By Sheila McLaughlin and John Kiesewetter
The Cincinnati Enquirer

Darkening skies and mounting winds always set Laurie Arshonsky on edge.

Five years after she and her husband, Steve, were ripped from their bed by a killer tornado, a Weather Alert radio gives them some comfort.

But, they are always thinking of the worst.

IT'S A TWISTER

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"Mentally you have to have a plan," says Arshonsky, who was hospitalized with a punctured lung, broken ribs and a fractured back after she landed in her yard. "I'm always thinking if something were to happen, where would I go. I think about basements and rooms without windows."

As the Tristate moves into peak tornado season, authorities say new technology, improved communications and the lessons learned from the predawn killer twister of April 9, 1999, make them better prepared to warn residents of dangerous storms and to respond to damaged areas.

Since that whirling dark fury of 260 mph winds tore through Blue Ash, Montgomery, Symmes Township, Loveland, Maineville and Morrow - killing four, injuring 65, destroying 95 homes and damaging dozens of businesses - there are 55 percent more outdoor emergency sirens in the Tristate, and hundreds of weather radios have been provided to schools and daycare centers.

And heightened domestic security in the wake of Sept. 11 terrorist attacks pushed local counties to better coordinate disaster planning and relief.

Advances in satellite and radar technology have given the National Weather Service quicker information and help forecasters better detect which storms are potential killers, says Greg Tipton, a meteorologist at the National Weather Service regional office in Wilmington.

Historically, destructive tornadoes have hit nearly every part of the Tristate, some more than once, and local officials warn that residents must take responsibility to prepare themselves and their families.

"If you hear the TV or radio say, 'Bad weather is coming,' then heed it and follow instructions," says Don Maccarone, Hamilton County Emergency Management Agency director.

"It's up to the individual to be aware, so as not to be caught off guard at 2 in the morning. Government can only do so much."

Damage was extensive in the Blue Ash Industrial park in the aftermath of a 1999 F4 tornado that touched down in the early morning hours. (Craig Ruttle photo)

New sirens

In the eight-county Greater Cincinnati area, 175 new outdoor warning sirens were installed since the 1999 tornado. Symmes, West Chester and Liberty townships are among the suburbs with sirens that had none five years ago.

But only 47 of Hamilton County's 187 sirens have battery backup in case of power outages, Maccarone said. Such an alternative power source five years ago could have made a difference in Montgomery Woods, the neighborhood hit hardest in 1999.

The siren atop Sycamore High School, which had worked during a test two days earlier, failed to sound when the tornado struck at 5:17 a.m. It may have been knocked out by a violent electrical storm before the tornado, disaster officials said.

"If that siren at the high school had gone off that morning, there would have been fewer people thrown out of their beds down the stairs," says Montgomery Woods resident Bruce Bardes.

In Northern Kentucky, Campbell County officials have invested in a special siren to make sure that patrons hear severe weather warnings at the popular riverfront entertainment complex, Newport on the Levee. After the siren sounds, a voice can tell patrons where to go and what to do, said Ken Knipper, director of Campbell County Emergency Management Agency.

Not all the Tristate is covered by sirens, mainly meant to warn people who are outdoors. Few are located in the sparsely populated rural areas in Hamilton, Butler, Warren, Clermont and Campbell counties because too few people would hear them.

Weather Alert radios and television weather broadcasts provide the best warning for people inside, he said. Advances in technology since 1999 also allow anyone watching TV or the Internet to track potentially dangerous storms with better accuracy, or to receive weather warnings on cell phone or pagers.

Arshonsky received a weather radio as a combined birthday and Mother's Day gift a month after the tornado. It stays on 24/7. The noise gets on Arshonsky's nerves sometimes.

"It's an irritation, but it's a necessary thing," says Arshonsky, who has gone through three types of therapy to help her heal from the trauma of the 1999 storm.

Weather radios were top sellers immediately after the tornado, when people realized they shouldn't count on hearing the outdoor warning system. The demand here was so great that many Radio Shack stores had waiting lists.

"We literally cleaned out the whole country. All the available radios were shipped to the Cincinnati area," says Danny Lane, Loveland Radio Shack manager.

