Earlham Echo

Queck Family survives tornado near Greenfield

May 28, 2024

Paul and Abbey Queck have lived in Iowa all their lives, so they’re like most of us long-time residents of the state. When thunderstorms kick up in the spring, you pay attention—but most of the time it’s no big deal. You may go out on your deck to have a look at the clouds, snap a few pictures, go inside when it starts raining, then pick up a few small limbs out of the yard when it’s over. Rarely—two or three times a year, maybe—you might have to go to your safe place when the sky looks particularly threatening or the warnings are more serious. In most all cases, it passes over without incident.

But something just felt different on May 21 in southwest and central Iowa. The sky looked more ominous. There were multiple, menacing warnings for a wide area. The meteorologists gave dire forecasts. Tornados were spotted on the ground.

Abbey, a 2014 Earlham High School graduate and the current K-6 P.E. teacher at the school, and Paul decided to head to the basement of their near century old farmhouse in the country, 10 miles southwest of Greenfield, with their two sons.

“The phone was blowing up with warnings,” said Paul.

While they were heading to the basement, Paul looked through their large picture window and saw the tornado. It was moving right toward them.

“We thought about leaving. We had a few minutes. But where do you go?” said Paul. “We could drive right into it. We could go to Orient, but what if it hits there?”

Taking shelter right away was the only option. They hunkered in a corner—Abbey holding Henry, 3, and Paul with Hudson, 13 months. They could hear it coming, so Paul threw a blanket over everybody. They took a direct hit.

“It was over in 5 seconds. Probably less than that,” said Abbey.

While Abbey shielded Henry, a large, heavy chunk of a brick wall fell onto her back. In the immediate aftermath, Paul shoved it off of her. She was in pain, but she and everyone got up right away and climbed up the stairs out of the basement. Their house was gone.

But help had already arrived.

“Three cars were in the driveway as we were coming out of the basement,” said Paul.

Neighbors were in two of the cars. A professional storm chaser and photographer named Ryan Scholl was in the other. Scholl records and livestreams his encounters, and the video of this one is stunning. As he drove east on 310^th Street, he witnessed the Queck’s house being destroyed. He shouted, “Was that a barn? Please say that was just a barn!” As he approached the driveway, he said, “Ohmygod. There was a house here.”

Scholl pulled in, parked amidst live power lines that were down, ran out of his vehicle, and found the family. He ushered them in and asked if they were alright and if he could take them somewhere. The Quecks were shaken, of course, but still able to think clearly enough to realize that Abbey needed to get to a hospital.

On the way to Adair County Hospital, they used Scholl’s phone to call Abbey’s parents, Jeff and Melody Murphy, who live a few miles east on Macksburg Road. Other concerned family and friends were trying to call Abbey but having no luck. Abbey had left her phone upstairs before descending to the basement, and now it was long gone. She and many of her friends use the Find a Friend app, which shares users’ locations. Everyone knew something was wrong when Abbey’s location was displayed as 6 miles north of her house—in a field.

Scholl dropped the family at the hospital in Greenfield, but the scene there was chaotic. It had been hit by the tornado. People were walking out of the building, cut and bloodied by flying glass. The Quecks went to plan B. The Murphys found them on a sidewalk near the hospital, loaded them into their pickup, and raced east.

Alli Hensley, a friend and co-worker of Abbey’s, was one of the people concerned about her ‘location.’ Abbey’s phone was still pinging from the middle of nowhere, and by that time, most everyone knew something bad had happened in and around Greenfield. Alli called Mel, who said that they were driving Abbey and the family to a hospital in Des Moines. Alli swung into action and called Earlham Rescue, then told Mel to head to the Earlham fire station. Jeff barreled into town escorted by the Earlham Police. Earlham Rescue was ready and treated Abbey right away. A Madison County ambulance transported her to Iowa Methodist in Des Moines.

Abbey was diagnosed with four fractured vertebrae in her back. She’ll need to wear a brace for a while but should be fine. Hudson had a bump on his head. Paul’s hand was a little banged up. While most of their possessions were either destroyed or damaged beyond repair, they were well aware that they could count themselves as lucky.

Eighty-seven years ago, Paul’s grandfather, Bob, was born in the house that has been reduced to matchsticks. A new barn and several sheds were destroyed. Three vehicles—one a brand-new pickup—were totaled. About 30 of the 100 head of the Queck’s cattle are dead. One very valuable Wagyu calf is at the vet with broken shoulders. Personal belongings and items of great sentimental value were scattered for miles.

But 18 hours after the tornado hit, the sun was shining brightly on a beautiful new day. By the time Paul and Abbey got to their property in the early afternoon, they were greeted by dozens of people working on cleaning up the mess and combing the destruction for anything of value. That morning, Earlham Schools put out a call for help. By 11:00 a.m. they were on the road with two busloads of faculty, staff, students, and others—over 60 people. Some of Paul’s friends from Truro, his hometown, were there with heavy equipment. New secondary principal Kristin Sheffield called her dad, who lives near Bedford, and he came up with a skid loader. Another friend hauled the Queck’s remaining cattle to another pasture. Abbey didn’t have her wedding ring on the day of the storm, and that was unusual. Somewhere in the twisted piles of debris, it was found. Paul laughed when he said that he hardly ever wears his ring, but it was found, too.

By late afternoon, the impromptu crew made a huge dent in the cleanup effort and, perhaps most importantly, uplifted the family and surrounded them with love. There are still hard times ahead for the Quecks as they recover from the disaster, but the healing has begun. In Iowa towns like Earlham, when one family hurts, we all hurt. By coming together as a community in tough times like these, we not only help heal the individuals within, but the whole, as well.

Abbey wrote a Facebook post later that evening that said, “We don’t even know where to start or how to thank everyone. We couldn’t be more grateful to have each other and our boys with us still. Thank you to everyone who has reached out, lent their helping hands, or dropped food off. This is so overwhelming, but it does help knowing how loved we are. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”