Amanda saved her baby girl from a tornado!
When a tornado descended, Amanda Stockfelt knew that if she couldn’t hold on to her two-month-old, Autumn, she might never see her baby again . . .
The doctor’s going to be amazed at how much you’ve grown!” Amanda Stockfelt cooed as she strapped her two-month- old daughter, Autumn, into her car seat.
Autumn’s well-baby checkup was scheduled for later that day, so she was going to work with her mama for a few hours.
Rain was falling steadily as Amanda arrived at her trailer-office in east New Orleans.
“I hope it lets up a bit before we have to leave for the doctor’s office,” she commented to her co-worker, Leeanne.
But the rain only worsened, pelting the metal roof so loudly that Amanda and Leeanne could barely hear each other speak.
Suddenly, the women jumped as their cellphones erupted in alarm.
Tornado warning! the screens blared.
Holding on for dear life
I should leave now,” Amanda said, making sure Autumn was securely buckled into her carrier. But Leeanne stopped her.
“Listen!” she shuddered, and Amanda could hear it: the powerful roar of what sounded like a rushing locomotive.
Only they weren’t near any train tracks.
Leeanne hurried to a window. “The tornado’s coming this way right now!” she cried, climbing under her desk and beckoning Amanda to do the same.
Shoving Autumn’s carrier in after Leeanne, Amanda squeezed in, too, then lay her body over the carrier to shield her baby.
Dear God! she gasped as the building began to rock. Seconds later, a window exploded, sending glass and stacks of paper flying.
The howl of the tornado was deafening, but the screech of metal pierced it as the trailer tipped on its side. Amanda gripped the carrier with all her might as she slipped sideways, collapsing on Leeanne. Just then, the ceiling caved in. The walls blew off. And the women and baby Autumn lay exposed to the pummeling rain and grit-blasting winds.
Please save us! Amanda prayed, her arms stretching as the tornado lifted her like a kite on a string. An instant later, she and Autumn were sucked into the vortex, Amanda clutching the carrier for dear life.
Flung toward the sky, Amanda and Autumn ricocheted 10, 20, 30 feet inside the tornado. Raindrops struck like bullets, and Amanda’s left hand lost its grip on the carrier.
I can’t let go! I’ll never see her again! she panicked. She desperately fought to keep her right arm hooked around the handle as Autumn’s carrier was lifted high over her head.
Amanda could feel the last of her strength giving way. “Noooooo!” she wailed. Then, suddenly, just as abruptly as it had arrived, the twister had moved on. Without the winds to hold them aloft, Amanda and Autumn plummeted to the ground. Amanda landed hard on her side in the parking lot a few yards from Leeanne . . . and an arm’s length from Autumn’s carrier, lying on its side.
My baby! Amanda gasped, ignoring the searing pain in her left leg as she scrambled to right the carrier.
“Autumn!” Amanda screamed as she tried to wipe her daughter’s tiny face, covered in grit and mud. Her eyes were closed, and she was silent.
Unfastening the clips, she lifted Autumn into her arms. Only then did Autumn’s mud- caked eyelids open.
“Thank You, God!” Amanda sobbed as she felt Autumn’s tiny chest rise and fall.
Miraculous survival
We need to go to the hospital,” Amanda told LeeAnne, but with the roads choked with debris, rescuers would never reach them. So Amanda used a good Samaritan’s phone to call her fiancé, Rob Mignault, who drives a tow truck.
“I’ll get there!” he promised, and after muscling his truck through a back route, he rushed them to the nearest ER.
Autumn still had not uttered a single cry when doctors began examining her. But after a complete physical and a CT scan, they determined, “she’s going to be fine!” Thank You! Amanda wept. Amanda and Leeanne both suffered muscle injuries. But because of Amanda’s refusal to let go of her baby, Autumn came through the ordeal with only a few small scratches.
“God must’ve been there helping,” Amanda insists, and others agree, because amazingly, not a single life was lost to the tornado that day. But for Amanda to have been sucked into the vortex and still hold on . . .
“That we are even here is truly a miracle,” Amanda beams. “But I’m nobody special. I’m just a mom. I didn’t do anything that any other parent wouldn’t have done!”
“Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn’t know you had.”
LINDA WOOTEN