Into the Whirlwind: My Unforgettable Night on the Michigan Freeway

Last Thursday (August 24 and a couple months back) for most was probably just the day before Friday. You just need to get through Thursday, and you are free and clear to enjoy your weekend, right?

Well, last Thursday for me was not just another day. You see, nearly a week before, my dad was admitted to the hospital after a fall. On the Tuesday following his fall, we had him transported to his new memory care unit in Brighton. He has been rapidly declining, and my sister, mom, and I have been visiting him daily.

On Thursday, I spent a few hours with him while he slept, and I began decorating his room, hanging bunting, some little pieces of art I made, and little messages on the walls so he would see them and hopefully feel happy. When I was done, I told my dad I loved him, and I left. I traveled I-96 the whole way to East Lansing, and I was on Grand River in East Lansing, not 2 miles from my home when I got the call from Hospice. Hospice explained to me that my dad was "active." I have no idea what that means, and in my head, I pictured my dad in running shoes, hopping around the memory care unit, and it gave me a bit of a giggle, but I knew that isn't what she meant.

I asked her what does "Active" mean. I don't understand. "Are you trying to tell me I need to gather the entire family for the LAST GOODBYES?" Yes, she said, anyone wanting to see him before he dies needs to get there ASAP to see him. SO, I called my sister and told her to gather her kids, I called my son Kenny, and I called my mom to tell her I was picking her up to go see daddy because of what I was just told by hospice.

I turned around to head to my childhood home to pick up my flabbergasted mother. None of us ever thought this was going to go this way. We really thought my dad was going to have more time to enjoy all the amenities his memory care had to offer. He had other plans though, and I think he just wants to go.

It's a good 50-minute drive to get to my mom. I travel I-96 East to the Stockbridge exit and then take 52 going South (we call it the back way) through Plainville and Gregory to the house I call home near Hell, Michigan. Yes, you heard me right.

My mom is ready to go; she is standing outside with her walker, her purse, and a very serious look on her face. She is ready to face whatever is waiting for her in Brighton. We traveled another 30 minutes to my dad in Brighton. Everyone is there: my sister Tammy, her husband, and her daughter and daughter's husband, and both Tammy's sons. My sons Kenny (27) and Will (22) are also there. My mom and I were the last to arrive. Jim, my husband, is in Italy on a business trip, but it's okay; my boys are taking care of me.

It really was a blessing because my dad is lucid. Earlier that same day when I spent time with him, he slept and wasn't talking to me, so this is really, really wonderful. EVERYONE was able to chat with him as he faced the wall in a fetal position. His eyes were half-closed, and most of what he was saying made little sense, but he knew each and every one of us was there.

We all spent hours there, relaying all the details of which landed my dad in the hospital and then into memory care. We told my dad how much we loved him and it was okay for him to move on to see all of those that went before him. My mom has always been his main concern, and we also told him we are going to care for her as he has for so many years.

My mom and I were the last to leave; it must have been around 8:30 pm. We made our way back to where I would leave my mom like I had done so many times before. I walked her in, to what seemed like a lifeless home. She was brave and said Joann (her best friend) was on her way over; she would be fine. I took the garbage out, kissed her, and told her I would call her like I had done SO many times before upon my arrival home, to inform her I made it safely home.

I set out for my drive home, through the windy dirt road near Hell, making my way to M-36. I listened to a podcast about Gwyneth Paltrow and her skiing accident. Honestly, not the best choice. If I knew what was looming in front of me, I would have chosen Morbid, because both Ash and Alaina are much better company, and it always feels like I am driving with good friends in my car. We laugh a lot.

From M-36, I turned onto 52, retracing the familiar path I had driven so many times, always scanning the horizon the whole way home. My biggest worry isn't a bad guy or a boogeyman in the dark while I drive. It is the critters that roam in the night. Deer. I don't want to hit a deer. It is really one of my biggest fears. It was then anyway.

While driving on 52, the phone rings; it's my son Kenny. He also lives in East Lansing and tells me how bad the drive for him from Brighton to East Lansing was. He said the rain falling was worse than anything he has ever experienced, and the winds were horrible! "They are forecasting 80 MPH winds. Where are you?" he says. I tell him I am halfway down 52, aand just a few miles from the Stockbridge on-ramp of I-96. "Mom!" he says, "Be careful." Me… "I'm fine, honey; don't worry about me. It's fine." In my head, I am thinking I AM MICHIGAN TOUGH (born and raised); KENNY IS A CALIFORNIA TREE HUGGER (born and raised in California and not used to driving in all sorts of weather). I will be just fine!!!!

Little did I know what was about to occur, or I wouldn't have been so lackadaisical.

I was super close to the on-ramp. The rain started coming down, nothing my Jeep Cherokee couldn't handle. The one thing in front of me that seemed odd at the time was a long line of semi-trucks nose to back, lined up in a single file line, parked in the left-hand turn lane. They seemed abandoned with their hazards on. I thought it was weird, but only because the line was so long it was blocking my entry onto I-96, and it was a huge inconvenience for me to drive around. (This should have been a red flag for me, and at that point, I should have pulled off into the gas station to seek refuge). NOPE, not me… I'm a tough Michigander.

