Twister-Be-Gone

As an executive for a multi-national automobile manufacturer I knew that my family and I could be subject to relocation and travel at the direction of my company. Though we had resided peacefully in California for most of the last decade it came as no great surprise when an order came down and I was transferred to a new facility near Oklahoma City. As anyone who has been suddenly transferred from one part of the globe to another could tell you, it is times like these that you really find out some of the secret fears and idiosyncrasies of your mate and your children.

My wife greeted the news of the transfer with loathing. "Oklahoma?" She inquired with distaste. "There are tornadoes in Oklahoma!"

It became my task then to convince her that tornadoes posed no real risk. I made comparisons to lightning, shark attacks, bear attacks, spontaneous combustion, meteors, and every other unlikely and infrequent hazard I could think of. To no avail.

My wife had watched the Wizard of Oz. She knew about tornadoes, and she didn’t want anything to do with them. This insistent fear was greatly aggravated by constant media coverage of destroyed neighborhoods, trapped children, and other carnage, almost every day on television. I could not recall there ever being so many tornado "attacks" in such a short period of time. It was as if the forces of nature were revving their engines as a threat to us personally.

I did the only thing I could think of -- begin the process for building a tornado resistant house. I contacted an architect in Oklahoma and had plans put together for a sturdy but attractive design; lots of brick, 2x6 construction, storm windows and doors. "After all," I explained to my wife, "how many big, brick houses do you see shredded up? It’s usually mobile homes or some of these throw-together tract homes, right?" She very reluctantly agreed to go along with the idea after I showed her the strength and safety features I had required for our new home. Still, she was nervous.

Then, on August 4, 1993 as a final act of Nature-Terrorism, a large twister blew through the nice, upscale neighborhood where our half-completed house was being built and completely destroyed it and several other large, well-built homes. That was the final straw for my wife, and I couldn’t really blame her. I didn’t know what to do.

It was right about that time when we heard about a custom-home design firm from Colorado who took on the challenge of "tornado alley" with a patented structural system virtually guaranteed to withstand tornadoes, hurricanes, wild fires, and just about any other natural or man-made disaster one could have nightmares about. In a fit of desperation, I contacted the Durango company, called Formworks and ordered all of the information they had on their "Formworks" homes.

When we received the packet of information from Formworks we were shocked at the photos: Vaulted ceilings, large, luxurious rooms, and super-abundant natural lighting appeared to be the hallmark of the Formworks homes. It was difficult to believe that the homes pictured were constructed of steel-reinforced concrete, and often covered with tons of earth. We could both picture our guests seated in a formal dining room with walls arching up to a partial loft, high above, while a tornado battered with futility outside. We were hooked.

As soon as we could we hired Formworks to convert our old house design into a "Formworks" format home. The architectural plans arrived and we made suggestions and changes; moving a room, adding a window, changing the connection to the attached garage. A few weeks after we sent the plans back to Colorado we were ready, once again, to build.

This time I flew to Oklahoma and had a hand in supervising construction.

The foundation was poured to the unique specifications required by Formworks with steel sockets placed in the concrete at various points for the steel frame of the house. The Oklahoma contractors merely followed the plans provided by Formworks in a step-by-step assembly process.

As anyone who has built any sort of home could tell you, walking around a half-completed structure is not the best way to muster enthusiasm over your decor. The inside of our half-completed Formworks house was awe-inspiring, but hardly beautiful. The gracefully arching walls terminated high above at the rounded portal of a sky-light/cupola and the hard concrete foundation was littered with dust and debris.

As I stood there in the center of the empty shell I began to notice the incredible silence: the sound of aircraft and cars and wind were all shut out by the incredible mass of the structure and the thick blanket of earth. Through the numerous windows we had opted for, I could see the trees stirring in the wind outside but not a hint of the sound or movement could be detected.

Very suddenly I was aware of the enormous difference between the Formworks structure and every other house I had ever been in: A sense of the solidity and strength of the structure was brought forcefully to mind, and the pictures I had seen of other people’s Formworks homes with cement trucks or bulldozers parked on top played back in my imagination. The solidity and mass of the Formworks home made other more conventional structures seem temporary or disposable by comparison.

Within a matter of weeks the beauty aspect of the home became apparent. Contractors finished framing and sheet rocking the internal walls and a coat of paint restored our faith in our initial decision. The arching walls and high ceiling worked together in forming a graceful open feeling and allowed the natural light from the windows and cupola to spread through the house in a pleasing way. We found that our Formworks home was noticeably brighter and lighter inside than any of our previous homes and the remarkable insulation from outside sounds and temperatures served to add a peaceful quality that is difficult to explain. Our utility bills now reflect that stability of temperature in a very real and substantial way.

My wife and I walked through the finished product and were pleased. Inviting guests to dine would be a pleasure. Not only would we be able to sneer at the worst weather Oklahoma had for us, we would do so from the comfort and luxury of a truly unique and distinctive abode.

Our first months living in Oklahoma after we completed the home were relatively peaceful, getting to know a new city and our neighbors who, of course, were curious about the family living in the house covered with grass and shrubs but our confidence in our Formworks home was put to the test in the summer when the tornado-warnings started.

My wife and I both felt assured in the solidity and strength of our home after having lived in and around its reassuring bulk for some months now, but we were somewhat surprised when a fair collection of our neighbors "dropped by" when the black, threatening clouds began stirring above. We soon learned that even our neighbors believed that our house was the safest place in the area and we have become semi-official hosts to the neighborhood when the weather turns ugly.

In retrospect we have the bad weather and our fear of twisters to thank for a lot of things:

We are now prized by our neighbors, flattered by visiting executives who are charmed by our home, and protected from the elements. Simply by choosing to build a Formworks home we have been introduced to a variety of benefits that we would never have known otherwise living in a normal, conventional, disposable house.

Now there really is no place like home, Toto!