By FRED KRONER
Monday was an anniversary for me.
Not one that I care to remember, but one that I also can’t forget.
There aren’t a lot of days in my past where I can recall exactly what I was doing at a particular moment in time.
One exception is Friday evening, April 19, 1996.
I was assigned by The News-Gazette to cover the auto racing program at the Vermillion County Speedway, just west of Danville. They ran some of the prelim races on an overcast and slightly drizzly night. The crowd was not good, so they decided to call the program.
Reports were that rains — possibly heavy — were heading that way, but they had not arrived.
Maybe it was coincidence, but there appeared to be a pattern in those years of postponing the racing programs on nights when the crowds were small and there was any hint of weather issues moving into the area.
On this particular night, the skies were overcast, but no steady rains had started by the time the announcement was made to cancel the night’s races.
By doing so before the feature races were held, promoters were not obligated to make big payouts to the drivers on a night when there weren’t enough spectators to cover the costs.
For me, it meant an early night off, so I remember happily leaving the raceway. In those days, I was typically greeting the next day by the time I arrived home at some point after midnight.
I headed for Mahomet on Interstate-74. I rarely listened to the radio, unless it was for a ball game, so I had a cassette in my tape player.
As I approached Ogden, I saw dozens of cars and semis pulled over to the side of the highway. It was the weirdest thing I had ever seen. On both sides of the interstate, dozens of vehicles were parked. I drove on a bit, and finally about a half-mile before the overpass at Ogden, I pulled off the road and pulled in behind a semi.
There were no cell phones; at least not in my life. I still didn’t think to turn on the radio, though I was certainly curious about what was causing the backup.
We all sat in our vehicles for about 20 more minutes before vehicles slowly and cautiously started pulling out. I joined in the procession. As I got closer to the Ogden overpass, I looked off to the north of the interstate and saw a big semi that was out in the middle of a farmer’s field, probably 200 to 300 yards from the actual road.
I decided to turn the radio on to WDWS and within minutes learned about a tornado that had just blown through Ogden after having caused destruction in southeast Urbana.
Later, when I read in the newspaper the timing that the tornado devastated Ogden and compared it to when I pulled over, I figured had I kept going I would have gotten to the overpass at Ogden at virtually the same time as the tornado blew through that exact area.
It could have been my car out in that farmer’s field.
Talk about a close call. Maybe I should have found a way to celebrate the 25th anniversary on Monday and my good fortune for stopping when I did.
