Reflections on the Tornadic Significance of April 20th

We all have those special places that mean the most to us on this planet. These are the locales whose features are etched so deeply into our souls that even after years of absence, the familiarity never fades. On April 20th, 2004 my special place was hit by an F-3 tornado. An astonishing 18 tornadoes swept across Illinois that day, part of an unexpected outbreak that produced 31 twisters in total.

I was a junior in high school, and I spent the afternoon and evening glued to the TV in my basement- where my desk was- as I earnestly messaged friends via AIM. It's worth a tangent to think about how much social media has influenced the multitude of hobbies associated with meteorology- like storm chasing. I watched the overwhelmed CLTV forecaster struggle to keep up with the increasing number of severe weather watches and warnings as they approached the Chicagoland area. When LaSalle County went under the gun- with a tornadic supercell headed straight towards the town of Utica- I knew things would never be the same. It was the first time I had followed a somewhat local severe weather event from inception to completion.

Utica, Illinois is home to Starved Rock State Park, a place my family had migrated to on an annual basis since the early 1980s. I learned to swim in the pool at Starved Rock Lodge, a beautiful 1930s stone and beam building that has only improved with age. We'd clean up trash on the hiking trails and take in the sights. I honed my fledgling bird watching skills in the canyons and along the Illinois River, where white pelicans and bald eagles can be found almost year round. I can still feel the rough stones of the lodge's great room under my feet. I've daydreamed about getting married at the lodge ever since I was a kid- if it's in the cards. Starved Rock is that important to me. 

April 20, 2004 Utica tornado radar stills courtesy of NWS Chicago

As the severe weather situation began to unfold, I warned my parents that we wouldn't recognize Utica on our next trip south. They were skeptical- until we went down to Starved Rock six months later to discover a small town that had been completely bisected by the twister. Eight people had lost their lives, and the worst part was that they had done exactly what they were supposed to do during a tornado warning- sheltering in the basement of a tavern. The lead time between the National Weather Service tornado warning and the arrival of the tornado itself had been decent, too- over half an hour. As we drove through town we saw trees that had been debarked and whole blocks that had been demolished. It was my first time directly observing the impact of a tornado.

Early on the evening of the 20th I remember making an estimate that the storms would arrive in my area around 8pm. At 8:01p.m. the first tornado warning was issued for southern Cook County- I even copied the warning text into my journal. My family and I watched the late night news, heartbroken, as rescue personnel converged on the town we knew so well. We were awed and saddened for the residents of Utica.

April 20th is culturally significant to the United States in so many poignant ways, and I figured it was a good time to reflect upon how this day impacts my storm chasing persona. There have been many other tornadic tragedies- Joplin, Moore, and beyond- but this is the one that hit close to my heart. It's something that crosses every storm chaser's mind at some point- a reminder that the exhilaration of observing a storm can be directly related to destruction and devastation. Here's hoping that any storms I encounter in 22 DAYS are beautiful and harmless.