Every family has its own folklore. Part of the Bailey family folklore is the story of Great Uncle Press Bailey and the tornado. We, meaning myself and several of my cousins, were standing on the front porch of Grandma's house in Carleton. It was a warm summer day, and we were surrounding Uncle Press as he related his story. This is how I remember it, with two additions from Don.
When he was a young man, (I don't know how young) he was caught outside during a tornado. He was holding the cellar door open for others to take shelter and was blown off his feet before they all got in.
"It picked me up in the air and twirled me around," he intoned. "and lifted me 100 feet in the air."
Wow, and Uncle Press lived to tell the story!
"That tornado twisted and turned me, spun me around and dropped me in a potato patch three football fields away." he continued.
Uncle Press had his audience of young nieces and nephews enthralled.
"When it finally threw me to the ground, I had broken my back!"
Holy mackeral! What an amazing story! I could hardly wait to tell Grandad about what Uncle Press had told us.
"Grandad, you'll never guess what Uncle Press told us..." I retold the story as Uncle Press had told us.
"...and he broke his back!"
Sitting in the living room on the davenport (That's what the sofa was called and Grandma's and Grandad's house.), Granddad listened and shook his head. "That story gets bigger everytime he tells it," Granddad said. "That tornoado only lifted him a few feet in the air and put him back. Press never broke his back. He just sprained it a little."
If folklore is another name for a tale tall, then Uncle Press and the Tornado had become folklore. Granddad knew the facts, but Uncle Press didn't let facts get in the way of a good story.