By Ronald Sitton

Power PC -- The refurbished Macintosh Performa 6400/200 within six months after I purchased it in 1997.

North Little Rock (March 2) - I spent today getting my old Mac working again as I tried to recover from the flu bug that knocked me down this week.

I knew I needed a computer to go to grad school 10 years ago. I did not know the meaning of disposable income back then. I was working for The Trucker, a national biweekly newspaper, and also freelancing for the Benton County Daily Record. I enjoyed my time, but I wasn't rich by any means. I didn't think I'd get a computer before I had to leave for Knoxville in August.

But on March 1, 1997, my fortunes changed. A tornado ripped from the southwest corner of the state of Arkansas right up through Little Rock, leveling the town of Arkadelphia along the way. Mama Macy, my grandmother, lived south of town in the Landmark community off Baseline Road in the same house she'd lived in since I was a kid and lived next door. She later told me she watched from her front porch as that tornado rolled down Chicot Road heading north.

The tornado took out the storage facility that held nearly everything I owned. I'd packed it tight when I returned from Nashville, and had just been out the previous weekend to get my music out of storage. I drove up to what was left to find almost nothing left.

Allurin' - One of three wooden fishin' lures remaining from that fateful day.

I say almost ... a bookshelf I'd purchased upon returning to Central Arkansas lay an easy hundred yards away from the remains of my storage unit. My furniture, including my brother's dresser, was nowhere to be found. I had stored a tacklebox full of 25 wooden fishing lures that were keepsakes of Papa's. I found three stuck in the mud, one as far as 75 yards away; the rest were gone. A stainless steel spinnerbait reel from the 1930s that still had the original leather case ... disappeared, along with my 19" color TV, stereo, papasan, Fantasia commemorative box set, two 35 mm Minolta cameras, baseball cards, Hot Wheels from my childhood, etc.

What seemed amazing at the time was the things that actually remained. Boxes of books sat in what should have been the corner of the facility; they hadn't moved an inch. Crates of photo albums, a little rain-soaked, sat within yards of the wind-slept slab that once provided the foundation for my storage unit. More boxes, these filled with all of my newspaper-wrapped dishes, sat undisturbed a few feet away.

Two glass cases that held knickknacks of my childhood made it through the tornado, but at least one didn't make it past the vandals who broke out the glass to steal a double-sided dagger that my best friend brought me from Iraq when he returned from Desert Storm. They left the money, but I don't guess they saw it due to the shiny silver-wrapped casing that housed the blade.

Like many people, I had no insurance. The only thing I could do was turn to FEMA for assistance; it lent me $5,000 after I put together a list of everything I lost. I still have the leather book Jennifer Griffin gave me the next day to lift my hopes with the inscription, "Thanks for making my heart smile." With the FEMA money, I bought a Macintosh, a stereo and a mountain bike.

About a month later, I received a letter from Grandma Hemmert in Inola, Okla., a place known as the Hay Capital of the World. She sent me an April 10 clipping from the Inola Independent describing an odd thing that happened to her. A Searcy man found a scrap of paper in his front yard that had her name on it. He found her on the Internet and sent it to her. That's a lot of flying for a little piece of paper.

In the News -- This April 10, 1997, clipping from the Inola Independent describes the event.

As I listen to the news talking about the recovery in Dumas this week and watch the turmoil in Alabama, it all comes back crystal clear to me. The grandmother of my old roomate, Bradd Estes, lives in Dumas and had the tornado come within a half-mile of her house. Luckily, she only lost power.

Mountain Bike -- This bike took me up and down the hills in Knoxville, Tenn., and in New Concord, Ohio. I still ride it to classes today in Monticello, Ark.

I wrote about the effects of that tornado 10 years ago, i.e. the effects to a truck stop that was blown away in Arkadelphia. I wonder whatever happened to the lady that owned it. I wonder whatever happened to the person who stole my dagger. At least I know my loss turned into a gain as I couldn't have made it through grad school without a computer. I still have the stereo and the bike, and I recently got the Mac back from a friend who no longer used it. I no longer have the friend who gave me the book, but I guess you're lucky for the things you keep when a tornado blows your way.