I opened my eyes and looked around what had once been my bedroom, my sanctum. It was now an unrecognizable pile of rubble. Deafening silence surrounded me. The lower half of my body was pinned and beginning to go numb. I was alone and terrified. I had just been through the most harrowing experience of my life. It was April 27, 2011, and I had been hit by an EF4 tornado.

The morning began like most others. I got up and ate breakfast while watching CNN, then got dressed and headed for class. I remember being excited because it was my last day of teaching music, and I wasn’t particularly fond of that class. After class, I went to the Baptist Campus Ministries to help with a luncheon we were giving, but due to the storms of that morning, many people were unable to attend. My minister sent me home. I came home and took a nap and then ate.

After my nap, I walked outside and took a peek at the sky. Some of my neighbors were out on the balcony, and we discussed how dark the sky was. It was darker than I had ever seen it. It looked like night.

I went back inside and, because my five o’clock class was cancelled, I decided to check my email and watch some television. As I was sitting there, the tornado warnings came on the screen. Having grown up in Tornado Alley, I paid them no heed. After all the time I spent waiting for the tornado that never came, I was certain that this one wouldn’t come either. I was sadly mistaken.

I heard a sound as though all the world’s oceans had combined into a single loud roar. The sound struck fear into my heart. I instantly thought that it was a tornado, but then thought that it was surely not what I was hearing. I went to the window and peered out.

There, behind the other building in my complex, was a gigantic, swirling gray mass. It was unquestionably a tornado, and it was heading in my direction.

My fear was crippling. I stood at the window and stared at the tornado, unable to move. The only thing I could do was think or verbalize the words, “Oh my God!” It was at that moment that my fate was changed. The voice of God spoke to me and said, “April, get your phone, run and get in your bedroom, and lay down in the floor.”

I was shaken out of my reverie. I instantly snatched my phone off of the bedside table, ran to my bedroom, and hurled myself into the floor beside my bed. Mere seconds later, the tornado hit. I lay facedown and listened as the roar grew louder and the tornado tore through my apartment. I heard a myriad of crashing and banging, as though my entire apartment was being bent. Then, just as suddenly, it was gone and I was left lying in the eerie silence. I took stock of the situation. There was something large and heavy pinning my behind. There was a piece of sheetrock inches from my head. My apartment was leveled. My parents were three hours away and didn’t know that I had been hit. It could be days before my friends became concerned enough to come and look for me. I had no idea if help was coming or how long it would be. I was losing feeling in my legs, and my air supply was limited. However, an EF4 tornado had leveled my apartment and I had survived, so I was blessed. I put my face down in the floor and said a prayer, thanking God for sparing my life but also asking him to send help.

After that, I began a pattern. I would scream for help a little while, and then I would attempt to call 911 for a little while and then pray for a little while. At one point, my phone got service, and I got text messages from friends, so I tried to text them back and have them call for help, but, like my 911 calls, my texts did not go through.

After a while, one of my screams was answered. Someone said, “We hear you. We’re coming to get you. Just hold on.” I was under so much rubble that the rescue workers had to work for hours, but they were eventually able to move enough rubble and cut a hole in a piece of sheetrock and get me out. I was rescued at last! The workers put me in a net and carted me across the rubble to the waiting ambulance.

I was at first taken to DCH, but after someone from the hospital came on the ambulance and told us that there was no room for me, I was carried on to Princeton in Birmingham. The emergency room was crowded with other tornado victims. I was taken for numerous scans to make sure that my spine wasn’t damaged. They finally settled me in the emergency room for the night. The next day, a room opened up, and I got to move upstairs. The doctors determined that my legs had suffered a crush injury and that the muscle in my right leg was destroyed. This leg muscle secreted a poison that caused my kidneys to malfunction. I was placed on dialysis for 12 days before my kidneys started working again. I was in the hospital for a month, followed by a month’s stay at an inpatient physical therapy rehab to learn how to walk again, among other things. When I came home, I continued physical therapy outpatient for about six weeks and was able to get down to a cane. I moved back to school in mid-August and continued outpatient therapy here for about a month and gradually phased out the cane.

I am now almost fully back to normal. I go to class and have even been able to go to most of the football games. However, I still bear the scars of that night, both physical and emotional. I have a scar on my neck from the dialysis line. I can’t hear about the six students who lost their lives without wanting to cry. Driving through Alberta City and seeing where my complex used to stand still breaks my heart. Yet, most predominantly, I have realized how fleeting life is and try to be thankful for each and every day. I think that is a lesson we can all take from April 27, 2011.