Tommy Quinn leans forward, perched on the edge of a recliner that has been positioned to face the TV in a small but cozy living room with non-insulated, plywood walls.

The 22-year-old’s hands are clasped together, but his words come easily, relaxed, and he smiles as he speaks.

He’s anything but ashamed of the storage unit his family now calls home.

“Once you fix it up right, it’s really not that much different than a single-wide trailer if you think about it,” he shrugged.

The storage unit he shares with his mother and father is the first permanent residence he’s known since their Hackleburg home was destroyed in the April 27 tornado.

Above the oven, which sits directly across from the couch, hangs a hand-drawn photo of the three-bedroom house the family occupied before the storm.

Tommy gestures to a gravel area outside the window to show the place where the house stood.

Unlike his old home, the storage unit is not large enough for separate bedrooms. To compensate, Tommy has fashioned a makeshift bedroom using a strip of plaid fabric that attaches to the two outside walls near his bunk, which he reaches by climbing a wooden ladder that stands to the right of the couch and to the left of the kitchen sink.

The 2- to 3-foot-wide piece of material is all it takes to cover the entrance to his sleeping area, top to bottom.

His father, Barry, and mother, Ruth Ann, sleep about 10 feet across from him in another nook in the top part of the unit.

“We used the last bit of (Federal Emergency Management Agency) money we got to buy this place,” Barry said. “We used the rest of our rental assistance to get this ready to live in, hoping we’d eventually be able to get a house.

“We used what money the Salvation Army had left to give us to build a bathroom.”

Funds ran out before the bathroom was completed, however, and there’s no promise of more financial help to come.

“There’s no door, but that’s not so bad,” Ruth Ann said of the bathroom. Instead, a curtain hangs in front of the entrance.

The family doesn’t complain much — they’re just happy to have a home — but there are things they wish were different.

For example, Tommy said, sometimes, since the building isn’t insulated, it can get cold.

“It’s also a little crowded,” he said, though the Quinns say they all get along well.

Still, he admitted, he gets discouraged occasionally, especially when he sees other families moving into rebuilt homes. But the Quinns are working to stay patient.

“It’s hard looking around (where I grew up) and nothing that was here is here anymore,” Tommy said. “Every little house, every little tree. I look at the town and remember how it used to be.”

Right after the tornado, the family had to move around a lot, Tommy said. First, they went to stay with relatives for a couple of days in Hamilton. Then they went to a friend’s empty apartment in Belmont, Miss.

Eventually, though, they knew they had to get back to Hackleburg to live on their own land.

“I’ve never owned anything, personally,” Barry said as he stood in the center of the storage unit, one arm draped over a rung of the ladder as he leaned against the sink. It’s the only area in the storage unit where he can stand entirely upright; he’s more than 6 feet tall and the unit’s ceiling slopes upward, like a dome.

“I’ve got property here, though,” he said. “It’s something I can leave to my kids. That’s what everyone wants — to own their own place.”

In reality, rebuilding their home isn’t something the Quinns can plan on doing soon. Since the family couldn’t be near Barry’s job at Valley Lumber during the few months they were moving around, he was replaced. Now, with many businesses in the area still recovering, it’s hard for either Barry or Ruth Ann to find work.

“We even thought about living in the storm shelter (we survived in) so Barry could keep his job,” Ruth Ann said. “But it was flooding, filling up with water, so we couldn’t do that.

“The main thing is, we need to get back to working. We’re ready to start tomorrow, if we can.”

For now, the family is getting by with help from friends and family.

Tommy said he also tries to contribute by using the Pell grant he receives to attend Northwest-Shoals Community College, where he’s getting his associate’s degree in music. He said he’s played piano for most of his life.

“I’m studying to be a piano turner, too, because there aren’t that many of them around anymore,” Tommy said. “That’s helped me get a little bit of money, plus playing the occasional wedding.”

On his cellphone, Tommy has saved a video he took just a few days before the storm hit. He said he doesn’t know why he did it — he was just playing around.

After emerging from the storm shelter April 27, Tommy again began taking video.

“Everything is gone,” he can be heard saying in the background. “We have our family and we have our lives. Everything else is gone.”

Nine months later, Tommy said if there’s one thing the tornado taught him, it’s to appreciate what he has.

“I learned really quickly how it can all be taken away — in about 15 seconds, to be exact,” he said. “It reminds you of the more important things — your friends, family and God.”

Hannah Mask can be reached at 256-740-5728 or hannah.mask@TimesDaily.com.