I can’t say I remember everything, but some memories never leave your mind. It was summer, 1953. One year later, Doctor Sam Sheppard’s wife was killed, supposedly by a one-armed man, in Bay Village, Ohio. Dr. Sam was later convicted for the murder, and even later paroled and exonerated for the crime. Some other time, a television show, “The Fugitive” was loosely based upon the Sam Sheppard Case. The tornado occurred in mid summer, in Cleveland, Ohio. At that time, we were living in Parma, but the tornado ran right down the street that we had previously lived on. Dale Avenue, a street that ran between West 105th street and West 117th street. The house right next to our old house had the front completely ripped off. I could see right into the bedrooms of the kids whom I had played with. I don’t know to this day if those friends survived that tragedy. I was seven at the time. Friends of my parents, Willie and Sue, as I knew them had the side of their house torn off and all their belongings were sucked out of the house. Willie and Sue had hidden in the fruit cellar, in the basement and survived the great storm without a scratch. They told me that the wind sounded like a great freight train running above them. There was much devastation throughout Cleveland’s West Side. Places I had been and parks I had played at were leveled. The main storm never reached our home in Parma, just wind, hail and rain. Forward three years, now 1956. We moved back to Cleveland, now living on West 129th Street. That summer, another storm blew through the West Side. No one ever declared it as a tornado, but it wrecked equal or greater damage to the West Side. That night, we (my family) were at a wedding reception for my Aunt Sharon and soon-to-be Uncle Don. The party was being held at a Great Aunt and Uncle’s house somewhere in the west 80’s streets, north of Lorain Avenue. I was sitting outside with my second cousin, a young girl. I can’t remember her name these days, but I do remember she was two or three years older than me. She held my hand, and asked me if I was scared. Being the man I was, at the great age of 10, I said no, but I was lying. It scared the living hell out of me. This time, we lost a tree in front of our house on West 129th. There was no damage to the house, however. This storm blew south out of Cleveland into Brookpark and Parma. Federal’s Department store burnt down and the roof of the Lyceme Theater collapsed. Two of my cousins narrowly escaped the collapsing roof and ceiling in the theater. Forward to 1968. At this time, I am living in Lakewood, Ohio renting the upper half of a double house on Edanola Avenue. While working on a 1932 Ford Roadster in the detached garage, the sky turned black and huge raindrops bombard me, golf ball sized hail, sticks and other wind-blown debris. I hid behind the car in the garage. A big storm, later determined to be straight-line winds blew in off Lake Erie during the 4th of July Celebration. Several people were killed while attempting to hide under trees at Lakewood Park. Two years later, in the summer of 1970, I met a girl who later became my wife. Since meeting her, I haven’t had any storms in my life. Thank you Vija, you have calmed me, and the world around me.