Texas Disasters: True Stories of Tragedy and Survival by Mike Cox

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Table of Contents

Read an Excerpt

Just before 6 p.m., a monstrous black cloud dropped from the skies on the south side of town and began its death march across the defenseless city. "The giant tornado was a massive black column extending from the low striated base of the inky clouds to the ground," a National Weather Service report later said. Huge pieces of debris thrown high in the air were clearly visible from miles away as the storm cut a swath of destruction through the city. Eyewitnesses described details of the storm differently, but they were unanimous on one point--it was an awesome, terrifying experience beyond anything they had encountered before.

The police officers at Memorial Stadium could attest to that. They watched in horror from outside the stadium press box as the cloud-containing at least five funnels-moved straight toward them. Knowing they could not outrun it, they bolted down the stadium stairs, huddled against a steel stairway railing, locked their arms together, and prayed. One of them later told a reporter that his only prayer was that his body could be identified. The roar of the storm was deafening, and the men were blasted by swirling debris.
But then the roar stopped. The mile-wide tornado moved on, looking for more victims, and the police officers were alive. The winds had torn the speakers from their radios, their handcuffs had been sucked out of their leather cases, and their service revolvers had been ripped open. Neuberth's watch had stopped at 6:05.