Living in Iowa, the wail of sirens on mild spring days often mimic the tale of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf.” The circling alarm is supposed to trigger bystanders to hide within the depths of their homes, yet more often than not, they linger by their windows or step onto their decks, scanning the sky for any sign that, this time, the threat is real.
This is because, being located in the Midwest, where the geography is a perfect collision of warm and cold air and the flat terrain provides no natural barriers to supercells, the warning system is heard on a frequent basis. However, when the air is suddenly still, the sky is tinted with a green fog or the sound of a freight train can be heard in the distance, it’s no longer a false alarm. A monster may be lurking within the dark clouds, and if proper preparation is not executed, that monster is out to kill.
Last year, Iowa ranked among the top five states for the most tornadoes recorded, with an estimated 125 to 131, breaking the state’s previous annual record in 2004.
Greenfield, Iowa was also the location for a record-breaking tornado with the strongest wind speeds ever recorded on Earth. This tornado unleashed winds above 300 mph, 100 mph above what qualifies as an EF-5.
Iowa is not always the first state that comes to mind when thinking of Tornado Alley. However, the broad stretch of area in the U.S. that experiences the prime conditions to brew a tornado encompasses the state and Indianola. But to fully understand the devastation a tornado can cause, it is essential first to learn how it forms.
Tornadoes develop within a specific type of thunderstorm called a supercell. Supercells contain a continuously rotating updraft created when cool, dry air from the Rockies or Canada collides with warm, moist air from the Gulf of Mexico. This clash causes atmospheric instability and strong wind shear.
As warm, moist air rises rapidly, the wind shear can tilt the horizontal rotation vertically, forming a mesocyclone, a spinning column of air within the storm. If the updraft strengthens, the rotation tightens, and a funnel cloud forms, extending downward from the storm’s clouds. Once that funnel cloud touches the ground, a tornado is officially born.
According to the National Weather Service, about 1200 tornadoes occur each year in America, taking an average of 80 lives with them and injuring 1500 more. For most, tornado statistics are meaningless numbers plastered on the news, but tornadoes are a lived reality for a handful of Simpson College students. They’ve experienced firsthand the unpredictability and fear that comes with living in the Midwest.
Tahlur Lambert, a junior at Simpson, shared her images and experiences while chasing a storm in Kalona, Iowa, where she and a peer spotted a massive 150-yard-wide tornado. When they decided to turn around and drive the opposite way, they realized another tornado was forming on top of them.
“When I actually saw the tornado, I was in shock with how big it was, but also how fast it was moving,” Lambert said about spotting the first tornado. Then, panic set in when she realized they were directly beneath another forming tornado.
“All the sudden, it started hailing, and the wind picked up, and I was freaking out because it felt like we could’ve gotten picked up off the ground,” she said. “It was pretty scary.”
“There was a tornado across the road from us, and everyone started freaking out,” first-year Chole Weirson, who was in her driveway with her family, said. “It was crazy because none of us had ever seen a real tornado.”
The curiosity such storms bring to so many midwesterners could arguably be because of their scientific unknowns, the fact that it’s an awe-inspiring phenomenon, or the rush it gives people.
Many have felt the rush of adrenaline and fear while watching storms roll in from the comfort of their deck. However, the panic is indescribable when one realizes the local meteorologist is zooming in on their neighborhood, demanding everyone to take shelter just before him, and the rest of the power in the house goes black.
Then it’s the noise of the tornado sirens dying mid-wail, the neighbor’s wind chimes going silent, and in their place, hearing the roar that every tornado survivor recounts. Many people can describe themselves as someone who loves storms and has always wanted to see a tornado firsthand. But when a tornado is less than half a mile from your house, one truly understands Mother Nature’s potential power to destroy everything you know and love.
In Indianola, the last time a tornado touchdown was recorded was July 23, 2010. Two EF-1s nearly missed Simpson College and the heart of downtown Indianola. Thankfully, minor damage was done to buildings and trees, and no one was injured.
This, however, proved that the beloved Indianola is not exempt from nature’s fury. Since it’s been nearly 15 years, Indianola could be on deck to be ground zero for Earth’s wild elements at any given moment.
Meteorologists like Reed Timmer are predicting that this year’s tornado season is going to take a historical shift and be one of the worst years in decades, comparing it to the 2011 season, which had six EF-5 tornadoes and killed 553 innocent people. There has not been EF-5 damage since Moore, Oklahoma, in 2013.
If the predictions are correct, it’s safe to say citizens in the Midwest, including Simpson, need to be prepared.
According to the Campus Security Emergency Reference Guide, in case of a tornado emergency, students need to seek shelter either in the lowest level of a building or in the most central part, away from windows and exterior walls. They also note that it’s critical not to use an elevator and to notify campus security if assistance is needed.
All Simpson students need to sign up for SAFE alerts that notify them when an emergency is in place and when it has expired.
So far, in 2025, at least 42 lives have been taken by severe storms. Tornado season just started in March.
Mother Nature has a mind of her own, and the warpath and devastation she plans to unleash for the remainder of spring and early summer cannot be predicted. Heed all warnings and stay safe, Simpson.