re: #278 Wendell Zurkowitz ((slave to the waffle light))

We lived close enought to lake Michigan to be spared the worst, but I heard one once in the distance (or at least my mom told me that sound in the distance on a stormy night that sounded like bricks being dumped was the sound of a tornado and nobody better call my sainted dear departed mom a liar)

I’ve seen several and I remember story of my Great Aunt who once called for my Great Uncle to come to the front door and look at the “funny cloud”. He grabbed her and the kids and ran for the root cellar. It missed and the story was funny family lore rather than tragic.

He was a WWI vet and I loved going to their house for Sunday chicken dinner and to listen to music on the very old radio in the parlor. No joke. Good people.