When disaster struck for them, the Andersons found themselves in an unusual and, for them, awkward position: accepting help and kindness which they much prefer to give than receive.
The Republican | Mark M. MurrayElaine and Frank Anderson lived at 422 South Branch Parkway in Springfield until the June 1 tornado destroyed their home. They say they count their blessings this Christmas, thanks in large part to the many friends who have helped them rebuild their lives.
Elaine and Frank Anderson count their blessings with care this Christmas.
Each blessing has a name: The neighbors who yelled her name repeatedly to guide Elaine from the rubble of their home; the man she’d never met before but who drove her to Wing Memorial Hospital that night so she could be with Frank; her former students who showed up unasked to help with the cleanup, and the clerk at the Sleepy’s mattress store in Palmer who was more concerned about her peace of mind than when he’d be paid.
There are more, many more. Elaine Anderson keeps a list of them all. No act of kindness went unnoticed. None is forgotten.
Gone from their lives is the house at 422 South Branch Parkway in Springfield that they’d called home for 16 years, torn apart by the June 1 tornado as it coursed its 39-mile path of destruction through Western Massachusetts.
The property was, as Frank Anderson recalls it, “our own little Shangri-La” with just over an acre of land, a panoramic view of Lake Massasoit, a marsh that drew birds and ducks, and gardens that he created after taking a landscape design course at Springfield Technical Community College.
All that remains now is a vacant lot with a mailbox at the top of the driveway. A “For Sale” sign stands nearby, a sign that the Andersons are moving forward with a new chapter in life.
Before June 1, the Andersons’ lives as individuals and as a couple were largely focused on helping others, she as community relations director for the Greater Springfield-University of Massachusetts Partnership and he as a disaster volunteer and board member for the Pioneer Valley Chapter of the American Red Cross.
Both come from families “who believe you pay your dues, share with others and look beyond oneself,” Elaine Anderson says. She can remember as a child growing up in Burlington, Vt., having delivered groceries to families less fortunate than hers; he received the Pynchon Award in 2008 for his years of service to the community through the Red Cross, the United Way and the Fisher House for hospice care in Amherst.
When disaster struck for them in June, the Andersons found themselves in an unusual and, for them, awkward position: accepting help and kindness which they much prefer to give than receive.
“There has to be something that I – that we – needed to learn,” says Elaine Anderson as she reflects back on that afternoon. She had stopped at their home en route from her office at STCC to visit her husband at Wing Memorial in Palmer.
Had it not been for Frank Anderson being in a hospital bed that afternoon, both doubt they would be celebrating this Christmas together. “If it were not for Frank, I would not be here,” Elaine Anderson says succinctly.
He was watching TV from his bed, something he never does in the middle of an afternoon, saw the weather alert warning of a tornado and telephoned her immediately.
“I told her to put the car in the garage and get downstairs right away. For once, she listened to me,” he recalled.
“There was something about his voice that said, ‘Listen,’” Elaine Anderson said. She did as he advised, and then bedlam unfolded.
She remembers “the rumbling like a freight train,” the “out-of-this-world” sounds, the loud shrieking noises and then the point at which “all hell broke loose.”
“The whole house was vibrating. I ran for the bathroom and huddled. Kitten had disappeared,” she said, recalling how their cat, “Mr. Tuxedo,” sought its own path to safety. (The cat didn’t reappear until three days after the storm.)
The Republican | Mark M. MurrayThis is a view of the Andersons' property at 422 South Branch Parkway in Springfield as it appears today.
Then, there was quiet, and amidst the rubble of her basement, Elaine Anderson gathered herself together.
“I can get out,” she remembers thinking to herself. Trees were piled up in layers, blocking any exit from the basement, and the ceiling over the stairway to the first floor had started to collapse. She managed, though, crawling on her arthritic knees, to make her way up the wobbly stairs.
Upstairs, she found the walls of the office where she’d been seated blown out, the attic collapsed onto her desk and the oriental rug gone from the floor. In the bedroom nearby, an air conditioner from outside the home sat atop their bed. “At that point, I kind of tuned out,” Elaine Anderson said, recalling the devastation which she confronted.
She found her purse and briefcase unmoved in the hallway where she’d left them less than an hour before. And, then, she heard people screaming her name.
The shouts of her neighbors helped guide her out of the house, negotiate live wires across the property and make her way to the top of their driveway onto South Branch Parkway.
