Where Was God?

I recently interviewed the producer of a faith-based documentary about the May 20, 2013, EF-5 Moore, Okla., tornado called "Where Was God? Stories of Hope After the Storm." The movie follows a handful of families and individuals on their road to recovery after the tornado. You can read the full story here.

While I was talking to Steven, the producer, I discovered that one of the women in the movie is a woman I took several pictures of on May 20. I thought her face looked familiar in the trailer and remembered it from the pictures I had taken. I showed Steven and he told me about her.

On art, therapy and tornadoes

I spent 12 weeks this spring volunteering for Art Feeds, an art therapy program, in Plaza Towers Elementary, one of two schools destroyed in Moore, Okla., on May 20, 2013, from an EF-5 tornado.

I spent Monday mornings in one of two 5th grade classes, rotating every week. Some of the kids were very open about their experiences with the tornado, sharing stories about their homes being destroyed or their dog never coming home. It was always brought up matter-of-fact. Living in the wake of the tornado, after all, is just a reality of their young lives. Others hardly mentioned it, but brought up other life issues. One week the project was to do a self-portrait. Students were instructed to draw themselves however they saw themselves, inside and out. All but one child drew themselves with smiles. A boy drew himself frowning and crying. I asked him about it. He said he's always sad. He said he's medicated and just feels numb to everything. It was heartbreaking to hear such a young person share something do distressing.

A few weeks later the project was to use cardboard boxes to rebuild Moore the way they envisioned it — fill in all the empty spaces left from the tornado with whatever they want. Students were told they could do anything — from the funky to the practical. The same sad, sweet boy decided he would build a pharmacy — because people still need their medications. Many students still did silly — video game stores, Sponge Bob stores (as seen below), or houses with swings and slides. But others wanted to be sure there were plenty of hospitals and new schools for everyone. It was incredible watching these bright, hopeful minds imagine the future as they reflected on a dark spot in their pasts.

One of the hospitals built by students.

2013: Highlights

For me, 2013 was a year of many ups and downs. There were a few heartbreaks and also a handful of triumphs. Read on for a recap of my last twelve months.

January:
The year started off with a bang when I found out I was pregnant. I was shocked, thrilled and absolutely terrified.

February:
February started off without a hitch, and I felt incredibly lucky on Valentine's Day to be celebrating a new chapter in our lives — I even made a card themed around how big our baby was supposed to be that week: an olive. Unfortunately, a few days later, I was devastated when I was blindsided by the beginning of a miscarriage.

Tornado Aftermath Day 3: Baby

The third day of tornado coverage I got a call from my public relations source from the local hospital. She asked me if I was busy and told me she had a woman for me to interview if I could get to the hospital in 15 minutes. The woman was willing to share her story of being in the middle of progressed labor at Moore Medical Center when the May 20 tornado struck the hospital. It only took me a second to get in the car.

Braeden Immanuel aka "Twister" was born just hours after a tornado struck the hospital his mother was laboring in.

I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I arrived at the hospital, but when I met the mom, Shayla, I was struck by her peaceful demeanor. Despite having survived a tornado while in the middle of labor — she was nine centimeters dilated for pete's sake — Shayla was collected, serene and almost matter-of-fact as she related her story to me and a broadcaster. 

Shayla's sweet baby boy was born just hours after the tornado ripped apart the hospital she was in. Shayla and her husband had selected the baby's name, Braeden Immanuel, weeks before his birth. Ironically, Immanuel means "God is with us." Shayla and her husband attributed their safety to the will of God. Shayla was bold in sharing her testimony of God and her gratitude for God keeping her, her family, her nurses and all others in the building safe. Nobody in the building was seriously injured.

Shayla with her family.

As we were wrapping up the interview, a nurse came running up to greet the family. It was one of the nurses that cared for Shayla as the tornado approached. The nurse was responsible for piling warm towels on top of Shayla to protect her, as well as kneeling besides her to pray as the tornado hit the side of the building. It was fun to witness the two women reconnecting after such a traumatic experience.

