Oklahoma rallies after "roar of a mighty beast" At the corner of Telephone Street and Kings Manor, a dozen people sifted through the rubble of Mark Ellerd's home. Wires dangled from what had once been his garage and a brick wall covered one of the family cars. The building no longer had a roof, and most of the walls had collapsed, except for the bedroom closet in which Mr Ellerd hid with Molly, his cocker spaniel, while, as he says, "the huge roar of a mighty beast" tore his house apart around them. Mr Ellerd's home stood directly in the path of the massive tornado that ripped through Moore on Monday. Like many residents, he spent Tuesday with friends and family, picking up the pieces, while community members rolled past with offers of help, food and water. He had seen the devastation from the other side in 1999, when another large twister tore through Moore. "Then I was working to help people through their tragedy," he says. This time, it's my tragedy. The National Weather Service upgraded Monday's tornado to an EF-5, the highest on the enhanced Fujita scale, meaning it had winds of at least 200mph as it cut a swath 17 miles long and 1.3 miles wide through the outskirts of Oklahoma City. It killed at least 24 people, according to officials. President Barack Obama declared the tornado a major disaster and promised federal aid, saying the country would rally behind the affected communities. The devastation in Moore was extensive, with entire neighbourhoods reduced to debris: an endless sea of uprooted and splintered trees, busted plywood, twisted siding, the odd set of muddy Christmas decorations tumbling from an exposed attic. Rescue workers, many leading dogs, searched for survivors. "I stepped out and said to myself, "this is not my house." Bridget Rapreza Blake Haynes, 18, a high school senior, was in his school's locker room when he heard the tornado pass, "like a bunch of aeroplanes starting up." He drove his girlfriend to a relative's house and then set out to help where he could. A police officer enlisted his help in searching for victims. He and a group of men ended up finding two bodies, which they pulled from the rubble. "I joined the Navy a few months ago and I know there's a chance of seeing that stuff now," he says. But still I was in shock. Garrison Rapreza, 19, and his younger sister Bridget, 12, spent the storm in an underground shelter in their backyard. When they emerged, after just five to 10 minutes, they were shocked to find their home in pieces. The top floor had collapsed against the ground floor. "I stepped out and said to myself, "this is not my house,"" says Bridget. Up the block, Lynn Dennis picked through what remained of her home. She said she had a feeling of déjà vu after tornadoes blew through a nearby town on Sunday and there were warnings Monday morning for Moore. She brought with her a "tornado bag" containing boxes of irreplaceable family pictures and a binder with insurance inventory details. She has had one ready ever since her previous home was destroyed by a tornado in 2003. "The thing that makes it easier this time around is that my house isn't pancaked like some up the block - we can still salvage what's important," she said, including pictures and a grandfather clock her grandfather had built, which has now survived two tornadoes. "The rest of it . . . you learn it's just stuff," she says. It's just stuff.