Nearly everything on the 18th was the same weather: one hard line of wind dragging itself across the Mid-Atlantic, throwing spin-ups as it went. Forty-one reports, thirty-two of them gusts, and the thickest run was Maryland — a dozen of them, topping 73 mph at Eldorado over on the Eastern Shore.
The tornadoes rode the same boundary. Pennsylvania put down three of the day's four, spread across the state, with Texas logging the fourth off in its own corner. None of them were monsters, but three touchdowns in one state in one afternoon is a front that showed up to work.
Virginia, Delaware, Ohio, and North Carolina all threw gusts and a stray stone along the same line. Hail never really got going — the biggest was a lone 1.25-inch stone way up at Victor, New York, sitting off by itself well north of the action.
A wind line does its damage in a long, thin ribbon — it clips one roof, skips the next three, and clips another a mile on. That's exactly why it's easy to wave off: your neighbor's house looks untouched, so you assume yours is too. But straight-line wind works the high edges first. After a blow like this the tells are up top — a lifted run of ridge cap, shingles cocked along the rakes, a corner of drip edge peeled where the uplift grabbed it. That's where to look, not the broad field of the roof.
There's no fat hail corridor to chase here — it's a wind-and-tornado day, and the work is spread thin along the front. The tightest thing to canvass is that Maryland gust cluster on the Eastern Shore; the Pennsylvania tornado damage is pinpoint and scattered, the door-knock kind. Where the real hail keeps stacking up is on the Top States for Hail board. The full list runs below — find your town in it to see whether the line crossed over you on the 18th.