Shayla and her nurse.

Read my complete story on Shayla here. 

Other medical stories I wrote included how hospital employees acted on their training and mental health clinics offered to children.

Always,

Tornado Aftermath Day 2: Plaza Towers

After I got back from checking out volunteer efforts at a local church, I came back to the newsroom to find a note from my editor asking me to call a woman who agreed to talk to us who had been in Plaza Towers Elementary when the tornado hit.

Plaza Towers Elementary in Moore, Okla., after it was hit by an EF-5 tornado on May 20, 2013.

Tornado Aftermath Day 2: Volunteers

I didn't sleep well the night of May 20. I laid awake as the numbers and images from the tornado bounced around in my head. I felt sick to my stomach the entire night, but when it was reasonable to get back up again, I dressed and headed to work. Upon arriving in the newsroom, my boss sent me out to interview volunteers helping with relief efforts. I arrived to find JourneyChurch buzzing with happy activity. I was blown away to see so many working as the hands of God, like literal disciples of Jesus Christ. They organized and prepared food and water, folded blankets, piled pillows, sorted clothing and more. That is what has touched me the most about this entire experience: Seeing the divinity in others as they selflessly reach out to serve, to lift, to protect. It is truly humbling and inspiring. People weren't kidding when they called it the "Oklahoma Standard." Okies take service to heart and don't mess around when it comes to being their brother's keeper.

Writing lessons with Miles, part 3

At Campus Corner

For our third writing lesson I took Miles to Campus Corner in Norman to do some observations. We sat, listened, felt and generally observed our environment and then wrote down everything we could think of. After we conquered that, we started doing some people watching. We observed how people were dressed, what they were holding and how they carried themselves to hypothesize about their personalities or what's happening in their lives. We, of course, wrote all that down, too.

Miles working on his observations

We then headed back to my apartment and talked about using our observations to "show" instead of "tell." One of the men we observed was walking with very tense shoulders. We both decided maybe he was stressed or nervous. He was headed towards campus so we figured maybe he was a student. We described him in a scene, with tense shoulders, a crinkled brow, etc., as a way to show our reader that the character was stressed instead of just telling them he's stressed.

After a few goes at it, our hour was already over!

Always,

Photo Essay: May 20, 2013, Moore, Oklahoma, EF-5 Tornado

When I went into work May 19, 2013, to cover a local tornado I felt mildly inconvenienced. It's selfish but it's an emotion common to many journalists: We cover too many depressing topics to take things too personally. We become experts at compartmentalizing so we can get the job done and get the job done well. Still, with that said, I wasn't prepared for the next afternoon's EF-5 tornado in Moore, Okla. May 20, 2013, is a day that will live in my mind forever.

This is my photo essay on my day's experience:

Sirens go off around 2:30 p.m. in Norman. The entire building takes shelter in the basement. I grab my purse and notepad and continue transcribing notes while we wait for the all clear — it's not so much that my work needs to get done that urgently, but I need to distract myself from what the radio is saying. Tornadoes terrify me. We're told we can head back upstairs. We turn the TV on in the newsroom, and I feel sick to my stomach as I hear the meteorologist say over and over the word "deadly." We know this is going to be bad, but we're not sure how bad. I think about how my pre-assigned beat for tornadoes is the hospital beat. I try to brace myself for the worse: For an unimaginable amount of injuries and death. All I feel is numb. The meteorologist is tracking the storm, shouting out it's path through Moore. I turn to look at my editor, who lives in Moore, she is quietly sitting behind her desk wiping tears from her eyes. She calls her house to see if the line still works and we both pray that her home is still standing. We continue to watch footage for minute after horrifying minute until it appears it's coming to an end. We're given the all clear to head out to the scene and I load up with my coworker, Caitlin, to see what we can cover. She's the education reporter and we decide our first goal will be to find one of the schools that's been hit.