This morning, I was blasted out of bed by tornado warning sirens. The memory of last Tuesday’s devastation in Greenfield fresh in my mind, I knew the situation called for quick thinking. A glance out of the bedroom window to assess the risk was little help. Condensation from the rapidly dropping temperature and driving rain made it impossible to see out. Sensing my next decision could be critical, I tried to prioritize my most immediate needs: cell phone? Flashlight? Pants? Ah, coffee! Surely, the tornado could wait for me to make coffee.
A dramatic example of this kind of life-or-death decision is circulating on the Internet from a Greenfield traffic camera. It shows an intersection battered by high winds and rapidly darkening sky. Traffic is sparse but a semi that looks like a moving van slides through the intersection towards what appears to be an oncoming tornado and stops, rocking slightly under the force of powerful wind. Just then, a tanker truck coming down the outside lane, passes the semi and blows through the junction, straight into what is clearly now a black hole of oblivion. It disappears in the blink of an eye. Moments later, as the tornado rages ahead, we see the parked semi flipped over into the ditch and seconds after that the traffic camera is swallowed up by the tornado and the video goes dark.
To put everybody’s mind at rest, let me first assure you that both truck drivers miraculously escaped injury. The tanker was picked up by the tornado and tossed into some nearby trees, remarkably remaining upright. The driver’s name has not yet been released (assuming he is able to remember his name). But you have to wonder what was going through his mind as he crossed the intersection and saw Nature’s Cuisinart about to puree him and his tanker truck.
Heroes are made or lost during such fleeting moments. In 1970, when the Apollo 13 oxygen tank exploded, NASA engineers on the ground scrambled to figure out how to bring the astronauts home safely. They decided to use the lunar module as a kind of lifeboat and improvised a carbon dioxide filter, allowing the astronauts to breathe. It was a brilliant, though risky strategy. And it worked.
Achievements like this require careful assessment, identifying objectives, risk/benefit analysis, expertise, intelligence and luck. The tanker truck driver didn’t have much time to weigh his options. Maybe he was changing stations on the radio and was surprised to look up and see a giant tornado right in front of him. Should he try to turn around or aim for the ditch? He faced what I would call the “yellow light dilemma”. You’re coming up on a yellow light. Do you slam on the brakes and risk getting rear-ended or shrug and say, “To hell with it!” And hit the gas?
By the time I finished my coffee, the sirens had stopped and the threat of tornadoes had passed. There were a few new twigs on the lawn. And I had the satisfaction of knowing I had looked into the face of uncertainty and made the right decision.
Living in Iowa: Facing “the yellow light dilemma”
May 30, 2024