"Natural Disasters"

Although there is much speculation about how 'natural' our disasters are, how much the actions of mankind contribute to creating them, any idiot can see that we are going to face more and more. My thinking today is that if we (collectively and individually) are dumb enough not to do everything in our power to make life on earth sustainable, and even if we are smart enough to do our best, we will still get tested in our reactions to crisis.

When we lived in Battle Ground, Indiana, a bit of a nightmare in itself for a native New Englander, there were legends afoot that the reason the great Indian tribes had chosen the area for their huge gatherrings was that tornadoes never touched down there. There seemed to be some wisdom in that as there had been no recorded ones since the white men had come and killed the Indians.

There was a good reason for the name 'Battle Ground':

History of the

Battle of Tippecanoe

Native American Settlement

Early man and many Indian tribes roamed this part of the Wabash Valley before the thriving trading post of Keth-tip-pe-can-nunk was established in the eighteenth century. Known to many as "Tippecanoe", the village thrived until 1791, when it was razed in an attempt to scatter the Indians and open the land to the new white settlers.

Seventeen years later a new Indian village was established on or near the old Keth-tip-pe-can-nunk site at the Wabash/Tippecanoe River junction. Known as "Prophet's Town", this village was destined to become the capitol of a great Indian confederacy -- their equivalent to Washington, D.C.

The town was founded in May, 1808, when two Shawnee brothers, Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa (the Prophet), left their native Ohio after being permitted to settle on these Potawatomi and Kickapoo-held lands.

The Protagonists

Tecumseh and the Prophet planned to unite many tribes into an organized defense against the growing number of western settlers. Through this union they could defend the lands they had lived on for thousands of years.

In addition to being a seat of diplomacy, Prophet's Town became a training center for the warriors, with a rigorous spiritual and athletic regimen. As many as one thousand warriors were based in the capitol at its peak.

The white settlers of the Indiana territory were disturbed by the increasing activities and power of Tecumseh's followers.  In the late summer of 1811, the governor of the territory, Gen. William Henry Harrison, organized a small army of 1,000 men, hoping to destroy the town while Tecumseh was on a southern recruitment drive. The regiment arrived on Nov. 6, 1811, and upon meeting with representatives of the Prophet, it was mutually agreed that there would be no hostilities until a meeting could be held on the following day. Harrison's scouts then guided the troops to a suitable campsite on a wooded hill about a mile west of Prophet's Town.

The Battle

Upon arriving at the site, Harrison warned his men of the possible treachery of the Prophet. The troops were placed in a quadrangular formation; each man was to sleep fully clothed. Fires were lit to combat the cold, rainy night, and a large detail was assigned to sentinel the outposts.

Although Tecumseh had warned his brother not to attack the white men until the confederation was strong and completely unified, the incensed Prophet lashed his men with fiery oratory. Claiming the white man's bullets could not harm them, the Prophet led his men near the army campsite. From a high rock ledge west of the camp, he gave an order to attack just before daybreak on the following day.

The sentinels were ready, and the first gunshot was fired when the yells of the warriors were heard. Many of the men awoke to find the Indians upon them. Although only a handful of the soldiers had had previous battle experience, the army bloodily fought off the reckless, determined Indian attack. Two hours later, thirty-seven soldiers were dead, twenty-five others were to die of injuries, and over 126 were wounded. The Indian casualties were unknown, but their spirit was crushed. Angered by his deceit, the weary warriors stripped the Prophet of his power and threatened to kill him.

Harrison, expecting Tecumseh to return with a large band of Indians, fortified his camp soon after the battle. No man was permitted to sleep the following night.

Taking care of their dead and wounded, the demoralized Indians left Prophet's Town, abandoning most of their food and belongings. When Harrison's men arrived at the village on November 8, they found only an eldery Indian woman, whom they left with a wounded chief found not far from the battlefield. After burning the town, the army began their painful return to Vincennes.

The Aftermath

Tecumseh returned three months later to find his dream in ashes. Believing the reconstruction of the confederation to be too risky and the chance of Indian survival under the United States government to be dim, he gathered his remaining followers and allied himself with the British forces. Tecumseh played a key role in the War of 1812, being active in the fall of Detroit, but he was killed at the Battle of the Thames on October 5, 1813, at the age of forty-five.

Scorned by the Indians and renounced by Tecumseh, the Prophet took refuge along nearby Wildcat Creek. Although remaining in disgrace, the Prophet retained a small band of followers, who roamed with him through the Northwest and Canada during the War of 1812. He died in Wyandotte County, Kansas, in November, 1834.

That is the white man's version of what happened. Probably a bit watered down. It is amazing to me that places where great amounts of blood have been spilled all over the planet  haven't had altered weather. I can't believe that the only factors in weather anywhere are physical ones. 

I have been several places in my life where the earth felt sad. One was in Greenfield, NH in the field of a beautiful farm. I spoke of this to a friend and he told me that there had been a horiffic Indian massacre there. 

When we lived in Battle Ground, Indiana in our huge rented house with the tower, and we saw a tornado coming, I took the kids into the far corner of the cellar and we huddled together. My then husband went to the top of the tower to watch the excitement. The tornadoes jumped over our little town, just as the Native People had known they would.

I have read that some people in Tornado Alley run out in the open to catch the excitement of watching tornadoes. I had the excitement at a very young age, living through the Worcester tornado at age 9.

The 1953 Worcester Tornado was an extremely strong tornado that struck the city and surrounding area of Worcester, Massachusetts on June 9, 1953. It was part of the Flint–Worcester tornado outbreak sequence, which occurred over a three-day period from June 6—9, 1953. The storm stayed on the ground for nearly 90 minutes, traveling 48 miles across Central Massachusetts. In total, 94 people were killed, making it the 21st deadliest tornado in the history of the United States.^[2] In addition to the fatalities, over 1,000 people were injured and 4,000 buildings were damaged. The tornado caused $52 million in damage, which translates to $349 million today when adjusted for currency inflation. After the Fujita scale was developed in 1971, the storm was classified as "F4", the second highest rating on the scale.
At approximately 4:25 pm (EST), the tornado touched down in a forest near the town of Petersham, and proceeded to move through Barre, where two people were killed.^[3] It then moved through the western suburbs of Worcester, where 11 more people were killed. The storm then passed through Worcester, where it destroyed Assumption College and several other buildings, killing 60. After striking Worcester, it killed 21 more people in the towns of Shrewsbury, Southborough, and Westborough, before dissipating over Framingham. According to National Weather Service estimates, over 10,000 people were left homeless as a result of the tornado.

These experiences leave a big impression. My biggest impression was of my mother's relief as we found out that our whole family was safe. She was the only one home at the time. We kids and my Dad were all at friends houses, Dad at work. My other big impression was of the hail and then the air being sucked out to cause a stillness in which we could hardly breathe.

One of my hopes is that the various physical and psychological hardships we have endured in our lives will act like fire tempering steel and that when the call comes we can be strong and help others. Isn't this the goal after all? Oh, ya, and world peace and enough food for everyone.