I live in Louisiana. Life here is always accompanied by hot sunshine, humidity, and a certain degree of natural disasters.

If I had to pick one memory that stands out the most, it would be the tornado I experienced in Alabama in 2021.

At that time, I was staying in a small town on the outskirts of Alabama to meet a friend.

It was a typical southern rural area filled with trees and fields. Usually, it was a quiet and laid-back town, but that day was different.

Everything changed in an instant.

I first felt that the sky looked strange, as if it had been sprinkled with charcoal dust.

And I felt that the wind was sharper than usual.

But at some point, the sky began to change to a strange color.

A peculiar hue that seemed to mix gray and green. Above it, a stillness settled as all sounds ceased.

Soon, the sirens blared, and upon hearing the words "tornado warning," everyone began to move.

I took shelter with my friend's family in the basement, and just before closing the basement door, a horizontal stream of rain and a cloud of gray dust filled my vision.

And then, a deafening roar.

It sounded like a train passing over the house as the rumble vibrated.

The tornado lasted no more than 5 to 6 minutes.

But in that short time, half of the town was gone.

When I came up from the ground, trees were uprooted and fallen, sheds had been blown away, and houses stood bare with missing roofs.

Utility poles were down, blocking the road, and a truck was lodged in the neighbor's yard.

At first, I was speechless.

For those who had lived their whole lives in that town, it must have been an even greater shock.

And... the news of 3 fatalities

That night, the local news reported news that weighed heavily on my heart.

Three people had died, and several were injured.

Among the deceased was a mother from one family, and another was an elderly person inside a trailer swept away by the tornado.

The third victim was said to have died after being struck by a tree while heading to a shelter.

The quiet and warm rural town had become a completely wounded space in that short time.

Since that day, I look at the sky more often.

After that experience, I developed a habit of looking up at the sky.

If the color of the clouds looks strange, I feel uneasy, and if the wind is particularly strong, I check the news.

Even after returning to Louisiana, if the weather is cloudy, a part of me feels anxious.

Above all, I learned that a tornado is never just something on TV.

And how powerless the phrase "it will pass in a few minutes" can be.

In the face of nature, humans can only be humble.

The tornado did not take everything that day, but made me rethink everything.

It made me realize how small and unprepared we are, and how precious the ordinary moments of each day are.

The Alabama tornado I experienced was not very long.

But the mark left by that 5-minute whirlwind will likely never be erased from my heart.

I still think about it.

What if the wind had blown just an inch in a different direction that day?

How deep the fear I encountered in that short time and the sorrow of the people was.

If you are reading this and live in a tornado-prone area, do not hesitate when the alarm sounds, and evacuate immediately.

Those few minutes can save your life.

I saw it, felt it, and returned alive.