Well, a huge old dead oak tree came crashing down in the woods in back of my house during one of Birmingham’s typical F-5 tornadoes. The sound of an old man jingling change in his pocket during church sends my wife into spasms of homicidal rage, yet she’ll sleep right through a funnel cloud churning through the yard. Here’s a question I’ve always wondered about: What did tornadoes sound like before there were locomotives?

Last week, another tornado nearly pulverized the Georgia Dome during
the SEC basketball tournament. Birmingham has desperately wanted to
host such a tournament, but without a dome it can’t compete with
Atlanta. Oh well, there’s still plenty of time left this spring for us
to aim a tornado east down I-20 towards Atlanta and produce a leveled
playing field. My wife will sleep through that too.

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