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Featured Listener Comments Section: Contents List |
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Listener: Jack Britton Kyle
Category: General
Date: 11 May 2010
Time: 11:58:12 -0700
Remote Name: 64.216.33.206
Lubbock Tornado
Jack Britton Kyle: My memories of the Lubbock Tornado
On May 11, 1970, I had gone to meet a friend from church at the Pancake House
located at that time on the east side of Ave Q and the corner of 8th Street.
When I arrived, between 8:30 and 9pm, the sun was shining. It was a beautiful
spring evening.
My friend and I were seated at a table by a west window when it began to get
dark and the wind started blowing quite hard. The windows started to shake, so
we decided to move to the counter. The U-shaped counter was located on the east
side of the dining room in front of the kitchen door.
There were two ladies (mid-thirties) sitting at an inside booth and they
couldn’t stop laughing. I remarked to my friend that I would love to know what
was so funny. It was raining and the wind kept getting stronger. An older
gentleman sitting at the counter suggested that someone should prop the door
open. My friend and I got up and went to the front door and propped it open. We
returned to the counter, but something told me not to sit down. Instead I walked
around behind the counter and stood in the kitchen door- something I had never
done before. The two ladies were passing by the counter when the first tornado
hit the building. I grabbed them both and threw them down behind the counter. I
was down on my knees with them on either side of me. Their heads were in my lap
and I was leaning over them. The roof was gone and ice cold rain was pouring
down my back. The only thing that I could think of was the 23rd Psalm. I
remembered my uncle telling me that in WWII, when he thought that he might die,
he would recite that scripture over and over to himself. I was shaking so hard I
could hardly stand it.
When the wind stopped blowing and everything got quiet, I told the two ladies
that we should stay where we were and not get up. The ladies were still
laughing. I asked, “What in the world are you laughing about?” The answer given
will have to remain a secret.
Within a minute or two we were hit by another tornado. This one lasted about the
same length of time as the first. Comparing the sound of a tornado to that of a
freight train is fairly accurate. I have been in many wind storms and there is
no comparison. The entire building was shaking.
When the wind stopped and all was quiet once again, a man came from the back of
the building and invited us to join him and a few others. The roof was still
intact in one portion of the northeast corner of the building. I think there
were about five of us hiding behind the counter. We walked to the back and found
others hiding in a room that housed what looked like a very large boiler.
Although it was dry, I didn’t like the idea of being in a room with a boiler
full of hot water. The group I was with agreed and returned back to the front
and the counter. This time we piled some tables over the top of the counter. No
sooner had we finished than we were hit by yet another tornado. Once again we
hid behind the counter, this time with tables over our heads. The third hit
seemed to last longer than the first two.
When all was quiet again people began coming out from hiding places all over the
building. We all felt that we were truly blessed; not a one of us had been
injured. One of the young men that was with us lived across the street on the
south side of 8th Street, and after checking to see if his house was alright,
invited all of us to his apartment. I am not sure how many were there, but we
all managed to get inside. The young man led us in a prayer of thanksgiving
before we went our separate ways. We were all thankful that we had survived
three tornados.
Many experts claim that there were only two tornadoes, but those in the Pancake
House that night know there were either three separate tornadoes, or one turned
around and came back for a second hit - which is not likely.
Walking back out into the streets, we discovered that most of the surrounding
area had been destroyed and the streets were unusable. We did not have any idea
how large an area had been affected. My parents, Elmo and Lottie Kyle, were
living downtown in the 1400 block of 10th Street; my first thought was to get to
them. It was very dark and still raining. I could barely see where I was
walking. The streets were filled with downed trees, power lines, street lights,
and debris from destroyed houses and high rise office buildings. When I found
what I thought was the corner of Ave N, I turned south toward 10th Street. I
thought I had made a mistake as to my location and became alarmed upon reaching
what I thought was the corner of 10th Street and Ave N. My folks lived in a
duplex on the east side of a two-story house that stood on the northeast corner.
The two-story house was not there. I stood there for a minute trying to decide
where I was.
When I decided that I was in the right location, I rounded the corner hollering,
“Mother, Mother.” As I turned the corner screaming, my mother and father heard
me and answered. The tornado had lifted the entire roof of their house from the
frame and it was never found. When it was over they had found shelter in
someone’s undamaged car that was parked across the street. Neither Mother nor
Dad had been hurt.
There is much more that could be told about that night and the days that
followed. My sister, Shirley Crisp, was living in San Francisco at that time and
heard on their ten o’clock news that a tornado had hit Lubbock and everything
north of the Great Plains Life Building had been destroyed. Most of the
communications were destroyed and it was the next day before she was able to
find out if we were alright.
J. B. Knight rebuilt the Pancake House on the same location and reopened about
three months later in August. He invited everyone that was in the building that
night to the opening. When the City bought his land for the Civic Center, he
moved the Pancake House across the street to its present location on the
northwest corner of 6th and Ave Q.
Mrs. Bryan, who lived in the two-story house, had hidden between the
refrigerator and stove. When the storm was over, she crawled out of the debris.
Her doctor was passing by picked her up and drove her to the hospital that was
downtown.
There were many deaths and millions of dollars in damages, but there were also
many miracles that night. Lubbock was changed forever- along with the lives of
thousands of its citizens.
Jack Britton Kyle
Listener adds a correction:
I just tuned in, and didn't hear the Jack Britton Kyle memory piece that you
apparently had read on air, but just read it on your site. It was really well
done. Just had to note that the Pancake House belonged to J. B. Hance, not J. B.
Knight. He was a really fine Lubbock citizen, and a friend.
S
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