Good afternoon dear friends. This one is an awesome angel miracle. I think you guys will enjoy it. Lots of love, light and hugs. &, Uma     Rescue In Nashville Weatherwise, it had been a difficult May 1995 in Tennessee. Winds, flash flooding, and strong thunderstorms had already pummeled many parts of the state, and as May 18 dawned, weary residents braced for more of the same. By 8:30 A.M. in Memphis, gales had pushed a trampoline down the middle of a street, and blown down several tents in an outdoor cooking contest. The city of Linden began closing roads because of flooding. In White Bluff, falling trees crushed a house; a Newcastle trailer tipped over. But in Hendersonville, a Nashville suburb, Jan Neve noticed only a drizzly rain as she left for her job as office manager at Haverty's Furniture store. "I called to my husband, 'I'll be home tonight!' as I left," Jan recalls. "But we never really know, do we("Around noon, a storm developed. From her office in the back of Haverty's, Jan watched it for a while through the large front display windows. The rain seemed odd, with a muddy sort of consistency, and she could hear the wind rising. Maybe she shouldn't go out for lunch. Two young co-workers passed her on their way to the break room. Suddenly the lights went out. Startled, both young women screamed. "Don't worry-it's okay," Jan reassured them. She got up, went to her office door, and, her right hand on the doorframe, leaned out. The break room had no windows, but she could still see into the darkened showroom, where customers were cautiously making their way to the front door. Rain pounded on the plate glass storefront, and the sky looked dark and ominous. The lights came on again for a few seconds, flickered, and went off. Then, incredibly, the front of the store collapsed. "It was shocking, unbelievable," Jan says. "No one knew what was happening, had a jet plane crashed into our building? Was it an earthquake? We later learned that a tornado had touched down, and as the wind hit our building, which is on top of a hill, pieces of the front windows sailed through the air like Frisbees." The deadly fragments bounced off walls, fell on screaming customers, and shattered into tiny pieces. The roof peeled away as five airconditioning units crashed to the showroom below. Walls buckled, huge holes appeared in the ceiling. It was then that Jan felt the pain. Dazed by the scene unfolding before her, Jan hadn't immediately realized that her right hand had been pinned to the wall as her office door and doorframe gave way. Now, although she could not see much in the semidarkness, her hand felt as though it were being fried in a hot skillet of grease. "Oh, God, help me .... " Somehow she managed to open the door with her left hand, and pull her right one free. Horrified, she looked at it. "I knew I was in trouble," Jan says. "The tendons were exposed, muscles hanging out, fingers going in all directions .... It had almost been severed. Blood was pouring from an artery, and I realized that ifI did not get help immediately, I would probably bleed to death." But the world was still whirling around her, customers screaming, plaster and glass falling .... Jan dived under her desk for shelter while she tried to think of what to do. She would call 911 immediately. She dialed awkwardly with her left hand. But the telephone was dead. The wind was quieting now, and Jan grabbed her mangled right hand with her left and ran for the front door. "I stepped over crying people, fell over tables, broken furniture, and debris. My only coherent thought was to get to the parking lot, get into my car, and drive to the hospital," Jan recalls. But could she make it while losing all this blood? As she stumbled through the front door, she gasped at the devastation in front of her. Uprooted trees, electric wires, and light poles lay on the ground, fire racing up and down their length. Buildings were half-gone, and the street was filled with overturned cars and debris. Nothing was moving in any direction. But she had to get to the hospital! Frantic, Jan raced for the parking lot. A co-worker followed her, realizing Jan was probably half-mad with shock. "Jan, stop!" he cried. "We can't get out of the lot! Look!" He was right, Jan realized, as she came to a halt, breathless and terrified. Trees and live power lines lay on top of almost every car in the lot, blocking the nearest exit. Fires were starting, and gas tank explosions would soon follow. She was going to die here, Jan realized. Help couldn't get to her, and she couldn't get to it. Desperate, she turned around-and saw Robert Morgan in his black pickup truck.  Robert Morgan had been at Haverty's Furniture store the previous day, checking on a job. His company had built a nine-thousandsquare-foot addition to the store, and where the two structures were joined, water had started to leak when it rained. Robert had assumed the problem was fixed yesterday, but this morning from his office in Cookville, he had talked to the Haverty building engineer. Although there was only a slight drizzle in Nashville at that time, the engineer had reported that four small leaks had just sprung. It didn't sound like much of an emergency, Robert mused as he left his office. Right now the sun was shining, and he was scheduled for a job in Crossville, in the opposite direction. "But as I got into my truck, on an odd impulse, I turned west toward Nashville instead," he explains. As Robert drove down Interstate 40, the sun faded and he felt wind rising behind him. Gusts became closer, stronger. Rain began. What a day this was turning out to be, Robert thought, regretting his decision. As he approached the hill where Haverty's stood, wind shook his truck. "Things started flying through the air, and cars pulled off the road, but for some reason I just kept driving," he recalls. At one point he looked with disbelief at the rain. It was pelting the terrain on either side of him, but there seemed to be no drops hitting his truck. Almost as ifhe were wrapped in a protective cocoon ... But that was crazy. Then, as he pulled into Haverty's parking lot, the tornado struck, exploding the world around him. And he saw Jan running out of the store, a trail of blood behind her. Jan stumbled up to the truck. This stranger was her only hope now. "Sir, would you please take me to the hospital?" she asked. ''I'm bleeding to death." "Yes, ma'am," Robert answered calmly, although his heart was racing at the scene around him. "But I'm not from around here. You'll have to tell me the way." "I will." Jan climbed into the truck, still clutching her wrist. Blood saturated the front of her