When I was about five, my big brother (about age 15) and I were in the living room watching TV. It suddenly became pitch black, I couldn’t see a thing. After a brief wait, someone grabbed me (it was still pitch black) and took me out of the room. (I later found out it was my brother who had grabbed me; he had initially forgotten all about me and hauled a**, and he had come back and got me only after my mother had ordered him to. )
Then we were all on the floor in the hallway, and I could see a little bit because there was a little light from some unknown source (an outside light, a flashlight, I don’t remember). My mother was praying. Earlier she had told my brother to raise the windows, which he had done, all but one. As the tornado passed, I heard the closed window shatter.
Except for the window, the tornado missed us, but tore hell out of a lot of other places around town. I don’t remember if anyone in town died or was badly injured. This was in Central Louisiana.
About 35 years later, during my lengthy Ageing Student Era, I was in my apartment in an old neighborhood near the State Capitol, studying or pretending to, when the windows began to rattle violently and I heard a loud, low, continuous sound–not quite a roar, but plenty loud–coming from outside. I knew it was some kind of strong wind, but whatever kind it was, it came and went quickly. Then I heard laughter, so I went outside. I saw four, five, maybe six young people, about university age, laughing and dancing around in the street. I asked, “What was that?” Because they didn’t seem alarmed, I thought maybe I had imagined the thing, or at least mentally exaggerated it. But one of them said, “A tornado!” I asked, “Were you out here when it came through?” They said, “Yeah!” and laughed and danced some more (maybe they were going through a free-spirited phase, or something).
There was some stuff strewn around, but I didn’t notice any real damage. Maybe it was a mini-tornado, if that’s possible.