I've been as close to the tail of a cone as that trailer over there. The ions, the bouncing, it is so random, so destructive—really, really, really windy. It just shows up: pop, boom, here it is. It gets really dark fast. The temperature drops. An arc zip-pops, zip-pops. The flash-bang is instantaneous—no time to count between the two. The ions burning, wind whipping. It lasts for three minutes and its gone—here I am I'm gonna fuck with you and I'm gone.

The first goddamned tornado I was ever in was outside of Fort Benning Georgia. We were in this culvert on the firing lane. One day these goddamned sirens are going of and we're actively shooting and the next thing I know these drill instructors are dragging us out of there into this steel quansit hut—"ground all your metal, put your rifles down, we're going to run out into the woods." This is back when we still had steel helmets. The wind is roaring so loud and they have us in this shallow depression and these drills are yelling, "Stay down, stay down."

Martinez—this one Drill—lashes himself to a tree with his belt—we're in this drawl and the rain is just washing down. And this one kid says, "Everybody just hold hands and pray! I said, "Get the fuck out of here—you got a death wish—you're a lightning road—get the fuck away from me.

It lasted for a few minutes. We went back to the firing line and continued.

I'm a western boy and my first tornado is in Georgia. You haven't missed a damn thing. I wouldn't wish them on anybody—how many Indians and horses and buffalo got whipped up into the sky back in the day?

The last one just missed my house and I hope I'll never see another.

-Shayne