Harley looked up as his last stone skipped across the water. A massive, boiling cloud darkened the horizon. He ran to the house to warn his family. He helped scoop up laundry, rugs and chairs and throw them into the house in awkward bundles. With the last load in his arms Harley turned back to the house, but now the sky was almost coal black. He was only a few feet from the porch yet had to fall to his hands and knees and crawl before he could find the house. To many who stood in the clear air watching the billowing wave approach, the wrath of God was at hand. The cold boil of dust more than 7,000 feet high rolled over them, a dry tidal wave engulfing everything in its path. Escape was impossible.
	Art Leonard, on his way to work, had to inch his way to his father's store. Drivers stuck in the storm put on their headlights, but it didn't do much good. Neighbors out for a Sunday drive crashed into one another. Drivers had another problem, too. The static electricity caused by millions of dirt particles rubbing together shorted out ignitions. It also jammed radio broadcasts and created an eerie outline along the metal edges of windmill blades and fences. When he looked out the window Harley was struck by what he saw -- balls of electricity dancing along the barbed wire.