It's a twister! It's a twister!
- Zeke
The Wizard of Oz

Morris, Oklahoma. My hometown. A place of fond child hood memories involving big band music, ice cream socials, and cake walks. And yes this was in the 1980's. Morris was a place sheltered from the world. Doors were left unlocked. Stopping by the neighbors for tea or lemonade was normal. Directions were given in terms of go to the four way turn right and then turn at so - and - so's house and you are there. Every adult looked out for every kid. When you hear older generations talking about needing to behave in public or risk as paddling at every house on the way home, this is the world I grew up in. Simply put a slower pace.

1984

April 24 - My Great Grandma Reynolds had just come home from the hospital after suffering from a stroke, her tulips were in bloom. We went down to see her then Granddad Reynolds took us out to the garden to see the tulips, bright colors of red, yellow, and a red/orange were every where. It was beautiful. The local news paper editor saw us out there and took photos for the paper.

April 26 - I was 3 years and 34 days old. In less than one hour Morris changed. A F3 comprised of 3 sisters (three tornadoes twisting around each other) hit the center of town (I have heard talk from meteorologists stating that under the EF scale what we saw may have been a EF5). My parents were in OKC that night and I was staying at my Grandma's in neighboring Okmulgee. Okmulgee is a city on a hill - we watched the tornado from the front porch. Since that night it is like my memory is on hyper drive. I remember the bulldozers demolishing the remains of the city. The tulips in ruin. Playing on pieces of linoleum lying recklessly in the yard that had been our family home - the house my Granddad (Pap) had been raised in, the house I came home to after I was born, the hose that fell victim to the tornado while my Uncle and his dog Boots were inside. My parents home survived - only thanks to the many native pecan trees that towered over it sheltering it from the storm. I remember the feeling of the town after being placed under Martial law.

Exactly one year later a second tornado hit Morris during a candle light vigil at the high school parking lot.

In Morris we only have two time frames - before the tornado, and after.

In elementary school students only drew and painted tornadoes. Mine were always the same - a dark black wall cloud, a funnel, and tulips of red, yellow, and a red/orange.

After the town was never quite the same. Families did not return and rebuild. All the shops and stores left, save one. My Great Uncle's business "Reynolds Lumber and Hardware". Sadly the ice cream socials dwindled as did the big band nights, now they are no more. By the late 1980's drugs had begun to take hold of this broken town.

It has been 25 years. And yet to each who lived it is yesterday.