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I think they should name that place tornado alley. When a storm blew up, we and dozens of other drivers had to pull off the side of the road. I was afraid the semi in front of me would be overturned. The rain and wind were so blinding we couldn’t tell which side of the highway had a ditch, which we knew we may have to hit, or a power line, which we knew we didn’t want to be near. The hail on the roof of the car was terrifying and made it difficult to listen for the dreaded train whistle we’ve all been warned means an approaching tornado. We put pillows on our heads to drown out the terrifying pounding from the storm—we were in a little Honda Civic hatchback and I just knew we would soon be airborne. Terrifying. If I lived there, I’d have to have a storm cellar.