Sunday, April 09, 2000

Powerful storm taught powerful lessons

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Neighborhoods regrow like sunflowers from Tornado of '99

BY TOM O'NEILL
The Cincinnati Enquirer

        A year ago this morning, Tristate residents got a short lesson on the power of a tornado, and began a long lesson on the power of each other.

Then: The Arshonsky home was destroyed by the tornado. | ZOOM |

Now: The Arshonsky family at their new home in Symmes Township. (Glenn Hartong photo) | ZOOM |

        But the canvas of lessons continues to be a work in progress. So too does the recovery from the April 9, 1999, tornado that killed four people and caused $125 million in damage.

        The most enduring lesson: Be prepared. And appreciate life. It can be short.

        “Well, be understanding a little bit more when you see other people go through a similar thing,” said Roger Dickerson, whose home on Lakewater Drive in Montgomery Woods was destroyed. “And secondly, have a contents list for your insurance company.”

        Officials learned too. Last month, Hamilton County expanded by 11 its network of emergency sirens, to 186. Another nine outdated models will soon be replaced.

        Today the landscape of Montgomery Woods, the worst-hit area of Greater Cincinnati, is still dotted with construction crews, portable toilets and noise. The undercurrent of circular saws and hammer-against-nail is so constant most neighbors have stopped noticing.

        At 2 p.m.today, residents will hold a volunteer appreciation at the Sycamore High School commons.

Then: The Makowski home. | ZOOM |

Now: Gene and Pat Makowski rebuilt on Valleystream Drive. (Glenn Hartong photo) | ZOOM |

        “The number of volunteers was just amazing,” Pat Makowski, whose Valleystream Drive home was destroyed, said in words echoed by neighbors. Volunteers for weeks cleared debris and provided food and assistance.

        Most homes here have been rebuilt, including the Makowskis', and kids again ride their bikes on the sidewalks.

        Of the 17 homes on Valleystream and Lakewater drives, before you get to Shadowhill Way, five remain under construction. One property remains a bare foundation. Reconstruction on another home just started two weeks ago. One boarded-up house has yet to be demolished, its roof a blue tarp.

        Everyone knows the word Tyvek. That's the name of the white insulating “home wrap” you see before a home's exterior walls are built. Many yards have little or no lawn.

        “I can't believe I'm still here,” said lead carpenter and project coordinator Tom Woeste of Able Services, as his crew of three did exterior work on nearby Windhaven Court, a short cul-de-sac off Shadowhill. For many workers, it's been a full year of steady work. And it's not over.

Then: Homes on Valleystream Drive and Cornell Road were among the worst hit. (Craig Ruttle photo) | ZOOM |

Now: Homes have been rebuilt. (Gary Landers photo) | ZOOM |

        But neighbors wave to each other more often now, and at least the spring rain cuts down the dust. For awhile.

        “Flooding gives you (warning) sometimes days in advance,” said Dick Kimmins, spokesman for the Ohio Emergency Management Agency. “But tornadoes are the most violent weather phenomenon and always the most unpredictable.”

        This we learned. Lee and Jacque Cook of Cornell Road in Montgomery were killed when the tornado's 260 mph winds disintegrated their home.

        Of the five people killed by Ohio's 19 tornadoes last year, four died here. Two motorists were killed: Charles Smith, 40, of Loveland, on Interstate 71; and Donald Lewis, 38, of Blanchester, on I-275.

Early morning
        It was 5:17 a.m. Four dead. Dozens injured. Twisted debris, everywhere.

        The devastation made national news. Ten days later, Vice President Al Gore showed up.

        “I'm really sorry for all you have been through,” he told Laurie Arshonsky of Valleystream Drive in Montgomery. “All of you have suffered a lot.”

        Mrs. Arshonsky and her husband, Steve, were blown 30 feet from their home by the tornado. Their comeback has been a lot farther. ('We're just glad we are alive' - April 14, 1999 story)

        “I didn't grieve at the beginning because I was just trying to survive,” said Mrs. Arshonsky, 47, who suffered five cracked ribs and a punctured lung while Mr. Arshonsky had a fractured hip and multiple cuts. “Grief for the lives lost. You can deny it for a while but not forever.”

        She didn't. During a physical therapy massage several months ago, she felt the built-up tension scream from her muscles, then leave. She just lay there, sobbing.

        And then it was over.

