Standing with Laurel County After an EF4 Tornado

The weather warnings trickled in throughout the week.

As the weekend approached, the possibility edged toward near certainty.

By Friday, May 16, Chantz McPeek and the rest of the Laurel County Fire Department were doing what firefighters do: preparing for the worst. As a volunteer department, firefighters staged at their stations, checked equipment, and ensured personnel stood ready to respond at a moment's notice.

But "volunteer" in Laurel County doesn't mean "inexperienced." Many, including McPeek — a state fire training coordinator — work as career firefighters or state-level instructors by day, bringing a deep well of professionalism to their community.

"We'd been hearing that the potential for it to be extremely dangerous was very high," recalls McPeek, the department's Chairman of the Board.

He and others with families made their own preparations at home, hoping for the best, fearing the worst.

Within hours, nothing in this rural region of south-central Kentucky would be the same. A violent EF4 tornado would bring everything crashing down, ultimately bringing Fire Department Coffee and our Rescue-1 relief truck to their doorstep.

We built the truck for this — supporting communities and first responders during disaster response. Six months ago, we were there. As it so often happens, we saw the best of the fire service and the best of humanity.

Even during the darkest times. Even after losing one of their own.

The Storm

Hours after nightfall on that Friday evening, the dizzying cyclone began tearing through the counties to the west of London, Kentucky, where McPeek huddled with his family.

"About 11 o'clock, we were hearing that things were headed toward Russell County, Pulaski County,” he said. “Everything really started to get hairy about quarter after 11."

McPeek made the quick decision to move his wife and kids down the road to his father-in-law’s home and his sturdy, sheltered basement. From there, McPeek monitored the radio, waiting for the crackle that broke the silence. Hanging on every word.

"We were hoping and praying it was going to let up before it got there," he said. "Unfortunately, that didn't happen."

Instead, the tornado gained momentum. As it bore down on London, the first dispatch came in: a fire alarm. McPeek keyed his radio, trying to warn the crew to seek shelter, not to roll out. The tornado spun right on top of them.

Before they could even process the warning, a different voice cut through the static. It belonged to one of their own, a firefighter who lived in the Sunshine Hill subdivision.

"He yelled that the tornado had hit. Things were really bad, and the roof was off of his house,” McPeek said. “He told the 911 center to do an all-call. It was that bad."

McPeek kissed his family goodbye. He wouldn't see them again until daylight.

‘Oh, No, This is Real, Real Bad’

The next 60 minutes passed in what felt like a few fuzzy seconds. A blur.

An estimated 150 responders from across the region made their way toward the call, deploying in darkness into the devastation. Yet even with more manpower, resources were stretched impossibly thin.

"Radio traffic was just an absolute nightmare," McPeek said. "Everywhere we went, just walking down the road, we found people trapped and stuck and needing help."

They did the only thing they could — they pushed forward, pulling and praying, and doing everything possible to assist. 

In the chaos, the department couldn't reach one of its own: Major Les Leatherman. His home was near that first fire alarm call. They assumed he got busy, that his radio had been lost. They kept working.

"As time went on, I began to yell on the radio to check on Les," McPeek says. "When we did make it to Les's home, his home wasn't there. Les didn't make it."

In all, the tornado had claimed 20 lives. The first responders didn’t miss anyone. Those trapped, those injured, those whose lives were lost — the crews found and accounted for all of them.

In that moment of clarity, McPeek and his team held onto one small, profound mercy.

"The one thing that really stood out was that there were no kids or infants that were killed, or even injured,” he said. “And I'm thankful for that."

‘I Need You to Come Now’

The Laurel County Fire Department now grieved an on-duty death while simultaneously managing a catastrophic disaster response.

Still, firefighters do what firefighters do. They helped anyone and everyone.

In the days that followed, the fire station became a "beacon of hope," a distribution center for the community.

But McPeek felt a heavy burden to do more.

He remembered seeing the Fire Department Coffee Rescue-1 truck at a firefighting conference. On Sunday evening, he made a call.

They left a short, direct voicemail.

"Our city's been hit with an EF4 tornado. I need you to come to Laurel County, and I need you to come now, if you can. Please give me a call.'"

Early the next morning, his phone rang. It was Randy James from Fire Department Coffee.

As McPeek recalls, the answer was simple: "Hey, this is Randy from Fire Department Coffee. Got your message. Don't really have any questions. You were very clear in what you needed, where you needed it, and when you needed it. The guys will be getting on the road in about six hours."

Rescue-1 rolled into Laurel County on Monday evening. The crew immediately set up, first at the fire station and then in the heart of the devastation in Sunshine Hill.

They served coffee, but they delivered much more.

"People were coming in flocks," McPeek said.

The FDC team handed out gloves, hats, and T-shirts — small comforts that made a big impact.

The FDC crew didn't just stay for a day or two. They stayed for over a week. They stood side-by-side with the Laurel County firefighters, attended Major Leatherman's funeral, and served coffee at the dinner afterward.

"I can't even begin to tell you how much we appreciated them," McPeek said. "I mean, it was incredible."

Six Months Later: The Resilient Spirit

Today, six months later, Laurel County is rebuilding.

"Homes are being rebuilt,” McPeek said. “People are moving back into their homes.”

As the holidays approach, they are collecting Christmas trees and ornaments for families who lost everything. It’s another reminder of how neighbors have come together to help their own.

Reflecting on the night of the storm, McPeek is clear about what his department stands for.

"You never really know how you’ll react until you get punched in the mouth,” he said. “When that happens, you've got two options: You can lie down and take it, or you can get up, push through, and do what you're trained to do. And that's exactly what the Laurel County Fire Department did. They stood up, and they pushed forward, and they never looked back. And I'm very proud to be a part of it."