I lived in Tornado Alley for 14 years. There was a pole in the front yard of my Tulsa home with a siren. It seemed to blare once a week in the early 1990s.
The drill was simple: everyone piled into a middle hallway in our three-bedroom home and a mattress was pulled over our heads.
The first time we left home without a babysitter was one of the most horrific nights in Oklahoma history. Ten people died when a tornado hit just a few blocks from our home.
Our daughters were 11 and a few weeks short of 13.