The Tornado That Changed America

Eleven-year-old Adrian Dillon had heard stories about terrifying monsters near his hometown of Parrish, Illinois. One was the Ozark Howler, a bearlike creature with razor-sharp teeth. 

But Adrian was about to come face-to-face with a real monster—one far scarier than any from a story. He was about to face the Tri-State Tornado, one of the worst twisters ever to strike the United States. 

The Tri-State Tornado roared out of the sky on March 18, 1925. In roughly three hours, it ripped through Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana. It killed nearly 700 people. 

Entire towns were sucked into the sky. 

Parrish was one of those towns. 

Eleven-year-old Adrian Dillon had heard stories about frightening monsters near his hometown of Parrish, Illinois. One was the Ozark Howler, a creature like a bear with razor-sharp teeth.  

But Adrian was about to meet a real monster—one far scarier than any from a story. He was about to face the Tri-State Tornado. That’s one of the worst twisters ever to strike the United States. 

The Tri-State Tornado roared out of the sky on March 18, 1925. In roughly three hours, it ripped through Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana. It killed nearly 700 people. 

Entire towns were sucked into the sky. 

Parrish was one of those towns.

Not much ever happened in Parrish. It was just a tiny speck of a town, nestled within the grassy hills of southern Illinois. But on the morning of March 18, Adrian woke up with a jolt of excitement.

Today was the day of the town’s big marbles tournament.

At the time, marbles was one of the most popular games in America. Adrian and his friends played every day at recess. They would try to knock one another’s marbles out of a ring they had drawn in the dirt. 

Adrian was one of the best players at Parrish School. If he did well in the tournament, he’d be the town’s marbles champion. His photo would be in the newspaper. He’d be famous!

He lay under his quilt, smiling. But suddenly, the sound of his father’s voice snapped him out of his happy spell. Even a marbles champ had to do his morning chores. 

The Dillon family lived on one of the many small farms that surrounded Parrish. There was always work to be done. 

That morning, Adrian and his 13-year-old brother, Leonard, milked the cows. Ten-year-old Ruie helped prepare oatmeal and bacon for breakfast. Little Wendell and Faye pitched in by feeding the family’s pet rabbits.

At 8 a.m., Adrian, Leonard, and Ruie left for school. Adrian waved to his mom and little brother and sister.

He’d never see his house again.

Not much ever happened in Parrish. It was just a tiny town in the grassy hills of southern Illinois. But on the morning of March 18, Adrian woke up full of excitement.

Today was the day of the town’s big marbles tournament.

At the time, marbles was one of the most popular games in America. Adrian and his friends played every day at recess. They would draw a ring in the dirt. Then they would try to knock one another’s marbles out of it. 

Adrian was one of the best players at Parrish School. If he did well in the tournament, he’d be the town’s marbles champion. His photo would be in the newspaper. He’d be famous!

He lay under his quilt, smiling. But suddenly, his father’s voice snapped him out of his happy spell. Even a marbles champ had to do his morning chores. 

The Dillon family lived on one of the many small farms that surrounded Parrish. There was always work to be done. 

That morning, Adrian and his 13-year-old brother, Leonard, milked the cows. Ten-year-old Ruie helped prepare oatmeal and bacon for breakfast. Little Wendell and Faye helped out by feeding the family’s pet rabbits.

At 8 a.m., Adrian, Leonard, and Ruie left for school. Adrian waved to his mom and little brother and sister.

He’d never see his house again.

The Dillon kids walked to school under a bright-blue sky. The day was warmer and more humid than usual. Wildflowers were starting to peek their bright heads up through the tall grass. Ruie’s braids danced around her shoulders in the breeze. All seemed peaceful. 

Meanwhile, more than 100 miles away, a monstrous storm was brewing. It was moving at 70 miles per hour, as fast as a speeding train. And it was headed toward Illinois. 

Those summery breezes that had followed the Dillon kids to school would make the storm more dangerous. Warm, moist air adds power to thunderstorms. It makes tornadoes more likely. 

