Adventures in Alabama

Last weekend, Elizabeth and I had a near death experience.

Well, okay. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little.

We were traveling back from my friend Meredith's wedding in Jackson, MS, when we first caught wind of danger: the radio station we were listening to began to mention tornadoes in Alabama. Lots of them, and close. The good news was that the bad weather was south of us. The bad news was that it was traveling northeast. We, of course, were traveling straight east. We started to speculate regarding our options.

"Well," said Elizabeth, "they probably won't be an issue by the time we get to that area."
"Yeah," I replied hopefully, "maybe we can outrun the storms."

I sped up so that we were traveling over 80 mph, and we kept the radio station turned up so that we could hear any updates. My mother called. Several times.

"Girls? Do you know that there's bad weather in Alabama?"

Cal called. "Just wanted to make sure y'all were aware of the storms in east Alabama."

We got it. Thanks. As we neared the town of Anniston, we got a report on the latest warnings. Several tornadoes had been spotted, one just east of Anniston in the next county over. The county through which we'd be traveling in merely a few short minutes. Still feeling invincible, however, we decided to push on. Actually, we didn't really decide anything, we just didn't pull over, mainly because of our ambivalence each time we got to an exit. We kept saying, "we'll just pull over at the next one if it's bad" or "maybe we can go just one more."

Unfortunately, we did that one too many times. The weather took a turn for the worse, and suddenly the wind was rocking Elizabeth's Explorer and rain was pelting at the windshield. About that time, we heard the announcement on the radio:

"Folks, if you're in your houses, take cover in a closet or bathroom. If you're in a car, pull over to the side of the road and lay down in a ditch."

Elizabeth and I exchanged glances. Neither of us found the idea of waiting out the tornadoes in a ditch on the side of I-20 real appealing. We decided to pull off at the next exit, just ahead. And we did. However, we were in the middle of Alabama, and this particular exit was confirmation: absolutely no sign of life was in existence anywhere around. It was at that moment, stopped at the stop sign at the offramp of the interstate, that we heard the first mournful wail. The sirens had begun.

Elizabeth took one look at the blotches on my neck and face (due to my increased anxiety) and suggested we turn around and head back west an exit. I couldn't have agreed more quickly, and we soon found ourselves heading back to Anniston.

A few harried minutes later, we saw a beacon of light in front of us. Was it heaven? we wondered. Had we died back there in the tornado and were now heading towards the glow of those pearly gates we'd always heard about? For a minute, we thought that might be the case.

But then, out of that shimmer of lights, we started to make out glimpses of red as well. Red letters, actually. Red letters that spelled out the next best thing to a heavenly reunion with those who had gone before us: TJ Maxx. (cue host of angels singing "Haaaaallelujah!")

My mom happened to be on the phone with Elizabeth at the time of the sighting, demanding mile marker numbers so that she and Dad could track precisely where we were in relation to the tornadoes that had been confirmed. When Elizabeth told her the good news of our soon-to-be haven from the storms, my mom promptly replied with a relieved, "Well, that's great news! If you're gonna die, die in a TJ!"

What followed was 2 1/2 hours of unhurried shopping in the world's most perfect store, a leisurely dinner at Longhorn next door, and an hour of browsing sales at Target, also in the same shopping center, all the while keeping in touch with our parents who could survey the locations of the storms and let us know when all was clear to leave.

When we got home safely, 13 hours after we had departed Jackson that morning, we were exhausted and our wallets were a good bit lighter. However, we certainly couldn't complain: having a legitimate excuse to spend hours in a place that we both consider the next best thing to heaven had been worth it all.