They say that lightning never strikes twice in the same place, but I know that is not true. The large oak on my father’s place could vouch for that, if it were still around. It got hit hard the first time. The top was split out, but it survived. Then, a couple years later, it was hit again. This time it did not survive. All that was left was a ten foot tall stump. The center was hollowed out, making a small fortress. In fact, one of our sows had nine pigs in the hollowed out stump.

  When my wife and I lived in Rome, Georgia, I was crossing the Oostanaula River Bridge during a thunder storm. As I crossed the bridge, lightning struck a pole about fifty yards in front of me. When it hit, it knocked the wire off the pole and cut it in half. As the slack came out of the wire, it moved down the bridge toward my truck. I sat there with my hands and feet not touching anything, as the wire dragged across the hood of the truck. When I finished praying, I continued on.

  Once, in Yatesville, as we stacked hay in the barn ahead of a storm, lightning hit a small pecan tree just outside the barn. There was fire and smoke all around the tree. One of my helpers panicked and started running out of the barn. I caught him before he got out and asked him where he was going? He said he was getting out. I finally convinced him that running out into the storm would not be a good plan.

  On the farm, we used many barbed wire cattle gaps. They worked well and were cheaper to construct than buying a gate. Anytime there was a storm around, you had to be cautious closing the gap. Even the slightest amount of lightning in the air would send a shock down the barbed wire fence and, if you were holding it, you became the ground. It would deliver a substantial shock.

  As I sat on my front porch at Lake Dow one evening, lightning hit a pine tree in the front yard. A ball of fire lit up the tree. Bark was scattered about and a big hole was created when the ball of fire hit the ground. The tree was a goner, but I was okay.

  I guess the closest encounter I have had with lightning was on a trail ride at Mount Rogers, Virginia. I was riding a quarter horse named Jet and Bobbie was riding her horse, Kodak. Jet was a race horse that had been brought in from Texas to be converted to a barrel racing horse. The problem was, Jet did not care for barrel racing. He was a powerful horse with explosive speed, but he was content to be a laid back trail horse.

  We had reached the top of the mountain when the storm hit. The lightning sounded like we were in the clouds with it. I was bothered by it more than Jet or Kodak. We saw a tree hit by lightning. There was nowhere to go except down the wooded trail. I told Jet that if the Lord was going to take us out with a bolt of lightning, He would have to hit a moving target. Jet agreed and we maneuvered down the mountain at a rapid pace, sometimes with Kodak in the lead and sometimes with Jet leading the way. We made it back safely, but it was an experience I will never forget, and I hope not to repeat.

  I am sure many folks have had greater experiences with lightning than me, but I am content with mine. I don’t want to have any spectacular encounters that might infringe on someone else’s story.