“All I kept thinking was the gardens aren’t there. Where is the potting shed? I was standing there thinking, ‘OK, this is interesting,’” she recalled.
Then, people began shouting, “Run. Run. Another (tornado) is on the way.” And, with that, it was off to the home of other neighbors to seek refuge nearby.
Through it all, Elaine Anderson, who is 77, focused on one thing: letting her husband of 33 years know she was OK and finding a way to be at his side. She initially called the couple’s longtime friend, Dr. Charles Cavagnaro, the president and chief executive officer at Wing. Cavagnaro wound up facing as many detours into Springfield as Elaine Anderson faced getting out of her neighborhood.
She walked nearly a mile before encountering a police officer near Allen Street who flagged down a passing car and asked the driver to take her to Wing. The trip which ordinarily took 20 minutes wound up consuming four hours and 15 minutes, more than enough time for Elaine Anderson to learn about her driving companion and forging a friendship out of what had initially presented a situation of fear and trepidation.
As they parted, she offered the man the $40 she had in her wallet; “I said, ‘Please take this money. You’ve been so kind to me,’” she recalled. “He said, ‘Oh no, I thank you. I had kind of hit a brick wall today. Being with you, you’re so calm, has been an enlightening experience for me.’”
In the intervening months, Elaine Anderson has continued to mentor the man who drove her that night as he hopes to continue his education at UMass. He’s just one of the many people who wound up helping the Andersons find their way free of their tornado experience.
Cavagnaro, as it turned out, proved to be chief among their guardian angels. He and his family gave them a place in their home as temporary shelter, and, together with Dr. Joseph Bruseo and the team at Wing, Cavagnaro worked to provide the couple a more permanent place to live. They now have a long-term lease for a house owned by the hospital. (Elaine Anderson is also a member of the board of trustees at Wing.)
“We know a hell of a lot of people between us; we didn’t even have to ask (for help),” Frank Anderson said, marveling at those who came to their aid in the days after the tornado.
“I didn’t know all these people would volunteer to help,” said Elaine Anderson. “They came from everywhere. The remarkable thing is the way the community embraced us. They gave us the will to put one foot in front of the other.”
Dozens of friends from near and far appeared at the doorstep to what had been their home. They helped pack up what remained of the couple’s furnishings and precious antiques collected over the years; the boxes are still being unpacked, providing still day-by-day revelations of what the tornado tore from their lives.
The Republican | Mark M. MurrayLooking at what would have been the front of the home owned by Elaine and Frank Anderson at 422 South Branch Parkway, Springfield, now is a empty plot of land after the house was destroyed by the June 1st tornado and then the remains were taken away.
Over the course of the summer, Elaine Anderson also lost one of her dearest friends, Lois Theodora Whelan Grady, but not before Grady – known as “Teddy” – imparted some wise thoughts. “Even in death, she was the best,” Elaine Anderson recalled. “She had a way of accepting life on its own terms. She was so positive, she told me, ‘You just need to trust the universe.’”
And, so, Elaine Anderson did as her friend advised. “I learned to trust the universe,” she said. “I don’t know why (the tornado) happened. I’m not angry that it happened. I feel very blessed so I’m incredulous that it happened. I’m pretty much the same person (I was before) but with comprehension and wonderful connections that have hope and love and power.”
The decision to demolish the remains of the house and clear the property for a new family to find a home there was not an easy one to make, but it made sense for them, the couple says. They had, after all, moved to Springfield because of their commitment to the city, to urban education and the causes they hold dear. That commitment remains, but the attachment to the property does not.
“It just wasn’t the same,” said Elaine Anderson. “We had trees, and suddenly there were no trees. I think my relief came on the second or third day of demolition. There was no evidence of the garage. It was just land.”
“We lost a house, not a home,” Frank Anderson reminds his wife as they speak. “Home is where you are; it can be a tent in New York.”
Elaine Anderson knows other families are not as fortunate as she and her husband have been. She knows many others are still struggling to rebuild their lives from the devastation left by the tornado. And, just as she helped her mother deliver groceries all those years ago, Elaine Anderson is prepared to help others today.
What would she tell them? “Come see me; there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. My office is at 267 Garvey Hall, Springfield Technical Community College. My door is open.”
“Look at the people who have nothing,” Frank Anderson added. “I think we have come out of this remarkably well.”
A week from today on Jan. 1, Frank Anderson will celebrate his 84th birthday with what he describes as his greatest blessing in life still at his side. “I have a reason to be here; she’s sitting right next to me.”