When the sand began kicking up and hitting our faces, I started to worry that maybe we had made a mistake. That afternoon, my dad had stood on the deck   of our home and laughed as our neighbors packed up their cars and headed inland. They left to spend the night in motels or at friends' homes that were out of range of approaching summer storm. Challenging the weather that threatened to damping our spirits, we lit a fire on the beach. Dad told jokes and we had a good time. When it was 6:30 p.m., all laughter disappeared. Our eyes were drawn to the sky. A tornado   was headed straight for us! In a flash, we were all on our feet. The wind started screaming and now we were running to the cottage. My mom stopped next to the front door. "Where can we go?" She shouted at my dad. Most cottages on this part of Lake Michigan had been built without basements. Ours was no exception. The huge windows and the cottage itself wouldn't offer safety from high wind. "Follow me!" my dad yelled. We crawled   beneath the deck, pressing ourselves against the foundation of the cottage. Between the deck supports, we watched the approaching storm in silent terror. My dad shouted, "Hold on!" and something else I couldn't hear over the screaming wind. I think he was praying. By the time it reached our cottage, it was nothing more than a strong wind. The rest of the storm lasted for an hour and then simply blew away. "Next time, we'll stay inland at Grandma's. Okay?" my dad said. What did the family do before the storm came?
The They stayed on the beach. They packed up the cars. They visited their neighbors.