The proliferation of weather radios reaches far beyond homes. Schools, nursing homes and most government buildings also have them today.

The American Red Cross Cincinnati office, with the help of Clear Channel Communications, used a $1.2 million surplus in 1999 tornado relief donations to offer weather radios (700 in all) to every school, licensed day care center and senior center in the 19-county Tristate area served by the agency.

Troupes of volunteers

Tornadoes -- short lived, but destructive Click to view an Acrobat PDF file (390k) detailing: how tornadoes work; warning sirens; and regional tornado history.

Domestic security efforts helped boost the number of volunteers equipped with skills to provide disaster relief, and the National Weather Service expanded its "weather spotter" program, training 500 volunteers a year to be "eyes and ears" for meteorologists.

Hundreds of new volunteers - the Citizens Emergency Response Teams established in counties and cities last year as part of homeland security - have been trained to provide basic first aid, firefighting, light rescue, searches and crowd control until police or firefighters can arrive.

"The idea behind CERTS is: Take care of yourself. Take care of your neighbor. Take care of your neighborhood," Campbell County's Knipper says.

Candace Gunnarsson has her plan. Her family will head to the basement, which is stocked with water, food and emergency supplies.

The Gunnarssons moved into a rebuilt home in Montgomery Woods in 2002. When the tornado hit, they lived in another section of Montgomery that wasn't seriously affected. The statistician and mother of two said the family's preparations had nothing to do with the storm.

"We bought all the safety supplies and everything, and we have it stored in the basement. But I think everybody did that with the terrorists. I think 9-11 affected me more than the tornado. I think a part of that is because I'm from New York," she says.

"I felt (the tornado) was a very rare occurrence and it wasn't going to happen again."

But Betty Bruser, whose Kildare Drive home in Green Township was leveled in 1974 by the Tristate's most powerful tornado - an F5 with peak winds ranging from 261 to 318 mph - isn't so sure. Thirty years later, she still worries about tornado season.

"Lightning strikes twice. I really believe it. You have that feeling because it was so horrible," she says.

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Injured beyond help

"We knew Lee and Jacque Cook. I was one of the last people to talk to her. We were just beginning to get the medics in. She had a severely broken neck. There were some other people fairly seriously hurt including a couple who had an absolutely panicked 12- or 13-year-old son. They were very visible when (medics) first came in, so they got the first care. It upset me because Jacque was hidden in the brush and trees across the street. I felt like I had let her down by not getting medical care to her right away. (Medics) said, 'Rest easy. If there had been a fully equipped emergency room 20 feet away, we could not have saved her.' "

Bruce Bardes, who lived three doors from the Cooks, who were killed, on Cornell Road in Montgomery Woods on April 9, 1999. He and his wife, Eleanor, took shelter in their basement, then began helping neighbors after the tornado hit.

Huddled in prayer

"I looked out and there it was across the street. I grabbed Susan's arm. I said, 'Let's go into Bobby's closet.' They always say get in the middle room. We were trying to get the dog in there, a big shaggy dog, and she wouldn't come. My son's clothes were in there. We just put our heads all the way down and prayed. Then it was over. We were sitting down, but there was no closet, no walls left. God must have been with us. I can't understand why we didn't get killed."

Betty Bruser, of Kildare Drive in Green Township, and her teenage daughter survived the tornado that demolished their home on April 3, 1974. The family dog was found alive in the rubble the next day.

Grateful to have survived

"I tried to wake my husband up, and he was really asleep. I remember flying through the air. It felt like I was being ripped in half. I remember ... flying around, thinking this is like a bad dream. I don't remember hitting the ground. Then I woke up, and thought, 'Oh, I'm alive.' I'm very grateful for the experience. It made me really evaluate my life and live in a different way. It just made me appreciate being alive."

Laurie Arshonsky and her husband, Steve, were thrown 30 feet from their Valleystream Drive home in Montgomery Woods into their front yard. Their son, Bobby, then 12, wrapped them in blankets and flagged down paramedics for help.

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E-mail smclaughlin@enquirer.com and jkiesewetter@enquirer.com