        The Arshonskys decided not to move back. They now live in Symmes Township. Like many victims, the Arshonskys now have a sharpened appreciation of the irreplaceable: family photos, which were under a table in her Valleystream Drive family room and were not damaged. And tea cups, which were.

        “It was my grandmother's,” she said. “It was all scraped, but it shined up.”

        Many lost such mementos, but they also worried less about the easily replaceable, such as furniture. Because insurance ($115 million), small-business loans to the uninsured ($7 million) and state aid to local municipalities ($3 million) covered the losses, the federal government did not classify it as a federal emergency and offered no assistance.

The twister bounced in Indiana and Ohio, heading northeastward.

        In all, 95 homes were destroyed. Most were in Sycamore and Symmes townships and Montgomery. Dozens of businesses were damaged, many in Blue Ash. According to the Ohio Insurance Institute, 3,955 insurance claims were filed.

        By comparison, 17 Southern Ohio counties were declared federal disaster areas in the 1997 Ohio River flood.

        Many neighboring families grew closer. Often, all it took was a simple gesture.

        The bedroom of Mrs. Makowski's daughter, Susan, was obliterated by the tornado. Everything was gone, including her cherished rosary beads. Susan, who is in her late 30s, had been disabled in an auto crash about 20 years ago. She landed safely on a piece of drywall in the yard.

        “Mark Hatfield, he was so sweet to our daughter,” Pat Makowski recalled.

        About two days after the Friday morning tornado, Mark overheard Susan talking with a woman who had just found her own rosary beads. Susan had lost hers too and they were still missing.

        “He gave her a set of rosary beads. Not that he bought, but a pair that were his mother's he got for his First Holy Communion,” Pat Makowski recalled, her voice slowing down.

        “I would do anything for him,” she said.

A pitch in the dirt
        The neighborhood's rebirth took another step forward three weeks ago.

        That's when Sycamore High School varsity baseball pitcher Andrew Grgurich looked in at a Princeton batter, eased into his windup and bounced a curveball in the dirt.

        It was the first pitch of the first game of the new season. It also was the team's first game back since the tornado rendered the field unplayable.

        “Oh, it's great to be back,” Sycamore head coach Larry Chialastir said while Andy, a junior, worked into — then out of — a bases-loaded jam in the first inning. Sycamore won, 11-7.

        Reminders of the tornado are never far. On Lakewater, high up in a tree in Mark and Wanda Hatfield's front yard is a shirt, which waved in a recent afternoon breeze. The shirt has been there since the tornado. The Hatfields have no idea whose it is, and it's too high up to retrieve.

        Their front yard is a mud-field of construction equipment and stacks of bricks. The Hatfields oversee construction diligently each workday.

        Their situation is in stark contrast to the home across the street, on Valleystream Drive.

        When the home of empty-nesters Ed and Carolyn Wallace was reduced to rubble by the tornado, they decided to sell.

        But there's a twist: The buyer isn't staying either.

        Home builder Jim Kuyath, 70, bought the lot for $68,000. “We'll make some good money,” he said, showing off some of the two-story home's features. Of the six homeowners on Valleystream a year ago, half moved away. The new house is nearly complete. The price just dropped from $299,000 to $269,000.

What seeds do
        Fine tile work frames the arched kitchen window, but through it one can see the blue tarp draped atop the destroyed Durham home on Lakewater. It will soon be demolished.

        Inside, sunlight through the roof-tarp casts an eerie blue tone to the debris not yet removed.

        But the tornado left not only debris amid residences, but camaraderie among residents. And seeds. Lots of seeds.

        The tornado hit in early spring when many flower seeds were stored in garages, awaiting planting. When garages were destroyed and their contents scattered, so too flew the seeds. By summer, they had emerged.

        “There were sunflowers everywhere,” Mr. Hatfield said.

        Here, they look forward not only to more blooming flowers, but also to the meaning behind them.

       

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TORNADO: Powerful storm taught powerful lessons
A dog survives, a family feels blessed
Crisis response: 'I'm the person who saved my family'
Sense of humor turns overwhelmed to upbeat
Day of thanksgiving for those who helped
Disaster team helped, then quietly left
Lessons in the whirlwind
Memories of kindness ease memories of fear
More and better sirens expand storms warnings
Painting portrays sunflower rebirth
The graveyard of the trees
The roof went straight up, the house flew away
Tree a reminder of a boss who cared
Tornado of '99 archive