My head was on a swivel, standing at the sliding door into my backyard.

It was dark, except for lightning flashes. I slid the door open to listen. They say it sounds like a freight train coming.

I kept swinging my head back to the TV and a weather map with a large red square screaming TORNADO WARNING.

That red box was over our town. It felt like it was over our house. I was confused. I heard no sirens, but funnels are hard to see at night. The warning must have been based on radar. A twister had torn up the town of Lena, and bad stuff was happening up north.

My wife began to gather items for a rush to our basement. I stood at the patio door, unconvinced. It was too calm for a raging storm. I kept listening ... and waiting. I told myself hail would be a good clue.

That looming red box was hard to ignore. So I gave in and also began collecting items. This wasn’t the first time we did a quick pack. And yet, a couple of facts hit home.

First ... we had no plan, other than to get all bodies, including the dog, into the basement. No designated spot in the basement. The dog was waiting at the stairs. Did he know something I didn’t know?

Second ... yes, we needed some essentials, but we grabbed whatever came to mind. There was no list. I still don’t have one. This attitude strengthens the argument that people tend to think bad stuff will never happen to them.

The “warning” was lifted soon after. We were lucky. How many times have we said that over the years? At least 14 tornadoes were reported that Friday night, the strongest was an EF2 that hit Lena with a peak of 130 mph wind and a width up to 750 yards traveling 8.5 miles. There was no loss of life or serious injury, but plenty of damage.

My wife posted about our experience, but focused on what we really need to think about.

“I find it interesting the things I take down to the basement,” she said. “My wedding rings, the dog’s leash and my passport. Lonny wisely grabs shoes and a raincoat! Smart hubby. So I have shoes and a coat now, too. Also, my year’s supply of contact lenses and my glasses. … Stay safe, everyone!”

Into a small bag I also tossed a flashlight, my wallet, keys to the truck and reading glasses. It is interesting the things that pop into your head during a quick pack. My wife’s Facebook post prompted some good advice.

Linda said: “Car keys in case it survives, important papers, and purse and cash in case ATM don’t work and even lose power.”

Andrea said: “The family Bible, two rings from my great grandmother, original photos from the 1800s and 1900s ... family ashes. My 7-year-old? A million stuffed animals came to the basement.”

And Denise pitched: “I grab several changes of clothes with me as I hate seeing people in their underwear with a blanket over their shoulders on the TV.”

You could turn this into a party game: “You have 60 seconds to list what you would take in your basement during a tornado warning.” It comes down to the practical versus the emotional. And time. It would have been wiser to just pack my bag and go low. But I fight the flight even though I know what can happen.

My sister lost her house in the 1990 Plainfield tornado. All that was left was some bathroom plumbing ... and the basement. The basement that sheltered and protected her two children and some friends.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter what you pack. With seconds to spare, her kids took to safety what mattered most. Themselves.

• Lonny Cain, retired managing editor of The Times in Ottawa, also was a reporter for The Herald-News in Joliet in the 1970s. His PaperWork email is lonnyjcain@gmail.com. Or mail the NewsTribune, 426 Second St., La Salle IL 61301.