Coming out of our school and looking toward the West, the sky would be dark blue like the blue from jars in the past. A storm was on the way and we had better get to shelter! This was a normal reactionary move. I grew up in what was called "Tornado Alley". The area of Texas along the Red River near Wichita Falls, which is famous for the many and often times, giant funnel clouds of certain devastation.

Spring was new and the March wind was whipping along hurriedly bringing a storm of unknown strength. For a young elementary age boy, this was a scary time. No one looked forward to the spring, because of the volatile weather. This definitely was my outlook!

My Mother, awaited in our car parked behind the school cafeteria, to take us home and prepare for the coming weather. As I opened the door of our green and white 1957 Ford, I grabbed one more glance at the imposing sky. Wow! Momma, it looks bad for us doesn't it? My Momma answer, "Yes, and we need to get home so we can go the storm cellar if we must"!

The traffic was congested around the school, because of the parents picking up their kids to hurry to safety. We finally go out of the maze of cars and arrived home just as the leading edge of the storm was beginning to lap at our home. "Hurry Dave," my Momma shouted as we ran into our old house to get some matches and water for the cellar. You always needed matches in the cellar to light the lantern, and water just in case the "big one" hit and you might not have water to drink afterwards.

While Momma was getting our supplies, I went back out to our front yard to get a better look at the sky. You always were vigilant of funnel clouds and this was no time to change the longstanding routine! As I pierced the sky with my young eyes, I realized this was not a normal storm; a storm with rain, wind, hail, and tornadoes! As the wind began to rip faster, the sand began pelting me like sandpaper rubbing on my skin. We had a windblown sandstorm!

I ran back into the house and closed the front door. I quickly got some towels and went to the sink wetting them as fast as I could. Momma and I took these towels and put one at the bottom of our front and back doors to try and block the sand from getting into the house. Next we stuffed the wet towels around the windows placing them the same way as the ones at the doors. We saved two for our faces and then settled in for a long and sandy blow of the wind.

Looking outside, the air was filled with dirt. Everything looked brown in color, and the actual distance you could see was limited. It became darker. Not with the look of night, but with a brown tint like the old pictures you might see with the same color tint. I know some people would have difficulty breathing during this dirt barrage. Momma and I just used our towels to protect our breathing if needed. Momma always took care of her boy!

Hours later, the wind would finally subside, and we could breathe normally without getting dirt in our nostrils and mouth. This was a great relief! What followed next was just not any fun! Clean up!

Cleaning up after a sandstorm was horrible. We had dirt everywhere! We swept sand and dirt from our floors, drapes, furniture, and anywhere else imaginable. Although, we had stuffed wet towels in our window and door crevices, the dirt still penetrated the house as if the house did not have walls. This clean up took a long time and you were definitely tired of dirt by the time you finished!

I no longer live in north Texas, so I asked a friend if these sandstorms still occurred during the spring. He told me no, because of the proper cultivation of the land to stop the top soil from blowing away. We both discussed the memories of this springtime rite of passage, laughing and remembering about this dirty springtime affair in which we both participated and would no longer relive except in our mind.

Dave