SOUTHWEST TIMES RECORD, Monday, April 16, 2001
Tornado's Damage Recounted
By Jeff Arnold
TIMES RECORD ¥ JARNOLD@SWTIMES.COM
Five years ago on April 21 shortly after 11 p.m. downtown Fort Smith was turned inside
out by a ferocious tornado that took the lives of two children in a north side
neighborhood. Without warning, the city was set upon by swirling winds that topped
200 miles per hour and picked apart downtown buildings that had stood since at least
the turn of the century. Fort Smith Mayor Ray Baker said looking down Garrison
Avenue was like looking at a war zone.
"It was a very shocking thing to think that in a matter of minutes a storm could be so
destructive like that," Baker said. "You just can't get that picture out of your mind
of the destruction that wind can do, and houses and buildings had been so terribly
damaged."
The storm was not confined to Fort Smith or even Sebastian County.
It eventually moved into Van Buren, where it destroyed homes in Vista Hills estates
and the Cedar Creek subdivision. More than 1,300 houses and apartments were
damaged or destroyed in Crawford County. Fortunately, no deaths occurred in the
Crawford County, and only a handful of injuries was reported.
In Fort Smith, 88 businesses were damaged or destroyed, as were almost 1,500 homes
And apartments. In monetary terms, in Sebastian and Crawford County the final bill
added up to more than $300 million. In addition to the homes and businesses
destroyed, historic landmarks also were erased from the Fort Smith landscape, but
the most precious casualties of the tornado could not be measured in dollars and cents.
Two Fort Smith children, Angelica Marie Fleming, 2 years old, and 5-year-old Kyle
Johnson, perished that night in homes only six blocks apart. Johnson was pinned
under a piece of his home at 3419 N. 23rd St. for 45 minutes before he could be
extricated, but by that time it was too late. Fifty more people were reported
injured in Fort Smith.
The timing of the storm, late on a Sunday night, probably prevented additional
injuries and even fatalities. "If it had hit during the evening hours of a rush hour,
there would have been a huge number of casualties," Baker said.
It was the deadliest storm to hit Fort Smith in the 20th century but not in the city's
history. On Jan. 11, 1898, shortly after 11 p.m. a cyclone struck near the U.S.
National Cemetery and then moved on a northeast path that eventually claimed the
lives of 50 people and injured 44 more.
Most of the 1898 deaths, according to newspaper accounts, occurred along Garrison
Avenue in boarding rooms and apartments above several downtown businesses.
During that storm, the city also was pelted with hail the size of hens' eggs.
Even after the havoc wreaked by the 1996 storm settled, it is believed to be partially
responsible for the fire that destroyed the 99-year-old Eads Furniture Co. three days
later.
Heavily damaged by the tornado, it is believed that the inferno was sparked when
the lights in the building were turned on for the first time since the tornado. Fire
officials suspect that the fire spread with the speed it did because of a gas leak in
the basement of the building. In addition to the Eads Building, five other
downtown businesses were destroyed by the blaze.
Aside from the damage left in its wake, the tornado also left a controversy swirling
about the lack of advance warning from the National Weather Service office in Tulsa
before the storm slammed into Garrison Avenue.
Officials with the NWS in Tulsa claim that they issued a tornado warning at
11:08 p.m., four minutes before the twister struck, although officials with the Fort
Smith Police Department said they never received the warning message until after
the tornado touched down.
Regardless of where the breakdown in communication occurred, warning sirens
never sounded, and the last word many Fort Smith residents received about the
impending storm was a severe thunderstorm warning issued by the NWS less than
20 minutes before the tornado exploded on the city.
Today's Times Record Insight section, Picking Up the Pieces, takes a look at what
happened that night five years ago and how the area slowly began to pull itself back
together.