My version, also redacted some names:
June 2nd, 1965, my parents, my older brother and I livedabout four miles northeast of Hale Center on the farm where Mom still resides. It was a few weeksbefore I turned 10, so my memories of the tornado are fragmented and a little jumbled, as a child's recollection will be. Things that I noticed and remembered weren't the same as an adult's memories. The death and destruction were not as appalling as they should have been, and it was all somewhat of a big adventure.
It seems that Hale Center was in the middle of Tornado Alley in the 1960s and 1970s, and thunderstorms and the accompanying tornadoes were much more common. I recall often standing in the front yard of our farm house, and seeing one and sometimes two or three funnel clouds at a time, every spring. So it was not an unusual event for us to hear on TV or radio that a tornado was in the area, or spot ominous clouds ourselves. We didn't have a storm cellar, so we would often drive the mile or so to our neighbors, Lloyd (Sr.) and Marie Louthan's house and join them in their cellar.
That was what we did that June night. While we were there, we heard on our transistor radio that a tornado had hit Hale Center. We returned home when we were sure it had passed, and Dad prepared to head to town to help. My older brother and I wanted to go, too, and weren't happy to be left at home. (Brother) at 13,would have been more help than me, but dad looked at the darkness where the lights of Hale Center should have been, and was not willing to risk us with the downed power lines he was sure were there. And I suspect that he didn't want us to see the dead and injured,especially as he had no idea if the casualties were a few or a few hundred.
After dad left, we spent a lot of time in the yard, looking at the receding clouds and the darkness toward town, as if we could discern what was going on. What we did see is my most vivid memory of that night. The storms had moved past with little rain, and visibility was excellent. We had a good view of both highway 87 coming into town from the northeast, and Farm Road 1424, coming in from the north. Both roads appeared to be lit with a solid stream of headlights, from the cars of hundreds of people rushing into town to help. And it seemed as if every third or fourth car had a red beacon on top, indicating a fire truck, police car, or ambulance from the nearby communities. It was a spontaneous outpouring of aid and assistance that impresses me to this day.
The next day and those following, when Mom, Brother and I did get to town, we were amazed at the destruction and the randomness. There might be total destruction in one spot, a house untouched next to it. Our church, First Baptist, was our first stop. The 1930s portion looked intact from the north, but the roof had a huge hole in the south slope. I recall that the local paper described it accurately as if a huge fist and punched it in. The entire building appeared to me to have been shifted off its foundation by six to twelve inches. I really wanted to go inside and look around, but we were strictly warned to stay out.
We were allowed to go inside the sanctuary, which had been built in the 1950s, and is still the current auditorium, having been rebuilt after the storm. Another vivid image comes from there. The walls were fully intact, but the stained glass windows that I loved were in shambles. Huge portions of the roof were gone, exposing the girders. I was able to look up through the biggest hole, and see a small aircraft flying over. That scene also stays with me still.
The youth of the church helped with the cleanup, gatheringBibles, hymnals and other salvageable items from the auditorium, and from the classrooms that were in the 1950s portion, south of the sanctuary. Some of those classrooms were on the second floor, where the walls and roof were missing. Today I marvel that the adults let 10-year-olds wander around such destruction relatively unsupervised. We thought nothing of it at the time, so maybe kids were just expected to be more responsible back then. I recall that Nancy... and Jerry... were two of my friends who were also salvaging items. I picked up a souvenir during the cleanup, a small shard of stained glass I found below the west windows. I still have it today. Years later, I learned that Jack Anderson, one of the deacons, had picked up a large amount of stained glass. He set the pieces into a thin layer of cement on an outdoor table. That table is currently in the Hale County Farm and Ranch Museum.
The 1930s sanctuary for FBC had a bell tower, but the bellhad not been rung in several years. It had been feared that the old belfry was not strong enough to stand up to the stress. The story is, that before that portion of the church was demolished, several men grabbed the bell rope, and yanked on the old bell to bring it down. It wouldn't budge, and a bulldozer had to be used to topple it. I guess the carpenters from the 1930s got the last laugh. The bell was carried home in Dad's 1964 Chevy pickup, and sat out by our farm equipment for a year or so until the new (present) bell tower was built.
The next few days aren't real clear, but I certainlyremember the press coverage, the tour of the damage arranged to satisfy the curious and collect donations, and the long, long cleanup. I believe that some National Guard equipment was brought in to help, and I remember that Dad and many other farmers brought in their grain trucks to help haul away trash. The city dump was a mile west and a mile south of Hale Center,and I rode along with Dad on several runs hauling debris. There was a line of trash from the tornadothat stretched the length of the dump ground. One wonders what an archeological dig of the old dump might discover. One common item I noticed and marveled at waswhat seemed like hundreds of foot-long, torpedo-shaped hunks of iron, with a loop in one end. It wasn't until years later that I realized they were window sash weights, used in old houses to counterbalance the window when opening and closing.
Over the next year, it was another adventure for me as an elementary school student to attend church in what was then the high school. We met in the auditorium for the church service, and in the classrooms for Sunday School. I guess it's another sign of the different times, in that no one objected or questioned the use of school facilities by a church. My Sunday School teachers would occasionally play hooky, and drive us over to where the sanctuary was being rebuilt, and new classrooms built for the church. I enjoyed snooping through the construction site and imagining what the new church would look like.
When the church rebuild was finished a year later, aThanksgiving and reunion service was held in the new First Baptist Church. The most memorable things to me as a child were first, the packed house. I believethe estimate was over 500 people in Sunday School, and the sanctuary was full to overflowing. Second, I recall that every former pastor that could attend, did. And to a 10-year-old, it seemed as if each and every one of them gave us a full thirty minute sermon.
I didn't miss the 1906 Ward School that was damaged and demolished. It was big and old and intimidating to me in first and second grade, and the upper floor was unused and said to be unsafe. I certainly didn't miss the cold basement and the long music classesthere. I was going into fourth grade, so I didn't have to attend school that fall in the portable classrooms as the younger classes did until Akin Elementary was built. I do recall seeing the portables on the practice field south of the football stadium.
As a child, the loss of homes and lives didn't bother me much. I didn't know anyone personally and I really didn't have the maturity to understand the gravity of the situation. The worst thing about the tornado I noticed over the next few years was the destruction of the classic downtown businesses. Dark brick two story buildings with wood floors and early 20th century character were replaced with 1960s generic buildings and empty lots that have never been filled. Over the next few years, the notoriety of Hale Centercontinued. Any time we met people on a school or shopping trip, their comment always seemed to be "Hale Center, that's where you have all the tornadoes."
About 15 years after the tornado, I purchased the Springer home at ...West Sixth, a half block east of the church. It, the Flake home, and the historic Akeson home, all on the north side of the street, escaped the wrath of the tornado. Most homes on the south side of Sixth Street in that block were destroyed, and I believe that one of the fatalities was across the street from that house. The post office on the northeast corner of the block also sustained heavy damage. During the time we lived in that house, I went up in the attic to check on some wiring or insulation. I was surprised to see that there was evidence of a large hole, maybe three feet across, that had been patched in the south slope of the roof. I am sure it must have been damage from the June second tornado. Like the rest of Hale Center,the previous owners of my house had cleaned up the damage, patched over the scars, and moved on with life. You never really forget the damage, but you count your blessings, thank God for your neighbors, and carry on.
