Driving up from London’s Victoria Station with my niece, Jessica, having just arrived in England from the States it began to rain. Serious pelting rain, quite different from the usual London squall. Suddenly a short way in front of us there was a violent blinding flash of lightning and, when our vision cleared, we could see what looked to me like the formation of a tornado — except London is not a city given to tornadoes. In 1958, pretty much to the day, they had had one, but nothing since. Yet, there it was. By the time we got to Jessica’s flat near Kensell Green, the rain had let up but we could hear sirens roaring from every direction. We turned on the television and heard the BBC announcer saying that just a couple of blocks away a tornado had touched down, and destroyed, with the efficiency of a massive bomb, about 70 houses. The phone rang and it was Jessica’s friend. Her windows had been blown out, were she, and her new baby, all right? Walking around to the area takes perhaps two minutes, and the […]