Looking out his serving window from his spot on Kirkwood Avenue, Ken Csillag, the owner of Elli-May's Smoked BBQ food truck, watched light rain sprinkle onto Peoples Park around 6:35 p.m.
Then the tornado sirens started.
The sprinkles gave way to light rain, but still, Csillag thought the storm was going to be nothing.
“But out of nowhere,” Csillag said. “All hell broke loose.”
Severe thunderstorms passed through Bloomington on Thursday night. Indiana University Bloomington alerts announced a tornado warning issued by the National Weather Service at 6:39 p.m., extending it until 7:30 p.m.
The NWS Emergency Alert urged residents to take immediate shelter to protect their lives from a “large, extremely dangerous and potentially deadly tornado on the ground.”
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On IU’s campus, junior Ava Bargeloh was holding a piece of a model human skull at an anatomy lab in the Campus Office and Classroom Building when it was evacuated.
She was scared that if the building was unstable, the tanks containing donated human bodies might flip over and spill formaldehyde and embalming fluid.
“It was just a silly fear,” Bargeloh said.
But it's what she was thinking about as a tornado ripped through Bloomington’s west side.
Her friend, sophomore Eli Rutherford, studied his anatomy flashcards for an exam the next day while he sheltered near Bargeloh in the hallway.
After being cleared to leave their anatomy lab, they stepped outside. There was a stillness to the environment, and Bargeloh said they saw trees lying broken on the ground.
The pair avoided the debris on their way to Noodles & Company. They needed food before heading to the Indiana Memorial Union to keep studying.
“The grind never stops,” Bargeloh said. “Even during a tornado.”
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Sophomore and self-checkout attendant Journi Tisby sat in the Kroger meat freezer with no phone signal.
The Kinser Pike store location activated its safety plan when the tornado warning was issued. The checkout lines were shut down and employees began ushering the customers to the freezer.
Tisby said some refused to be led to the safe areas and decided to leave instead. Security present advised them not to, but if they wanted to leave, there was no stopping them.
Tisby said a man approached her in the freezer with his three daughters. He said he had two other children who were home alone. Tisby could see the man was conflicted.
“He just kept looking back and forth,” Tisby said. “Like, what should he do?”
The man decided to drive home in the storm.
“I guess he felt guilty keeping three sheltered, and the other two at home alone,” Tisby said.
Tisby opened the freezer door for him.
“I think I would’ve gone back home too if I was a dad,” Tisby’s coworker Noah Conlin added.
“Yeah I would’ve as well,” Tisby said.
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Ross store manager Harper Peabody locked down the store before she heard what she thought sounded like a train going by.
The store was only .4 miles from the Fifth Third Bank and ATM on West Third Street where the tornado ripped a hole in the roof.
Employees directed the six customers in the store at the time of the lockdown first to the fitting room, then, when things got worse, to the break room.
Peabody helped ease the fears of two customers from Texas who hadn’t experienced a tornado before. She said they asked her if events like this happen often.
“It’s a culture shock for sure,” Peabody said.
As debris hit the building and booming noises echoed through the store, Peabody was mainly thinking about her dogs and cats at home in Ellettsville. Her five pets: Muggsy, Charlie, Bella, Apollo and Luna were by themselves.
“They stay upstairs, right? So, if a tornado comes in,” Peabody said. “It's like, where are they gonna go?”
Peabody had 30 minutes of her shift left before she could go home.
“I need to check on them,” Peabody said. “Make sure my house is still in place. Then I’ll watch the Rookie.”
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In his food truck, Csillag fought to stay upright.
He said the wind, hail and rain rocked his truck for 15 minutes.
“You know, it was like Forrest Gump said, the rain was sideways,” he said.
He called his neighbor who works in construction.
“I told him, you know, I may be calling you later,” Csillag said. “You might have to bring the crane and pick the truck up.”
Csillag said the drain behind his truck couldn’t keep up, that the water was just running over it, instead of into it. The water level was high enough, Csillag said, to hit the back of his truck.
From his window, he saw the trees in Peoples Park bent by the wind, forcefully swaying back and forth.
“Then it was done,” Csillag said. "Like somebody shut the light switch off.”
