One of my most vivid memories to this day is when my grandmother’s house exploded. It was in the summer of 2012, the rainiest summer I have ever seen in my usually dry town. It rained buckets every day, and the sewers were so flooded that water oozed out of them and into the street. And then, there was lighting. For several days, lighting filled our concrete colored sky. It was like a war zone.
I was about to be on my way to get my picture taken for football, though I knew we were going to come right home because it would be cancelled. The instant I opened our front door, there was an intense flash of white light. Several seconds later, there was an sound so loud I thought our car had exploded,
“What was that?!” I asked but louder than I had intended because I could only hear slight muffles of sound. I had been temporarily deafened by the shock wave emitted from the strike.
“I… I don’t know,” my mom replied.
“Did our house get struck by lighting?” my dad asked.
“I don’t know. Here lets go see,” I suggested. We searched the perimeter of our house and scanned our cars but nothing was to be found. So, we thought nothing more of the incident and headed to the stadium to get my picture taken for football.
On the way to the stadium, we heard the piercing screams of three fire trucks heading towards where we live.
“I bet they are going to the house that was struck by lightning,” my dad joked.
“Yeah I bet. It sucks for whoever’s house the lightning struck,” I remarked. Little did I know that my own grandmother had been inside the house which nearly exploded. Anyway, we arrived at the abandoned stadium with a sign that said, “PICTURES CANCELLED, COME BACK TOMORROW.” As I had predicted, the pictures had been cancelled.
On our way home I got a phone call from my mom saying grandma’s house had been struck by lighting.
“No way!,” I exclaimed, “Is she alright?”
“Yeah she’s fine but you should come over and see the house.”
When we arrived, Grandma’s house looked as if someone had placed a bomb in her roof and detonated it. Rubble carpeted her driveway, luckily she keeps her car in the garage. On further investigation, we discovered that the nails in the side of her house had come out. The firemen were cleaning up her driveway for her. There was pieces of roofing the size of a pillow.
“You should buy a lottery ticket!” one fireman suggested to my grandma as he was picking up a splintered piece of wood.
The ironic part about this day is I was curious which house had been struck by lighting. I had never thought that it would be my grandma’s house. I will always remember that day when grandma’s house exploded.