Sixty-eight years ago Miss Ann Elizabeth Fowler Hodges was napping on her sofa when a meteorite the size of a grapefruit crashed through her ceiling and struck her on the side.
She was severely injured. She could walk, but not without shouting unchristian expletives with each step.
This happened outside Sylacauga, Alabama. The year was 1954. Reportedly, witnesses from three states saw a streak of fire in the sky and heard loud booms. Later that afternoon, when Ann’s husband, Eugene, got home from work he asked how her day had gone. She told him there had been, quote, “a little excitement.”
“A little excitement” is exactly how I would describe living in Alabama. Especially when it comes to things careening from the sky.
Because in the two weeks I’ve been an official resident of the Yellowhammer State, it has already snowed, sleeted, flooded, hailed, and today they’re calling for tornadoes. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow a meteor the size of Lebron James crashed through my roof, followed by a category-three hurricane.
This
morning, I awoke to read my newspaper amidst a Biblical downpour. The first news headline I read said: “Tornadoes, damaging winds, and hail will all be possible today.”
It was like the fortune cookie from hell.
All this weather business got me thinking. What kind of weather am I to expect now that we’re living in Alabama? To learn more about this pressing issue, I contacted one of my friends in town who is a local weather buff.
My friend, Bucky, is one of those guys who has high-tech meteorological equipment mounted on his roof and knows everything about weather. He carries a picture of James Spann in his wallet.
“Alabama is unusual, meteorologically,” said Bucky. “It’s one of the only states with both a spring and autumn tornado season.”
Simply put, Alabama has a reputation for bizarre weather. If hurricanes, tornadoes, or flash floods don’t…