Poignant, heartbreaking & insightful. Strikes a cord of fear to those who endure each year's storm season.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    I will read this book again! It kept me on the edge of my seat for the day it took me to read it (I could not put it down) the author captured the emotions of those that were affected by the devastation with dignity and made it feel like I was there!
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    This book will captivage you. Some of the most vivid imagery I've encountered in a long time.
    Anonymous 5 months ago
    Makes you think. What will I do, what will they do. What courage they all displayed. What dispare, has made people bubble to the top class in humanity. Thank you for raw emtotion sometimes we need it.
    READAHOLIC-ZONE1 More than 1 year ago
    This powerful book grabs you into its pages and like the tornados, it spirals your emotions on a wild ride. It is a true story of the grisly damage done by the 62 tornados that took place in Alabama on April 27, 2011. Nevertheless, the author does not just focus on the horror of the situation, providing also the courage, strength, community's uniting, and the strength to move on after this catastrophe. I found not one bad thing about the writing of this book. It is written in three different sections: the storm, aftermath, and recovery making the story come together exceedingly well. I learned an immense amount of information about weather and meteorology such as all the history behind it including the accidental discovery of radar, how the tornado sirens came to be, the first airplanes P-61C's to fly into tornados taking the first measurements of them, in conclusion, the remarkable groundwork accomplished to get science where it is today. The book will have you shedding tears as you go along on the journeys of people losing loved ones. The turmoil of losing everything a person had plus the place where they once felt safe had called home. Henceforth, you will be smiling with joy when you read about people helping others they do not know. Also, when a ghastly event proves that compassion still lives inside us all even towards a rival. This book just blew me away (no pun intended). Thank you, Kim Cross for taking me on this adventure. "Thanks Netgalley for letting me give an honest opinion of this book"
    BettyTaylor More than 1 year ago
    Living in the South where there are so many tornadoes, this book caught my attention. It is a non-fiction but reads like a novel. In a three-day period in April 2011, 349 tornadoes touched down within “tornado alley”. It left at least 324 people dead and caused $11 billion in damage. Most of the dead were in Alabama. This book is the story of the people who survived (and some who didn’t) this hell on earth. It is told with compassion and with obvious heartbreak. Ms. Cross wrote so well that I felt some of the people were my friends. I felt their fear, their heartache, their strength. People put aside football rivalry and helped each other. Some history of storm watching is interspersed. Even this was interesting. After reading this no one should ever ignore the warnings the National Weather Service puts out.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    We are married we got married vetday moring pls for braxton becuse he pass out and for our frist son he is here he was born at st louis hosital at 6:40am he wirght 5pound 3 once 5 inch long we are still at hosital thank you for all of the prayers god bless mrs, patterson and mr,patterson
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    THAT stands in a storm.
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    This book has spired me
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Tfg ql n
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago
    Anonymous More than 1 year ago