Writing The Storm and the Tide was a deeply personal experience

We have stayed in frequent contact, talking and texting. We will see each other this week. Ashley Mims, the mother of Loryn Brown, is no longer an interview
Writing The Storm and the Tide was a deeply personal experience
Writing The Storm and the Tide was a deeply personal experience /

We have stayed in frequent contact, talking and texting. We will see each other this week. Ashley Mims, the mother of Loryn Brown, is no longer an interview subject or a character in a book; she’s as connected to me as my own family members.

It was a little over a year ago that Ashley led me on a heartrending tour through the darkest corridors of her memory. Sitting in a hotel room in Montgomery, Ala., not far from her home in tiny Wetumpka, we talked for hours about her beautiful daughter and the tornado that took her life. She was so courageously honest and forthcoming -- as were all of the main characters in The Storm and the Tide -- that it was difficult to stay composed as I took notes. Then, as I wrote the manuscript, I constantly went back to Ashley, asking her to clarify details and amplify different events, some of our conversations lasting as long as three hours.

Exclusive excerpt from The Storm and the Tide

Here’s one thing I’ve learned about the storm that shook the South on April 27, 2011:  It still swirls today, even inside of me. A thunderclap rattled me three weeks ago after I sent Ashley the following text: “The book is being excerpted in SI. Loryn is the focus.” 

I was jogging through the streets of my Birmingham neighborhood when I received her reply. Ashley’s words caused me stop, because they literally took my breath away: “Loryn always wanted to be in SI.”

This is my sixth book, and I can’t imagine I’ll ever write another one that is as freighted with as much raw emotion as The Storm and the Tide. When I was reporting the original magazine cover story two weeks after the tornado in the spring of 2011, I had a suspicion that I was about to produce a piece that had the potential to touch a lot of people. But then the magazine was published and I was overwhelmed by the response.

I heard from readers as far away as Japan (who told me they could relate to the people of Tuscaloosa because of the recent tsunami that had hit their country), Germany, Brazil and Canada. Alabama senator Jeff Sessions sent me a note of thanks, as did Nick Saban. More than once I was at a restaurant in Birmingham and, seconds after being introduced to someone as the “SI guy” who penned the tornado story, I had a stranger sobbing on my shoulder.

At the time I was an adjunct professor at the University of Alabama (I’m now a member of the full-time faculty in the journalism department.) None of my students were injured, but today many of them -- more than three years later -- are still haunted by nightmares of black twisters dropping from the skies like snakes. 

The tornado, I believe, had a lasting impact on Nick Saban. As I detail in the book, it softened his hard edges, rooted him in a community for the first time in his football life, and made it virtually inconceivable -- especially to his wife, Terry -- for him to retire anywhere other than Tuscaloosa. Would Saban have taken Texas' reported $100 million offer if the tornado had never blown a few blocks past his office on Bear Bryant Boulevard? We don’t know, but I do know that after the storm Saban hugged more grief-stricken folks over a 48-hour period than any person in the history of the state. This did something profound to him: It changed him.

T-Town is still rebuilding and the physical scars on the landscape won’t heal anytime soon. But the normal beats and rhythms of life have returned to Tuscaloosa. Football season is here and promise once again is in the August air.

Ashley will be closely watching the games. After the final whistle, win or lose, she’ll head to Loryn’s grave site. She’ll sit in front of her daughter’s tombstone. Then -- in a soft voice, a voice filled with love -- she’ll tell her baby girl all about the Crimson Tide.


Published
Lars Anderson
LARS ANDERSON

Senior Writer, Sports Illustrated Senior writer Lars Anderson is Sports Illustrated's main motor sports writer. He has profiled many of the sport's iconic figures, including cover stories on Dale Earnhardt Jr, Jimmie Johnson and Danica Patrick.  Anderson has covered multiple Daytona 500s and Indianapolis 500s and writes a twice-weekly racing column for SI.com. He also covers college football. Anderson penned a regional cover story on Alabama's defense in 2011 and has written features on Cam Newton at Auburn, coach Frank Solich at Ohio and the history of spring practice. The most important piece of his SI career, according to Anderson, was his 2011 cover story on the tornado that struck Tuscaloosa, Ala., and how sports was going to play a role in rebuilding that sports-obsessed city. Anderson is the author of five books: The First Star: Red Grange and the Barnstorming Tour that Launched the NFL (published by Random House in December 2009), Carlisle vs. Army (Random House, 2007), The All Americans (St. Martins, 2005), The Proving Ground: A Season on the Fringe in NFL Europe (St. Martins, 2001) and Pickup Artists (Verso, 1998).  Both Carlisle Vs. Army and The All Americans have been optioned for movies. Of Carlisle, Booklist, in a starred review, called the work "a great sports story, told with propulsive narrative drive and offering a fascinating look at multiple layers of American pop culture." Anderson is currently working on a sixth book, The Storm and The Tide, about the 2011 Tuscaloosa tornado and Alabama's national championship that season. It will be published by Time Home Entertainment Inc., a division of Time Inc., in August 2014.   A native of Lincoln, Neb., Anderson joined SI in 1994 following a short stint as a general assignment reporter at the Lincoln (Neb.) Journal Star. He received a B.A. from St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minn., and an M.S., from the Graduate School of Journalism at Columbia University. Anderson resides in Birmingham, Ala.