By George “Butch” Hughey
What I remember:
It was 1973 and I had just finished my first year in Engineering at “The University” and was planning to go to summer school. There were news reports that Sunday of tornado warnings all over the state. So that afternoon, Barbara and I took Mr. Pearson’s movie camera to Wheeler’s Mountain in hopes of getting a movie of a tornado. That’s dumb thing #1. The sky was clear that day and nothing happened. We spent an enjoyable afternoon there. It’s a really beautiful view. You can see in all directions with a clear view of Brent, Centreville, the Cahaba River, the surrounding hills, and the radar tower near Pondville. Nothing happened. We went home.
We were living near the Country Club. We had our own early warning system, Mother. A little before seven, she called and said that a tornado had been sighted around Demopolis and Greensboro. From past experience, we knew that anything coming through Greensboro was headed directly at us. Then I did another dumb thing. Grabbed the car keys, flew out the door, and headed back to Wheeler’s Mountain. Leaving Barbara and Matt there was a really, really dumb thing. That’s dumb thing #2. Plus, I forgot the movie camera. That’s dumb thing #3. It took a few minutes to get to the base of Wheeler’s Mountain with normal driving. I was flying that day. I jumped out of the car and ran up the mountain. Got to the top a little after seven. When I got there, I didn’t notice anything unusual at first. Then the wind picked up. I could see a giant cloud rolling across the ground through Brent. No funnel, just a rolling cloud. A smoke stack at the sawmill in Centreville was operating. I still remember how the smoke was being cut off and blown horizontally as soon as it cleared the stack. It had to be the stack in Centreville. The one in Brent at the Olon Belcher Lumber Company where I worked had been blown down, I later found out. I never missed it that evening. I never noticed that the radar station was missing either. We had seen it earlier that afternoon. The globe on the tower had been blown away. I heard later that the guys at the radar station tracked the tornado right up until it hit them. I could sense the majesty of the moment, but didn’t realize the magnitude of what was happening. Not truly knowing what was going on, I could see the destruction that was there before me, but not completely comprehend it. It was an awesome sight, but I didn’t have a clue of what was really happening to the people in Brent and at our church. I even stepped to the cliff and sang “How Great Thou Art” at the top of my lungs. It didn’t really rain up there that afternoon. There were just a few very large drops that fell. It was getting dark. All the lights were out all over town. I could see automobile headlights making their way through the dusk. I headed back down.
By the time I got to Centreville, it was dark. Passing the Centreville Baptist Church, I headed down the hill to turn onto Highway 25, but as I turned, I could see power lines down in the road. There were already people there working. I weaved my way around the cables and headed on home, still unaware that anything bad had happened. On the left, on a hill up the road, is a small subdivision. At that time there were a few new brick homes. It was dark and I couldn’t see anything. Then a bolt of lightning flashed and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw those houses – gone. Then another bolt showed clearly that all those houses were gone. That was the moment I knew that something terrible had happened. When I got to the turnoff that goes toward the Country Club and our house, a huge oak had blown down, blocking the road. Backing out onto 25 in a panic, I went back down to the previous street and made my way home. It was a beautiful sight when I saw our house still standing. The storm had passed us by, missing us by a block with nothing disturbed. A small piece of paper was hung in the grass and was fluttering gently in the breeze. Matt was two and had slept through the whole thing.
We drove up to check on Mother and Daddy. They had gone to check on Momma Dixie. The second story of her apartment building had blown away. That was the second house she had lost in a tornado. Later, I drove up to Gary Springs to check on Cooter and his family. He ran the hospital Maintenance Department. I thought they might need some help there. Half way up the road to Gary Springs, I found them. They were trying to clear a tree blocking the road. He climbed over the branches and rode with me to the hospital. It sure was a good feeling when we turned the corner and saw that the emergency lights were on. The back-up generator had started up automatically and had worked perfectly.
The next day we needed some additional electrical supplies for the hospital, so we went to the sawmill in Brent to borrow some. We came in the back way. A National Guardsman stopped us, but let us pass after we told him what we were doing.
I didn’t go to summer school that summer. I was asked to help get the mill running again. I had just single-handedly finished installing the lighting in a new building (100′ X 200′). It had been blown away. So, I did it again after the next building was put in.
I still think about the stupid thing I did that night and how thankful I am that Barbara and Matt weren’t harmed.
A few more things:
- A dead cow in the top of a tree near the sawmill.
- A bathtub in the top of a tree near the Dairy Queen. So much for getting in the bathtub for safety during a storm.
- Wooden timbers driven through metal walls at the sawmill.
- The time clock at the mill stopped at 7:25.
- Daddy dropped his hammer in one of the church walls when he helped build the church. He went down the next day after the storm to find it, but never did.
- All of those old and beautiful globe lighting fixtures in the old Brent Mercantile that were destroyed.
- Some suspicious characters in Ward’s Hardware Store that night. They left when Cooter and I pulled up.
