Memories From The Tornado of '36: A Homecoming

We had an interesting event in Gainesville the other nite. It was called "The Tornado of '36: A Homecoming" and more than 200 people turned out in lousy, rainy weather to participate and see what it was all about. The program was one of a series being sponsored by the new Northeast Georgia History Center at Brenau University, and these programs ... while the History Center's new building is under construction ... have been held in the Chapel at the First Baptist Church.

The program started with a silent, black-and-white film of the devastation in downtown Gainesville on the day following the Tornado of '36. The old film had been commissioned by insurance companies, and compared with some of the destruction we are seeing on television from the war in Iraq, it was similar and dramatic. Parts of Gainesville were literally obliterated on April 6, 1936. And yet, some areas of town, sometimes no more than a few feet from an area in shambles, were untouched. I'll admit it was more emotional than I had expected, both from the nostalgic moments and the humorous. B. J. Williams moderated a panel of people who survived the tornado and it brought on a yo-yo of up and down emotions. Pierce Hancock talking about the death of his brother when a brick wall fell on the convertible he was riding in. Grace Moore about the agony her father faced as he walked through rubble downtown on his way to Brenau to see if she had survived. Memories of the stores on the square from Charlie Frierson and Mr. Newman. Of Gainesville High from Bonnie Valentine. And the funny moments, like a memory from Clifford Martin of the student who lifted his head out of the rubble at Gainesville High and, spotting the principal, C. J. Cheeves, said: "Mr. Cheeves, do you reckon we'll have our exams today?"

The program was the beginning of an oral history project being carried forward by Bill Miller and other survivors through the History Center. If you want to be a part of it, give them a call.

This is Gordon Sawyer, from a window on historic Green Street.