On our way up I-65 through Alabama last week, we stopped in the small town of Cullman.   The tornado that devastated Tuskaloosa, skipped across the state, also touching down in Cullman.   I talked to one of the eye witnesses, a woman who lives on the western outskirts of town.   She said she heard the tornado sirens and dashed to her front window just in time to see the tornado touch down in a field just across the street.   “I knew I should have immediately gotten away from the glass.” she said.   “But I was transfixed with the sight.   Luckily the tornado didn’t turn left toward us.”   The tornado continued west, hopped over the small downtown, and then plowed a path down the eastern half of 3rd St. here.   The destruction was absolutely phenomenal.   Huge trees were completely uprooted, there was nothing left of homes, cars were dashed about as if they were miniature Hot Wheels…   It was dark and we pulled up at one intersection that was all rubble, except for a lone wall of one house that was still standing.   Rummaging about a bit, our young son Jonathan found  two items that  seemed to be the only things  that were  intact in all the debri.   A Bible and a small Composition Book with the name “Maddie” on the cover.   I leafed through the book, noting Maddie seemed to be a first or second grader who made daily entries, and drawings, in the book.   There were entries about playing with friends, going to a birthday party, learning about pumpkins at school, and… a page in the middle stopped me.   Maddie had drawn a picture of a tornado.   Her entry on that page read:   “I’m looking forward to going on the field trip tomorrow.   We are going to do a lot of experiments.   Of course I already know how to do one experiment.   I know how to make a tornado.”   As I looked again at the drawing, then looked up at all the devastation, there was this, I don’t know, this erie feeling.   Note:   We learned two people had been killed here.   I was hoping one of them wasn’t Maddie.