On the exterior wall of Dilmus's house, facing the street, were relief sculptures of the sun and moon, each painted bright yellow and embellished with cartoon faces that smiled down on the ominous-looking devil. Beyond the ragged hedge that bordered the street and supported by a metal framework was a glass-paneled box in which was displayed a partially unlaced leather shoe. MAY 31, 1973. Me and another guy was out walkin' through the rubble after it hit, and we ran up on this shoe. I called attention to it.
Tornadoes are very funny things, like a whirlwind.
Like if a tornado picked up something in my yard, it's liable to carry it all the way across the Oconee River before it puts it back down. They said the tornado originated over somewhere by Louisiana, near the Gulf, and worked its way through space all the way over here to Athens. And I decided to take it home with me. So I took that shoe home went downtown and bought some glass and a glass cutter and made me a case for it. I put it out by the street, and I written on the case at that time the date that tornado brought that shoe.