Monday’s tornado, in Moore, Oklahoma, was not the first time a twister has taken direct aim at a school. On May 2, 1929, a violent tornado swept directly through a two-story schoolhouse in a small community in southwestern Virginia called Rye Cove. At the time of the storm, more than a hundred and fifty people were inside the building.

One of the people who arrived to help in the immediate aftermath was A. P. Carter, a talented songwriter. Twelve students were killed; a young teacher’s body was found seventy-five yards from the school. More than fifty were injured. Carter later wrote a haunting song about what he saw, called “The Cyclone of Rye Cove”:

There were mothers so dear and fathers the same,
That came to this horrible scene,
Searching and crying, each found her own child,
Dying on a pillow of stone.

A. P., his wife, Sara, and his sister-in-law, Maybelle—who performed as a group named the Carter Family—were revolutionary forces in American music. Much of country and bluegrass music can trace its origins to their work. Yet the simple plaintiveness of this song makes it the most affecting they ever wrote.

The song also has meaning for my family. A mile away from the school, my great-grandfather, an itinerant Latin teacher and farmer named Walter J. Rollins, watched helplessly from his home as the “cyclone” gathered strength and moved toward the valley where the school was located. He later described the tornado to a reporter from the Scott County Herald as “a great funnel hurling itself through the air and bearing in front a kind of headlight.” He said that the school building “seemed to rise into the air and then explode.” This scene of destruction held a personal terror for him: his youngest son, Rufus, my great uncle, was a student there.

Walter was one of the parents who rushed to the school in fear. Rufus had suffered multiple abrasions and fractures, but his body was packed in ice to reduce the swelling from his injuries, and he survived.

For all the grief they bring, tornadoes also expose the fundamental heroism and decency of people. They strip away the mundane concerns of daily life to reveal what really matters: how much we love those that mean the most to us, and how much we would gladly sacrifice to keep them from harm.

The ruins of the school at Rye Cove, Virginia, May 9, 1929. Credit: Library of Virginia.