“Yep, it hit. We don’t have a house anymore.”
Kendahl Garcia’s voice broke as she spoke those words into her phone on March 10, standing at the basement door of her Aroma Park home, staring at the wreckage of everything she owned. The roof was gone. The walls had collapsed. Daylight poured through spaces that should have been solid.
Minutes earlier, she, her 25-year-old nephew Anthony Haddon, two dogs, and three cats had huddled under a mattress in a concrete storage room no bigger than a closet while a tornado tore the house apart around them.
The Garcias’ survival came down to one decision: Kendahl’s insistence on preparation. While her husband teased her about being “over-the-top,” she’d spent the day before the storm gathering precious items — her parents’ urns, supplies, water, dog food — and moving them to the basement. That small act of vigilance, combined with a concrete storage room and quick thinking, kept her family alive. Now, as they face rebuilding, her story is a stark reminder: when tornado season hits, hesitation kills.
“When all the weather channels were saying days earlier it would be in this area, I was already planning ahead,” Kendahl said.
“I’ve always been petrified of storms, tornadoes,” she added.
Kendahl works as a nurse from home, so she asked her nephew to bring precious items, like her parents’ urns, their dog’s cremains, supplies like flashlights, bottles of water, dog food, and leashes to the basement. Her nephew was just going to bring flip-flops to the basement, but she made him bring shoes.
“Anything I could think of throughout the day, I said to bring down,” Kendahl added.
She and her nephew brought the cats and two dogs down into the basement when the emergency alerts went off, seeking refuge in a below-grade storage room at the corner of the home, with two concrete foundation walls.
“Jesse called me, and I could hear it hailing. The alerts went off, and I said gotta go,” Kendahl said. Then the internet and power went out.
“At first, I was like, it’s not actually going to hit us,” Kendahl said.
Then the tornado came.
“Our ears popped and, at that point, I knew. You could just hear the house being destroyed from the noise,” Kendahl said.
The wall in the storage room had a shelving unit and, at times, she was worried it would crash down on them. They had an old twin mattress they were storing in the basement — they pulled it over themselves and their pets, in close, for safety.
When it was over, she knew there was damage but was unsure how much. She said she felt rainwater dripping down her back but, at that point, she figured it was just from a broken window or roof leak.
“Still, I thought, it couldn’t be that bad,” Kendahl said.
She recorded her experience as she walked up the stairs to see what damage lay ahead.
The smoke detectors’ alarms were chirping, and the stairs were wet with rain as drops fell from the sky directly into the basement. Chunks of insulation and debris were scattered across the floor.
When she panned side-to-side, daylight shone where there otherwise would’ve been a wall and a roof.
Once she managed to wedge the door open, she was overcome with emotion.
The curtain of Jesse’s son’s bedroom hangs high amidst sheared off branches in a nearby treeline. He wasn’t at home at the time of the storm.
“It’s just surreal,” Kendahl said, adding that even just looking at pictures of the storm damage in her home doesn’t register. Each visit she’s made in the days past takes her breath away, she said.
“We have a bar in front of the basement stairs, and it didn’t look bad. I turned to my left, the roof was gone, broken glass, it was all gone. The kitchen walls had fallen in,” she said of the devastating sight.
Their home looked like someone had picked it up, violently shook it and thrown it back down. Structural beams were in piles next to family pictures that once hung on the wall.
Mud, water, insulation, and drywall were all mixed together and coated every surface. In the front yard, a mature tree, at least 50 years old, was completely uprooted. A cell tower was crumpled over the side of their home. Their camper was flipped over, with a shed from the backyard on top of it.
Kendahl called her husband Jesse, who was already trying to make his way back home through downed power lines and debris-crossed roads after hearing the tornado touched down in Aroma Park.
He could only get within about two miles of their home before he had to get out and walk.
As he tried to make his way back home to his family, Kendahl raced across the street to check on her neighbors. They were thankfully OK. After that, they tried to see what they could save, while waiting for Jesse to arrive.
“We started grabbing anything we could, and then we began realizing our clothes are full of fiberglass and insulation, we can’t just throw them in the wash and put them on,” she said.
The urns and other precious items they brought to the basement for safety ahead of time were OK, but almost everything else was a total loss.
Remarkably, some items survived — signs of hope, strength, and a sense that they had a lot of people looking out for them.
A framed photo of Jesse’s late mother remained on the wall next to the fireplace — but a piece of wall art, just inches away, had fallen. A nearby mantle shelf had every item lifted and thrown to the ground by the wind.
Jesse’s mom had given him a crucifix, which he kept on their bedroom dresser. Again, items just steps away were gone, but the crucifix remained.
Kendahl’s car, which gave them a way to safety, was untouched in the garage, along with their American flag that was still hanging from the bracket on what was left of the garage wall.
They were able to get their pets into the car and out of the area, driving off the roads to avoid tree limbs and downed power lines.
The area was unrecognizable, and all homes in their neighborhood had some damage. Several, like the Garcias’ home, were completely taken out by the storm.
“We did find a few doors further down, there was a gentleman stuck on his basement stairs, so we went in there and got him up off the ground, making sure he was OK and went on our way,” Kendahl said.
Once out of the immediate area, they sought refuge at MainStay Suites in Bourbonnais, where the hotel staff was incredibly gracious.
The cleanup process has begun, and the outpouring of support has been humbling, the Garcias remarked.
They weren’t sure where they would stay while they rebuilt, but a friend, who now lives out of state, offered them their fully furnished Wilmington-area home while they get on their feet.
“Just amazing generosity, it’s just been insane,” Kendahl said.
She talked about how the community came together, people she didn’t even know dropping off cases of Gatorade, water, hot meals, toiletries, and sandwiches, as they worked to sift through and clean up the wreckage.
“We are so fortunate, and the outreach and support are incredible,” she said, acknowledging the extreme outpouring of help.
Their friends Jamie and Laura immediately set up a GoFundMe for them, which at first they didn’t want to accept, but soon came to the realization the only way they’ll get through it is with some help.
Though Kendahl and her nephew physically made it out unscathed, their home is destroyed, and the event has forever changed them.
“Last night, when the wind and the rain started, I started shaking and crying. Jesse was showing me the radar, see, it’s green, it’s ok, trying to reassure me. I had a nightmare last night about trying to get the animals in the basement,” she said, getting choked up.
They’re not sure how long it will take to rebuild, as they’ve just begun the process with insurance, which sent an adjuster out right away. It was sent to large loss claims, and they’re working through that process.
But the generosity they’ve experienced is making it a little easier.
“It’s unbelievable, very humbling,” she said.
Garcia said they, thankfully, haven’t seen any looting, but repair businesses calling in a time when they are so vulnerable is frustrating.
“We have had roofing people and tree people just soliciting, and it’s frustrating. I don’t even know how they got our number. They call to say we want to see your roof, well, we don’t have a roof. Stop, just stop,” Garcia said.
With the severe weather season ramping up, Garcia has a message.
“Don’t let your guard down. I think of how many times we had false alarms… I’m just so glad I didn’t let my guard down. I never will again, better safe than sorry” — to the very end, after a brief transition about what’s next for the Garcias.
In the basement of what used to be their home, the concrete walls that saved their lives still stand. Everything else is gone. But Kendahl Garcia’s message is clear: when the sirens sound, don’t hesitate. The difference between a close call and a tragedy is often just one decision made in advance.
Those wishing to make contributions to their GoFundMe, can do so by visiting: https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-for-jesse-kendahl-after-tornado.
