Thirty-something speaks
Lucky lightning bolt strikes
Mike Maddock

I've never been a big fan of lightning, and I guess now it doesn't like me much either. You know those times when you see a flash of light and hear a gigantic boom during a thunderstorm and say, "Geez! I know that had to hit something close."

Well, this time that something close was my house.

Last Saturday, lightning decided to blow through one of the trees in my front yard. Then, when that wasn't enough, it decided to blow through my roof. It killed a television, DVD player, telephone, answering machine, a computer, and perhaps some unlucky bugs in my attic. Of course, it spared my ancient VCR with the blinking lights, and my stove with two functioning burners and a broken door, which I really would like to have replaced, but it also spared my house and my family. So I am thankful despite the new skylight in my roof.

According to funny2.com, the chances of being struck by lightning are 576,000 to 1. Those are pretty good odds. Technically, that particular bolt of lightning didn't physically strike me, but I was in the house that it hit so I say it counts.

Now, if I can beat those odds, does that mean I should run out and buy a Powerball lottery ticket? Probably not, because those odds are about 146,107,962 to 1. I'd have a better chance at winning an Olympic medal. The odds of that are just 662,000 to 1. Still, I think I'll keep the bobsled in storage.

On the day of the big event, my wife and I were standing by the front door looking out the side windows contemplating going out on the front porch to sit and watch one of the increasingly rare Columbia summer rainstorms. I had just finished stating, "I'd go out there, but I'm a little nervous about this lightning," when, "BOOM!"

At first, I thought the bolt had just gotten one of the oversized pine trees in our front yard, and I urged my wife and kids not to panic.

"Should I call 911?" my wife asked in a slightly elevated tone.

"No," I said confidently. "It just got the tree."

Then I turned to look out the window again. That's when I noticed a large piece of fascia board, several shingles, and a growing contingent of neighbors staring out our house with an "Oh my God!" look on their faces. It also started to smell like someone was doing a little wood burning.

I turned a little less calmly and said, "Honey, maybe we should call 911."

The firemen didn't stay long, but they left an impression...particularly one of them. After, they'd poked around the house and in the attic, and determined the only thing even smoldering was a small piece of insulation, the one fireman turned to me and said, "You're lucky, these things usually burn houses to the ground." Then he said it again. And then, for good measure, he said it one more time as he was leaving.

I guess my family and I beat those odds, too.