But the people of Parrish did not know that a tornado might be coming. The weather report that morning had said only that rain was possible. In 1925, the science of weather, called meteorology, was still new. There were no high-tech tools to track storms. Weather forecasts were more guesses than scientific predictions. 

And so, on March 18, thousands of people in the storm’s path went about their day. 

Adrian, Leonard, and Ruie settled in at Parrish School. Like most country schools in the 1920s, Parrish was a one-room schoolhouse. 

One teacher was in charge of about 40 kids ages 6 to 14. The youngest children practiced their letters. Older students worked on grammar and math. At recess, Adrian practiced his marbles shots.

No one had any idea that disaster was about to strike.

The Dillon kids walked to school under a blue sky. The day was warmer and more humid than usual. Wildflowers were starting to grow in the tall grass. Ruie’s braids danced around her shoulders in the breeze. All seemed peaceful. 

But more than 100 miles away, a huge storm was forming. It was moving at 70 miles per hour. That’s as fast as a speeding train. And it was headed toward Illinois. 

Those summery breezes would make the storm more dangerous. Warm, moist air adds power to thunderstorms. It makes tornadoes more likely. 

But the people of Parrish didn’t know that a tornado might be coming. The weather report that morning had said only that rain was possible. In 1925, the science of weather was still new. There were no high-tech tools to track storms. Weather reports were mostly guesses. 

And so, on March 18, thousands of people in the storm’s path went about their day. 

Adrian, Leonard, and Ruie sat at their desks at Parrish School. Like most country schools in the 1920s, Parrish was a one-room schoolhouse. 

One teacher was in charge of about 40 kids ages 6 to 14. The youngest children practiced their letters. Older students worked on grammar and math. At recess, Adrian practiced his marbles shots.

No one had any idea that disaster was about to strike.

The Tri-State Tornado was born at about 1 p.m. in a Missouri forest 150 miles west of Parrish. It was just a ropy little funnel when it dropped from the sky. But it was powerful enough to chew apart trees and scatter branches. 

The tornado sped northeast. At about 1:15 p.m., it reached the small town of Annapolis, Missouri.

Whoosh!

In less than 60 seconds, the tornado destroyed all but 7 of the town’s 85 homes. Annapolis School, a small stone building, was smashed to rubble with all 32 students inside. Shops and restaurants were swept away. 

Incredibly, the tornado took the lives of only four people in Annapolis. All 32 schoolchildren climbed from the wreckage alive. 

The Tri-State Tornado was born at about 1 p.m. It started in a Missouri forest 150 miles west of Parrish. It was little when it dropped from the sky. But it was powerful enough to chew apart trees and scatter branches. 

The tornado sped northeast. At about 1:15 p.m., it reached the small town of Annapolis, Missouri.

Whoosh!

In less than 60 seconds, the tornado destroyed all but 7 of the town’s 85 homes. Annapolis School was smashed to rubble with all 32 students inside. Shops and restaurants were swept away. 

Incredibly, the tornado took the lives of only four people in Annapolis. All 32 schoolchildren climbed from the wreckage alive. 

More than an hour after the tornado formed, it was still on the ground. This was highly unusual. Of the more than 1,200 tornadoes that strike the U.S. every year, most blow over a few trees and mailboxes and then quickly fall apart. A typical tornado stays on the ground for about 10 minutes before losing strength. 

What made the Tri-State Tornado so unique and horrifying was that it did not lose strength. Like a hungry beast, it grew larger and stronger as it devoured everything in its path.

Back in Parrish, Adrian kept his eyes glued on the clock. School let out at 3:15 p.m., but he and four other boys were being dismissed early for the marbles tournament.

Meanwhile, the tornado crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois. The twister was now nearly a mile wide. Its swirling winds carried tons of wreckage. 

There were shards of glass, slabs of wood, and mud sucked up from the ground. There were thousands of objects ripped from homes, like pots and beds and quilts and toys. It all spun inside the tornado at 300 miles per hour.

