by Kevin Lamb

Created on: July 12, 2009   Last Updated: July 24, 2009

Growing up in Kansas our family spent many evenings on the front porch of the old farmhouse. We'd sit and watch for hours as the big summer storms rolled in from the distance. Living in the flat lands of Kansas we had survived some of the toughest storms nature had to offer but nothing ever compared to the summer storm back in 1974.

Living in tornado alley in the Midwest is just the same as living anywhere else. You have to adapt to your surroundings, and make the best out of what you got. But, when Mother Nature points her finger at you it's time to run and hide.

We lived smack dab in the middle of Kansas in a little town called Bunker Hill close to Wilson Lake. Some nights we'd take a ride up to the lake and watch the big storms feed off of the lake. I guess you could say our source of entertainment was lacking back then.

As we sat on the porch that afternoon back in 1974 little did we know that this particular day would make history. Our minds were off in the distance watching the clouds and the squall line as it dipped and little tornado spouts began to form. Usually they only lasted a short time then quickly disappeared.

It was like a game we played; counting the tornado spouts. When you lived with storms like we did and spent may nights in the root cellar you begin to obtain a false sense of security. So, when the big summer storms came they were our main source of entertainment for the evening.

That afternoon began the biggest outbreak of tornadoes ever recorded in a 24hr period. Over 148 tornadoes were confirmed in 13 states; and we were just sitting on our porch waiting for the show to begin.

Many small tornadoes had touched down on our farm in the past. The biggest tornado we had (F-3) took out both of the barns and half of our house. That tornado formed behind us as we were watching another one off in the distance. We barley made it to the root cellar that time.

The sound the F-3 tornado made as it passed over the cellar was deafening. It could only be compared to a train and an F-16 colliding at full speed five feet over your head. When we emerged from the root cellar after the storm we hardly recognized the farm. The entire area had been completely re-sculpted by Mother Nature in a very expensive way.

After that tornado I began to feel that we could survive almost anything. With insurance money we remodeled and rebuilt the farm better than before; but it only lasted for a little while.

The F-3 tornado we

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