JOPLIN – Even as Missouri works to recover from recent tornadoes and damaging winds, for many, every severe weather warning and dark cloud brings to mind the deadly tornado that hit Joplin on May 22, 2011. A new documentary from Netflix, “The Twister: Caught in the Storm,” tells the story of that Sunday evening as people gathered for Joplin High School’s graduation, ran to Target to pick up some hair dye, or just drove around to do some amateur storm chasing.
I was on a road trip that weekend, with plans to pass through Joplin that evening, but at the last minute I took a detour through Kansas City to watch the Cardinals play the Royals. The Cards won, and it was a brutally hot, humid day. On the drive home to Jefferson City, the sky began to darken over I-70. On the radio, I heard reports of a possible tornado in Joplin. The next day, The Pathway sent me to Joplin.
I’d been to many disaster areas with my camera and notepad before that. But not like this. Even a day later, the sky was still ominous as I headed toward Joplin. Pastors and other leaders who normally were eager to help me out with a quote or background weren’t returning my calls. As I pulled into town, it was dumping rain, and it became clear why I was being ignored. A huge portion of Joplin had exploded. The city was still in triage mode. The EF-5 tornado (wind speeds topping 300 mph) tore a 6-mile-wide swath through town, destroying 8,000 homes and businesses, injuring more than 900 and claiming 161 lives.
The Twister: Caught in the Storm is a first-hand retelling of that Sunday evening. My impression from the trailer was that the so-called documentary would be too melodramatic to be taken seriously, but it’s more compelling than I thought. It follows a handful of survivors, weaving their stories in with some incredible amateur footage of their experiences as they gradually become aware of the impending tornado, desperately try to figure out how to take shelter from its might and stumble around in a daze in its aftermath.
It’s not perfect, and it doesn’t earn my unqualified endorsement. It’s rated TV-MA for “mature audiences,” and there is quite a bit of foul language. The footage of the storm is very intense at times. One of the people followed throughout the documentary is gay, weaving his sexuality through his experience of the tornado. Many of these captivating stories are expertly told and worth hearing, but this is not a film for children.
Unlike those telling their stories in the documentary or the thousands directly affected by the tornado that day, I didn’t experience the immense power of that storm. Despite the best efforts of the documentary, my imagination can’t possibly do it justice. I didn’t witness the sound of a freight train barreling overhead, or the perplexing sight of trees, cars and homes flying through the air.
But the story of the Joplin tornado didn’t end once the funnel cloud evaporated and the rains ceased. As the skies cleared, I was blessed to have a front-row seat to witness stories of God’s overwhelming, redemptive presence after the storm. The documentary is purposefully focused on the storm itself, and devotes just a few scant minutes of its 90-minute runtime to recovery. What I saw first-hand about God at work after the storm is worth a dozen documentaries:
• Every single church in town that remained standing became a shelter or was passing out food and supplies.
• Men and women from Baptist churches in Missouri and beyond descended on Joplin and didn’t leave, bringing help, hope and healing in the form of chaplains, feeding crews, communication teams, and an army of chainsaws to help clear the thousands of downed trees covering every street.
• I saw one Missouri Baptist Disaster Relief volunteer and his wife pick up his hat from the splintered debris of his own home, dust it off, and prepare to serve others.
• Spring River Baptist Association partnered with the local schools to help connect families to resources.
• FBC Carthage served as a clearing house for thousands upon thousands of photos scattered across the countryside, hoping to get them back to the families where they belonged.
• The next spring break, collegiate ministries from across Missouri and the nation brought teams to serve.
• Churches where people took shelter from the storm – and sometimes died when walls collapsed and roofs disappeared – were rebuilt, all to the glory of God.
• One man I met at the shattered ruin that had been the Harmony Heights Baptist Church building was searching for the Bible he’d laid his head on while the tornado destroyed the walls and roof around him. He found it while we were chatting, a precious heirloom and a reminder of God’s faithfulness.
I may not be able to produce a documentary, but I can tell you this: despite the awesome, terrible power of the storm, God remains faithful.