Pinkstaff Tornado February 25th 1956

Seventy years ago February 25 marks the anniversary of the Pinkstaff Tornado. This week we will share some first- hand accounts from residents who lived through that awful night.

Early on Saturday, February 25, 1956, a tornado developed when a cold front met an unusually warm air current coming from the Gulf of Mexico. In Lawrenceville, the barometer read 29 inches at midnight Friday, following a gradual decline throughout the day. At that time, the temperature was 62°F. The Scott Air Force Base near Belleville recorded wind speeds reaching 80 mph that night.

The tornado hit at 2:30 a.m. Saturday, bringing rain and large hail—some as big as doorknobs. Calvin Stout found one measuring 7 inches in diameter.

The twister struck first at Millerville damaging the property of Archie McAdow, Harry McCullough, Paul Stout and the King farm all near Muddy Creek, then sped northwest to Pinkstaff. 

The town of Pinkstaff located about four miles north of Lawrenceville was virtually wiped off the map. Buildings were destroyed. Power and phone lines were down. Trees were uprooted and thrown across streets. Dozens of outbuildings were destroyed. Over a million and a half dollars of property loss occurred by the hit and miss path of the tornado. Remarkably, there were no fatalities.

Diane Stallard Mullins remembers it well.

     On a Friday evening, February 24^th 1956 my mom took my brother, sister and me to see a movie in Lawrenceville. When we came out of the show we talked about how warm, quiet and eerie it was.

     In the early morning hours my sisters and I woke up to rain coming in on us because the roof had blown off our house. My sister started to get up and I said lie still mom will be here in a minute. About that time she was standing by our bed crying.

     My dad had gotten up a little earlier and he was looking out the back door and he said the light in the smoke house came on (which was just a few feet away) and it blew away. He tried to get back to mom but he couldn’t get any further than the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. He put his arms across the doorway to keep from being blown away.

     There was seven of us living there. Five kids and my mom and dad. We sat in the car until daylight and Jim Rife came and got us and took us to my grandparents (Fred Stallards) on the next road to the north. I don’t know how he got through because there was electric lines, trees, and debris everywhere.

     My dad and brother found a house for us to rent on the prairie that day. It took several trips in a pick up to get all our belongings there because there was so many sightseers out.

     My brother Francis told us younger kids if he ever heard of us being ambulance, fire, or tornado chasers he would spank us and I think he meant it, and I never have.

     The roof was all gone and the front wall was all gone. The barn, chicken house, pig pen, out house, and the smoke house were gone. Three walls of the house were the only things standing.

     Later that day mom was in the house looking for things that were any good and some woman was pilfering through our stuff and she said, “those poor people” and mom said “I’m those poor people.”

     We were able to spend that night in the rental house and we was there six weeks while they rebuilt our house.

     My mom was really worried about my sister Alice and her family in Lawrenceville because we didn’t have phones to call. But come to find out they were safe and sound and didn’t know anything about it.

     Our neighbors, Laurel Calvert and Dan Rudesil’s house was tore up bad enough they built new houses. February 25^th of 1956 was my brother’s 26^th birthday and he had bought a new Buick for his birthday and a tree fell on it and did some damage.

     None of us was injured except my dad had a blood shot eye and my mom and dad’s legs were swollen and sore from the pressure.

Stallard House above #1 on map

That night as told by Sally and Danny Rudesill: It all started out as a warmer than usual February night when I was five years old. Dad was working at the Texaco refinery that night. Mom went downstairs to unplug the radio and TV because it was a stormy night. My brother and I shared a bedroom upstairs in the front of the house. Mom thought she would check on us before going back to bed. As she was about to enter our room the door slammed shut in her face. That is when the tornado hit.

 I firmly believe my mother was saved from that closed door. I guess during that time, I woke up and saw stuff flying over me (it must have been the roof coming apart). I thought I was dreaming at first but then realized it was real. I just covered up my head and waited. Mom was finally able to get into the room and she carried me while Danny, my brother, walked barefooted to the bathroom because it was the only room with four walls. Our neighbor, Sid Patton, came over and yelled for us to come out. He couldn't come in because the second story was very unsteady. After the storm, we went to his house across the field. The only damage he had to his house was the picture window blown out.

When Dad learned about the tornado, he left work and had to travel a roundabout way to get to our house because power lines were across our road. The next morning, when we could see the damage, our house's walls and roof had exploded out. The freestanding garage had blown away and was found years later. The barn had collapsed. Two or three days later, Danny was taken to the doctor because he had a piece of glass, an inch long, in his thigh. It was very strange because there was nothing but a small welt in that area.

A funny story my family tells is that my dad had an expensive Stetson hat sitting on one end of their dresser and Mom's little "dime store" hat sat on the other side. Of course, Dad's hat blew away and Mom's hat didn’t move.

Rudesill Home #2 on map