HOW IT USED TO BE

Last evening we had a thunderstorm seemingly centered directly overhead. The lightning was sharp and close and the thunder was deafening. The rain was intense and since we are in a severe drought it was much appreciated. The storm came as we were getting ready for bed. The noise of the storm made a nice background to fall asleep to but when I was a child there was no such thing as sleeping during storms.

When a storm would come up in the middle of the night my father would awaken everyone in the house. It did not matter to him what the time was or how fast asleep we all were. He would insist we get up and then he would usher us all into the living room. If we were old enough we would be given a candle in case the power went off. Sometimes we would pray. We had to wait until the last clap of thunder and the last bolt of lightning before we were allowed to return to bed.

My dad was not in fear of the storm. He had survived World War 2 after being wounded in Europe so he wasn’t scared of the thunder and lightning. No, what bothered my dad and made him take such extreme measures was something very simple. He was preparing. Some families have fire drills that show everyone where and how to get out of your burning home. We never had one of those. Until we were older we didn’t even know why were getting up except that’s what we did. His plan was simple-if our house was hit by a bolt of lightning and caught fire, we would already be awake, dressed and downstairs. We could all escape unharmed by simply walking out the door. If it ever happened, which it didn’t.

This all changed one day when this dapper little man came knocking on our door. Our front door no less! He was about 5 and 1/2 feet tall, dressed in a dark suit,  white shirt, and bow tie. He carried a large briefcase and when we answered his knock he said he was selling protection for our home from electrical storms. He was selling lightning rods. Well, let me tell you, he came to the right house. If anyone needed lightning rods it was us.

Normally a traveling salesman got zero traction with my parents. But occasionally there was a product that was being hawked that fit a need. And I think this fella knew it from the moment he looked at all of our pleading faces. Faces that said “Please help, so we can sleep through the night.”

My dad went through all the literature with him. They went outside to measure. They came back inside to figure. They had coffee to help dicker. And all the while, my mother, brothers, and myself were hoping a deal could be struck between this little man and my protective father.  We called him ” The Lightning Rod Man.” After what seemed like hours, a receipt and check were exchanged, hands were shook and the deal was done. We were all going to sleep tonight. (as long as there was no storm that is)

What we didn’t realize was how long it would take for the lightning rods to come. And then how long it would take to install them. We were still in for a few weeks of sleep interrupted but it passed quickly. Mr. Lightning Rod came back and personally oversaw the installation of my dad’s new protection plan. He had supper with us when the job was completed. Everyone was happy!

We never again had our sleep disturbed by dad because of a storm. He trusted the rods completely and they remained on our house for many years. The copper coiled wire snaking its way down the sides of the house was full of yellow paint when they were finally removed. It was never fully explained why they were no longer needed but one day they were gone.

We all were grateful that the little man selling lightning rods found our front door that day. Perhaps that was what we were praying for when we were up in the middle of the nights watching the sky light up.