The other night, something work me up around 0130. I was half awake when there was a huge flash of light that lit the inside of my trailer and a loud “BOOM” that shook the dust from the rafters. That woke me up. Running to a bunker crossed my mind, but my floor was cold and my flip flops were on the other side of the room. So, I just pulled my mortar resistant comforter over my head and went back to sleep. A few hours later, I got up and went for a run long before the sun came up (it was already 95 degrees outside). Things didn’t look right. A tent was knocked down and half of it was hanging over a wall. A tree was knocked down. My first thought was “wow good shootin’ Hajji”. When I passed the 10th down tree, I figured that we had a pretty big storm. The funny thing was it was a dusty as ever.
When I got to work, I found out that we had 75 knot gusts during a freak windstorm. It did a fair amount of damage—but not a single port-a-potty blew over.
When I got to work, I found out that we had 75 knot gusts during a freak windstorm. It did a fair amount of damage—but not a single port-a-potty blew over.
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