They had to see for themselves. At the first sign of trees snapped like matchsticks, the gawkers slammed on their brakes along Interstate 71. Traffic on both sides of the highway slowed to a crawl Sunday afternoon. A funnel cloud strikes once and moves on. Tornadoes don't keep returning to batter the same house and the same family over and over.
Gawkers never let up.
They show no sense or sensitivity. Never offering to help, they hurt by stopping and staring at the devastation, mouths agape and stares blank, just like their minds. Looters steal things. They sneak in and cart off worldly goods from homes already humiliated by a tornado's fury. Gawkers rob disaster victims of something they cannot replace, their dignity.