We're Not In Kansas Anymore

I grew up in Southern California, where earthquake drills were standard practice in elementary school and we never, ever hung anything over our beds. In case of an earthquake, I know what to do. Duck, cover and hold. Stay away from windows and tall furniture. Don’t run outside. Aside from a brief encounter with a blizzard while on a volunteer trip to North Carolina during college, earthquakes are the only severe weather with which I’ve had personal experience. Stepping off a plane at Louisville’s airport last week, I was surprised and a little bewildered when I noticed signs marked “Tornado Shelter” sporadically placed in the terminal. Immediately I had a number of questions: (1) There are tornadoes in Kentucky? (2) What does one do when a tornado hits? In movies I’ve seen people getting in bathtubs and running for underground shelters, but I have no other frame of reference. (3) The special tornado shelters at the Louisville airport appear to be storage closets. Exactly how many people will fit in a tornado storage closet and what makes it safer than, say, the bathroom? (4) Is a tornado really the only way to get to Munchkinland?

As usual, the internet came to my aid. A simple search revealed that yes, Virginia, the occasional tornado does appear in Kentucky. A particularly nasty twister ripped up downtown Louisville in 1974 and a 1890 tornado killed approximately 100 people in the area. Apparently, my impressions of where to seek shelter during a tornado are not too far off. See, television is good for something! Suggested places to take refuge during a tornado include a basement, storm shelter or small, windowless ground-floor room. As for the capacity and safety features of the Louisville Airport tornado shelters, I can only speculate. The airport’s website makes no mention of them and a Google search turned up only comments from other amused travelers. Whatever their specifications, these shelters certainly do make an impression when one arrives in Louisville. As I sat in the airport waiting for my outbound flight, days later, I watched as bedraggled people disembarking their planes stopped short in front of the “Tornado Shelter” signs, cracking into smiles, trying to peek behind the door and rifling through their carry-on bags for a camera. Perhaps this is just Louisville’s way of saying, “Welcome to our city, we’re going to keep you on your toes.”

As for how to get to Munchkinland, I’m pretty sure the portal is not from the Louisville Airport.