As her son slept Saturday night in the bedroom of their small RV, Brittany Goss nervously tracked news alerts on the storm that was growing angry outside the thin wood-paneled walls of her home.
The weather looked bad, but it seemed to be shifting north, away from the coveted RV community at the Lake Ray Roberts Marina she and her husband and son had just moved to a week earlier. Maybe they had already seen the worst of it, she thought.
In a small house up the road from the RV park, marina owners Bill and Sherri Williams’ phone rang. It was a friend in Oklahoma who was tracking the storm and watched as it veered from its original path.
“It’s coming your way,” he told the couple. “You have 10 minutes.”
The Williamses jumped into their truck and drove around the marina blaring their horn. They screamed at anyone they could find to take shelter in the walk-in cooler of the marina’s vacant restaurant. It was the only safe place in a community of boats and campers.
Goss heard the frantic honking over the wind and rain. Something is wrong, she thought.
She shook her 7-year-old son awake, grabbed her wallet and raced to her car. In the blackness of the night and the rage of the storm, she drove as fast as she could away from the RV park. If there was a tornado or where it was, she didn’t know. She just knew she wasn’t going to be caught in an RV during one.
Inside the marina restaurant next to the RV park, the Williamses shut themselves and more than a dozen other people inside the walk-in refrigerator. Within minutes the light bulb inside flickered and went dark. The roof groaned and they listened as parts of it peeled away from the building.
For 15 minutes they huddled in the cooler as the storm ripped apart the restaurant and the world outside of it. They thought about the people who didn’t come out of their RVs in time to make it into the makeshift storm shelter. There were at least five of them unaccounted for.
“Everyone is coming out of this alive,” Bill Williams said to himself.
Once the storm passed, he and the others emerged from the cooler to find a horrific scene awaiting them in the dark. RVs were torn in half and thrown across the park as if they were pieces of cardboard caught up in a gust of wind. A man, alive but injured, laid in the parking lot among the debris.
The Williamses and the people they sheltered with rushed to the man’s aid and started pushing their way past mangled pieces of metal and vinyl to find other survivors.
“We listened for yells and moans,” Bill Williams said.
They found seven people who had been trapped in their RVs or thrown from their homes during the storm, he said. They were all found alive and somehow made it out with non-life threatening injuries. Only one remains in the hospital, Bill Williams said.
Goss managed to escape to her mother’s home in nearby Aubrey and started piecing together the picture of the reality she and her son had narrowly escaped. Every single one of the 24 RVs at the park was destroyed, neighbors told her. Every inch of the community they once called home was unlivable, ripped apart by a storm that cut a path across Cooke and Denton counties in North Texas.
When she arrived at the marina the next morning, Goss found blue skies and an unimaginable scene. Shoes, books, deodorant sticks, spatulas, mattresses, half-eaten waffles, cans of sardines and sinks were strewn across the parking lot. Part of a couch stuck out from a gaping hole in the restaurant’s roof. Her RV, which had been thrown across the street from where it was parked, was unrecognizable.
In the 95-degree heat with air that smelled of gasoline and punctured septic tanks, she and her neighbors picked through the pulverized remnants of their homes to salvage what they could. She managed to save most of their clothes and a few family photos. The rest was lost to the storm.
“We were going to go fishing and hang out by the marina today, but we’re doing this instead,” she said. “I’m just grateful we’re alive.”
