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Scott Watson, vice president of human resources and support services at St. John’s Mercy Hospital in Joplin, was working in his yard Sunday afternoon, May 22, just before all hell broke loose.
Two daughters and his wife Kathy had been home but left to get ice cream.
"It was humid and muggy," Scott said. "But not extraordinary for that time of year."
The first tornado siren sounded. Scott, a Gallatin native and 1979 GHS graduate, has lived in tornado alley all of his life and was accustomed to such warnings. He went inside and turned on the television to get the weather. The city of Joplin was under a tornado warning. The siren suddenly quit blaring. An eerie silence descended. A short while later, his wife and daughter came home.
"Literally, while they were arriving, things started changing rapidly," Scott said.
It began to hail. The sky turned a sickly green. Scott got his children, the child of a college friend who was staying over, and their dog safely into the basement. He and Kathy stepped out onto their porch for a last look around.
"I couldn’t see the tornado," he said. "The sky was as black as the ace of spades. I remember saying to Kathy, ‘Do you hear that? Do you hear that?’ We could hear it coming."
They headed for the basement. Joplin would soon be slammed by a multi-vortex tornado producing winds of more than 200 mph. The monstrous storm would leave a path of devastation measuring three-quarter mile wide and six miles long. It would take the lives of 160 people and would prove to be the eighth deadliest tornado on record in the U.S.
When it was over and Scott came upstairs again, he found the windows blown out of his 1939 home. A neighbor’s vinyl privacy fence pierced his daughters prom dress as it entered his second story window. It was still pitch black outside, but he could see the damage up and down the street. He began checking on his neighbors, some who were quite elderly. The more he walked, the more significant the damage. His children set off on foot to the Walmart location where, as it ended, several perished. That is the location from where his wife and daughter had returned as the tornado approached.
"When they came back, they said, ‘Daddy, it’s gone. It’s all gone,’" Scott recalls.
Scott’s house was only two blocks from the main path of the storm through Joplin. He began to realize how close a call it had been. The main path of the twister’s destruction was only a stone’s throw away.
"It got my roof, the fence, the trees," he said. "We were very, very, very lucky."
Scott began hearing from people he met about what was going on at St. John’s Mercy.
"I heard rumors about it being blown up, that it was on fire," he said. "Anyway, it took two-and-a -half hours of clearing with a chainsaw to get there."
Nothing could have prepared Scott for his first look at the obliterated hospital.
"It was unimaginable," he said. "Surreal." Cars piled six high on top of one another in the hospital parking lot."
All of the hospital’s patients had been moved to various places. Scott spent the rest of the day helping load much-needed medicine to take to them. He finally got back home at about 3 a.m. completely exhausted.
"I told Kathy, ‘It’s gone. The hospital. The office buildings. All gone.’"
The next morning Scott and other hospital management got together to figure out what to do next. At that point, in a city that had not yet begun to pick up the pieces, there was not a lot they could do.
"We had to start all over, and at the same time continue to account for 200 some patients that had been moved that night," Scott said. "We just tread water for a day or two."
Then a plan began to emerge. The hospital, under the direction of president/CEO Lynn Britton, committed to finding jobs for all of its staff —— that meant retaining 2,200 employees.
"That’s when the real work began," said Scott.
He and his human resources staff would have to find work for 1,857 hospital workers; 450 people in the clinics or doctor’s offices; and 100 volunteers. Those on the payroll would keep the same wages and benefits and seniority.
It seemed an impossible task. But they did it. Using a "talent sharing" program, in the six months that have passed since the tornado, Scott has found positions for his coworkers through host companies in about 20 locations. So far about 95% of the staff has been relocated to other jobs.
"We’ve come along way," said Scott. "I’m very proud of what we’ve done. I have an awfully good staff. We’ve received more support than you can possibly imagine."
Only about 15 people still have no job yet.
"Those are specialty positions, like a helicopter flight nurse," he said. "But for the rest to have jobs, it’s just amazing."
St. John’s staff are on standby for their old jobs waiting for them at a new state-of-the-art hospital scheduled to be built. The facility will be located at Interstate 44 and South Main Street. Mercy has committed $950 million to the city.
"They will break ground in January 2012 and plan to open in 2015," said Scott.
Scott said he has many things to be grateful for, without losing sight of the horrible losses his community has suffered.
"I regret and mourn the 160 folks who were lost," he said. "At the same time, with 8,000 structures destroyed, it could have been a thousand people lost in the tornado and that wouldn’t have surprised anybody either."
Scott praised the efforts of the hospital staff on duty the night of the tornado. Their story has now become a legend. Shocked and dazed themselves, a crew of about 150 carried almost 200 patients out of an eight-story building, with no light and no power, while the walls and ceilings collapsed around them. Doctors and nurses treated the injured, shielding them with their bodies, while light bulbs popped and water pipes burst overhead. One doctor performed surgery using a flashlight he held in his mouth.
"I’m grateful none of the employees had severe injuries, though many had personal losses of homes and vehicles," Scott said.
And Scott is proud of his fellow human beings. Emergency units showed up from neighboring towns, counties, and even states to transport patients and help set up a MASH field hospital adjacent to St. John’s.
In the midst of calamity, blessings abounded. Scott recalls a story told him by a safety manager from the hospital ——
"He and his wife and two friends and their baby rode out the tornado in the bathroom of a small frame house," Scott said. "When it was over the bathroom ceiling was gone and the house was gone. They walked out into open air. And there are thousands of those amazing, unbelievable stories."
Scott said no amount of chaos or confusion could break the tie of family and friends.
"What I will actually cherish remembering from this horrific event was the amount of facebook chatter I received following the tornado just to see if my family was okay," said Scott. "Although we had no phone or power of any sort for three weeks at our home, I was able to power up a computer at my makeshift office to see the messages from my high school and college and hometown friends. It meant so much to me in the middle of what was certainly a life altering event."