blouse, and streamed down both her arms. She was beginning to feel faint, and the pain was almost unbearable. And how would they even make it out of the parking lot? Robert headed in one direction, but a downed tree forced him to stop. Backing up, he turned, but debris blocked his path. Suddenly a huge flaming electric wire fell toward them. It was going to hit the truck! "Look out!" Jan screamed. Astounded, Robert watched the line stop, until his truck passed underneath it. As he looked back in the rearview mirror, he saw the line resume its downward direction and hit the ground in a shower of sparks. Then, mysteriously, the other exit seemed to open up. Robert sped through it, and down the street. Here again were downed trees, live power wires, an auto dealership with hundreds of damaged cars, dazed and weeping people surveying the wreckage. Nothing was moving-except their truck. Robert held his vehicle on the road with one hand, and attempted to take off his belt with the other. Jan was very pale, he noticed, and if she fainted, he would not know how to find the hospital. "Here!" He thrust his belt at her, shouting to keep her awake. "Wind it around your arm. Make a tourniquet. Pull it, pull it!" She did what he said. He was kind, protective, although she knew he must be as traumatized by all of this as she. Maybe he was an angel, she mused dreamily, sent just when she most needed one. She had always loved angels .... "Are we almost there?" Robert demanded. He had to keep this woman alert!  "Oh no," Jan murmured. She was growing more light-headed with every mile. "There's still a long way to go .... " Robert fumbled for his cellular phone and dialed 911. "Where are you?" the dispatcher asked. "Where are we, ma'am?" Robert asked Jan. "On Galatan Road," she murmured. She could see an ambulance coming toward them, the only moving vehicle in sight. But it passed quickly, its sirens shrieking. "Y ou're headed toward Hendersonville Hospital-just keep going," the dispatcher reassured him. Robert obeyed. "There was nothing on the road but us," he says. "I realized that the tornado was about five hundred yards in front of us, because telephone poles ahead kept parting and falling, like a giant invisible hand pushing everything over. Live wires sparked, and stuff was flying everywhere, but it all kept missing the truck." Robert turned on the radio and heard that the tornado was traveling at about forty-five miles an hour. "Naturally I didn't want to catch up to it," he says, "so I drove about thirty miles per hour, slower than I wanted to go, but probably safer for us." The wind continued to howl, rocking the truck, and suddenly a huge piece of wallboard with hundreds of nails in it sailed across the road into their path. He was going to hit it! Seconds later, the left side of his truck went right over the nails. Robert gripped the steering wheel, waiting for the blowouts. But nothing happened. Jan was almost unconscious now. How was he going to find the hospital without her? And yet Robert knew he was not the only one looking out for Jan. "It was," he says, "as if we had an unseen hand over us. Something much bigger was in charge." And yes! Up ahead loomed Hendersonville Hospital. He sped into the parking lot. They had made it. A visiting hand surgeon was just finishing an operation at the hospital, so Jan was given blood and immediately whisked away. Robert hung around the emergency waiting room for a while, to see if there was anything else he could do. None of the hospital's regular phones were working (Robert later learned that the cellular tower was also down), so he asked if anyone would like to use his. "Could I check on my children?" one woman asked. "Sure." Robert gave her his phone. But her call would not go through, and she handed it back. On Robert's phone, the last call is automatically saved, and if the "Send" button is pushed, it redials the number. "For some reason, I pushed the 'Send' button-and her call went through," Robert recalls. "I handed the phone back to her so she could talk to her children." Three different people attempted to use Robert's phone during the next half hour. None of the calls would go through. But each time Robert pushed "Send," all the numbers connected. He made calls, too, to his wife, to Cookville, the furniture store, even Atlanta. The phone worked only for him. At another point a physician asked Robert where he had come from, and how long it had taken him to get Jan to the hospital. When Robert described the route and the distance, several hospital personnel told him he must be mistaken. "On a good day, moving at a brisk clip, that drive would take about a half hour," they all agreed. Robert knew he had driven slowly so that he would not catch up with the tornado. He also knew that he had picked Jan up at 12:30, just a few moments after the tornado had touched down. How, then, had Jan been admitted to the hospital at precisely 12:45? "Impossible," everyone agreed. But there was no doubt at all that Robert was a hero. For during that critical fifteen minutes, Jan's blood pressure had dropped dramatically, and she had lost at least two units of blood. It seems certain that without him, she would have quickly died. Eventually someone returned Robert's belt, and he left to salvage what he could of his schedule. Only the next day did he drive his truck back to Cookville, and take it in to have the blood cleaned up. Safe in the shop and no longer needed, his two left tires finally collapsedfrom those huge, clearly visible punctures that the nails had made many miles ago. Remarkably, although at least twenty tornados were sighted in the state, and property damage was extensive, there were no storm-related fatalities in Nashville on May 18. And after extensive surgery,Jan Neve is recovering well, and still in awe of what God did for her. "I think'in this entire universe, me?' " she says. "But God had everything in place--the hand specialist right on the scene, the protection along the way, and most of all, Robert Morgan, who hadn't even planned to be in Nashville that day. Robert will always be an angel to me." "People who know me will tell you I'm no angel." Robert smiles ruefully. "But the Lord did have His hand on us." And in case there was any lingering doubt, He left them yet another signal the day after the tornado. Officials from Haverty's home office had come to inspect the damage, and just outside the store, they followed a trail of Jan's blood to the exact spot where Robert had parked his truck. Lying on the ground they found a piece of metal the wind had embedded in some plywood. The metal was formed in the shape of a cross.