Whitney Crowder doesn’t remember the day her father died.
What happened Dec. 16, 2000, has gone down in state history: Eleven people, including her father and baby brother, died when an F4 tornado hit south Tuscaloosa. It was the single deadliest tornado in the United States that year.
But Whitney’s memories of that day begin when she woke up in the hospital and saw friends and family at her bedside.
“My first-grade teacher was there,” she said. “I remember walking around the hospital and seeing my sister Abby.”
She relies on videos, photos and other people’s versions of events to fill in the gaps.
One photo, taken the day of the Dec. 16 tornado, tells her story.
The photo, taken by a Tuscaloosa News photographer and distributed by news wires around the world, depicts at once the devastation of the storm and the heartbreak of loss. It shows a man carrying the unconscious body of then-6-year-old Whitney through the wreckage of her home in what was once Bear Creek Trailer Park.
Whitney doesn’t remember that part, nor does Abby, who was 3 at the time. For them, Dec. 16, 2000, was the day they woke up in the intensive care unit of Children’s Hospital in Birmingham and learned that their father, 26-year-old Derek, and Wesley, the 16-month-old baby of the family, were dead, and that their mother, Teresa, was severely injured.
Michael Harris, the man in the photo, remembers the day of the tornado as being “a perfect Saturday.” He was at his grandmother’s house blocks from Bear Creek Trailer Park, visiting with her and his mother.
“I remember how peaceful it was,” he said. “It was just a normal day, and everything changed so quickly.”
He remembers how dramatically the temperature dropped, from the 80s during the day, to snow on the ground that made it more difficult for emergency teams searching for bodies. Wesley’s body wasn’t found until early the next morning, in temperatures that had dropped into the 20s overnight.
Harris had been watching a movie on TV when a news report broke in to say a tornado had been spotted in Tuscaloosa County and residents should take cover.
The first warning for the county was issued at 12:40 p.m. The first reports of damage came in at 1:04 p.m., from the Taylorville community just south of Tuscaloosa. Among the most severely hit areas was Bear Creek Trailer Park.
Sixteen-year-old Whitney is now a junior at Tuscaloosa County High School. Thirteen-year-old Abby is a sixth-grader at Echols Middle School. To an observer, they are typical American teenagers. Whitney is in the school band, loves Harry Potter and hopes to be a child psychologist someday. Abby likes music and is in the science club. They have a half-sister, 6-year-old Rylee, a student at Northport Elementary who loves cheerleading camp.
One thing sets them apart from most teens. When talk among their friends turns to family, Whitney and Abby tell them why their father isn’t there.
“I tell them I don’t have a dad,” Abby said. “It makes them uncomfortable sometimes. Sometimes my friends will ask me if it’s OK to talk about tornadoes, and I tell them, yeah, it’s OK.”
Now 36, Teresa understands how her daughters feel about the father taken from them at such a young age.
“How do you love someone you don’t know?” said Teresa, who recovered from her injuries.
Jim and Betty Crowder, Derek’s parents, say they tell the children stories of their father, to keep him alive for them. Even they are surprised sometimes how his traits have come out in his children, especially Abby, who looks like him.
“They smile the same way,” Betty said. “Their facial expressions are the same. Sometimes it’s like he’s talking to you _ and it makes me happy to remember. The hurt isn’t like it used to be.”
The passage of 10 years has worn the pain down to a dull heartache, “right here,” said Betty, placing a hand on her heart.
The tornado left scars, both physical and emotional. Jim Crowder said the deaths of his son and grandson nearly ended his marriage. Like almost every couple, he and his wife had the usual problems, but losing their son made them worse.
“I almost left her after the storm,” he said bluntly. “I figured I’d have to live a life of solitude because no one else would put up with me.”
In the end, the Crowders’ marriage survived and is stronger, Betty said. She and her husband make a point of spending time together, and they are affectionate with each other. During conversations, they reach for the other’s hand while they speak.
“We had to find a balance,” Betty said. “We had to pray a lot and find time to be with each other.”
Teresa said she had a difficult time making the transition from stay-at-home mother to head of a household after the twister.
“I wished I had someone to be here to help me, especially when I was a housewife and that’s what I knew,” she said. “God blessed me with a wonderful family and suddenly, I had to go back to work.
“It’s hard when your childhood isn’t that great, and then you have a real family. Derek was very definite about how to raise the children; he made most of the decisions. He was just the best thing ever, and then he was gone.”
Of the family’s three survivors, Teresa sustained the most severe injuries, including a broken back that still bothers her when the weather is bad. Also, her memory is hazy about some things.
“I wish I could remember things a lot more,” she said. “That’s hurtful, because I want to feel those things again. I want to feel what it was like to hold my son. You know how your kids hug you, and you can tell who it is with your eyes closed? That’s the hardest part, not feeling him.”
To mark the anniversary of the tornado, Teresa and the girls planned a private ceremony, one that has evolved over the past few years. They go to the cemetery, write down their thoughts about Derek and Wesley, tie the notes to balloons and release them into the sky.
It’s become a ritual for them, Teresa said. “It’s our little thing.”
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