As I entered onto the freeway, I accelerated like I usually do to merge. I was driving for about 5 minutes, and the rain really started coming down, so hard that it was like a snowstorm causing a whiteout. I could barely make out faint red taillights of others that were caught up in the storm. "My gosh, where the hell is the road!" I shouted to myself. There was a large semi in front of me; I thought it was jackknifed, blocking traffic, but it was trying to pull over to the shoulder, and and it was in both the left and right lane. I gave it space as it slowly maneuvered working its way to the right shoulder. I was moving very slowly, giving the semi a large birth, clutching my steering wheel working my way around the very large truck into the left lane, passing it and steering, inching my way to the right shoulder to park and let the storm ease up. I nervously glared into my rearview mirror and saw that same semi tumble uncontrollably tumble over and over south off the freeway and off the shoulder, leveling trees like toothpicks under its heavy cargo - the winds were insane. "Oh my God," I said, I was so, so surprised and scared by what I just witnessed. While I tried to gather what sanity I had left, ANOTHER semi just in front of me also tumbled just like the last one did and in the same direction. "Oh my God!" Yes, I said it again and again. My car was still running (damn, I thought. I knew I should have filled up my car with gas; it was less than a quarter of a tank). The wind and the rain were going crazy, swirling whatever debris wasn't fastened to the ground, and it was forcibly bouncing and rocking my Jeep. "Things" were hitting my car. In fact, I was certain someone rear-ended me, but no, it was just the wind and everything flying through it. Later, the only way I was able to explain both the fear and the ferocity of the storm was by likening it to having a whole bunch of "living dead" surrounding my vehicle and forcibly trying to gain access.

I was just waiting my turn.

I called my son Kenny (the hubs was in Italy, so Kenny was my best hope). I knew if I called him, he would relay any message I had for Will, my youngest son. I told Kenny I was thinking I am going to die. "I was just waiting my turn" to tumble, roll, and crumple like the semis I was in between. I mean why wouldn't I? I told Kenny I loved him and Will, and I wasn't going to make it through this storm. I told him to stay on the phone with me. I really was scared, but at the same time, it was as if I wasn't there, and none of it seemed real. At some point during the thumping and bumping of the storm, my back window was no longer there, and I only realized this when I could smell fresh, wet, earthy dirt and wet grass. The window was busted out, and the rain was coming in. It was at that moment I took the dog car seat that was in the backseat and put it over my head. Not the most attractive facinator, but it made me feel safer, as more debris wailed on my Jeep.

At 9:34 PM, the National Weather Service issued a tornado WARNING. I took a screenshot of the actual message (that was sent the next day) while I was still in the middle of the storm and also on the phone with Kenny. When that warning came in, everything made sense. I was experiencing a tornado, and I was in the middle of it. It maybe lasted 15 minutes, but it will stick with me for a lifetime. The thumping, the various items that I couldn't see hitting my car, the rain, the horrific wind, the smell of wet soil and grass. AND the fact that while I was on the phone with Kenny, I decided to follow a line of cars that were determined to get the hell out of there when everything settled.

I followed those cars; they drove over downed power lines, I drove over downed power lines (which a cousin reminded me that even though you have tires made of rubber, that was a science I never tested IRL, I have now, though). The line of cars drove around downed trees blocking the freeway; there were SO many, and often I drove off the road because it was the only way to get around so many things blocking the road. I really wasn't thinking straight, and I am really a follower in real life too - so I did - I followed. I witnessed crushed cars, mangled guardrails, and twisted billboards. The Semis, there were so many tumbled semis!

I was nearly 8ish miles from the Okemos exit, and while on the phone with Kenny, I drove as fast as the trail of cars in front of me would allow. Once I pulled into the gas station, I hung up with Kenny. I immediately sobbed because of the relief I felt, and all the horror I just went through, and the fact that I really felt like I escaped death.

Kenny and his fiancée, Anna, met me at the gas station just a few minutes later. What a relief to see them and hug them.

The following day, the news of the tornado that went through Williamston and I-96 was all over social media and the local news. Only one person died, which was very surprising to me. I thought more lives would have been lost given all I had seen.

I-96 was closed for a couple of days to remove the debris. There were so many downed trees with roots exposed and loads of soil still attached. I believe it was reported that around 17 Semis had tumbled in the storm. That tornado took the tops off of trees and all the foliage. No leaves were left, and it looked like winter had come early, leaving the few remaining trees barren. It honestly looked like a bomb went off.

What was once filled with lush, vibrant, strong trees was now... not.
Now there are a couple of things to fear while driving in Michigan, Deer and Mother Nature.

Keep your eyes peeled folks.

Until Next time.

Tracey