The twister kept plowing through towns and cities. It killed hundreds of people and left behind a trail of ruin more than 100 miles long.

And it was about to take aim at Parrish.

More than an hour after the tornado formed, it was still on the ground. This was very unusual. More than 1,200 tornadoes strike the U.S. every year. Most blow over a few trees and mailboxes and then quickly fall apart. A typical tornado stays on the ground for about 10 minutes before losing strength. 

The Tri-State Tornado was different and scary because it did not lose strength. Like a hungry beast, it grew larger and stronger as it devoured everything in its path.

Back in Parrish, Adrian watched the clock. School let out at 3:15 p.m. But he and four other boys were getting out early for the marbles tournament.

Meanwhile, the tornado crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois. The twister was now nearly a mile wide. Its swirling winds carried tons of wreckage. 

There were shards of glass, pieces of wood, and mud sucked up from the ground. There were thousands of objects ripped from homes, like pots and beds and quilts and toys. It all spun inside the tornado at 300 miles per hour.

The twister kept plowing through towns and cities. It killed hundreds of people. It left behind a trail of ruin more than 100 miles long.

And it was about to hit Parrish.

Just after 3 p.m., Adrian and four other boys arrived at the marbles tournament. By then, the skies had turned purplish black, like a huge bruise. Thunder growled in the distance. The boys groaned. Would the marbles tournament be canceled?

Then Adrian saw it: a roiling black cloud racing toward them. His blood turned to ice as he realized what he was looking at. 

At first the boys thought to take shelter in a small store. But Adrian shook his head. “We have to get back to school!” he shouted. The school building was sturdier.

The boys sprinted back toward the school. Rain started to fall. The day turned to night. They made it inside just as the tornado hit.

Crash!

Every window shattered. The school shuddered. Dirt and wood flew through the air. 

And then everything went still.

The tornado had passed. 

On shaking legs, Adrian and the other students made their way outside. Adrian stared in shock: All he could see in any direction was wreckage. Not one building stood except the school and the church. The scene looked more like a bombed-out battlefield than a peaceful small town.

Clutching each other’s hands, the Dillon kids headed home. The path was filled with debris—wagon wheels, smashed furniture, torn fabric. They passed the spot where Adrian had stood moments before the tornado hit. The store where he and the other boys had almost taken shelter was gone.

But even that could not prepare the Dillon kids for what they found when they got home: nothing. The house was gone. So was the barn. 

They called for their parents, for little Wendell and Faye. But there was only silence. Adrian fought back tears as one terrible thought clutched at his mind: Everyone must be dead.

Just after 3 p.m., Adrian and four other boys arrived at the marbles tournament. By then, the skies had turned a purple and black color, like a huge bruise. Thunder growled in the distance. The boys groaned. Would the marbles tournament be canceled?

Then Adrian saw it: a roiling black cloud racing toward them. His blood turned to ice as he realized what he was looking at. 

At first the boys thought to keep safe in a small store. But Adrian shook his head. “We have to get back to school!” he shouted. The school building was stronger.

The boys ran back toward the school. Rain started to fall. The day turned to night. They made it inside just as the tornado hit.

Crash!

Every window shattered. The school shuddered. Dirt and wood flew through the air. 

And then everything went still.

The tornado had passed. 

On shaking legs, Adrian and the other students made their way outside. Adrian stared in shock: All he could see in any direction was wreckage. Not one building stood except the school and the church. 

Holding each other’s hands, the Dillon kids headed home. The path was filled with debris—wagon wheels, smashed furniture, torn fabric. They passed the spot where Adrian had stood moments before the tornado hit. The store that he and the other boys had almost entered was gone.

Still, the Dillon kids weren’t prepared for what they found when they got home: nothing. The house was gone. So was the barn. 

They called for their parents and for little Wendell and Faye. But there was only silence. Adrian fought back tears as he had one terrible thought: Everyone must be dead.