Evacuating the Homestead
09.22.05 (2:02 pm) [edit]
Everybody here at work has periodically drifted off to the downstairs kitchen to see what's going on with the hurricane. There was some general discussion about where we could all go if we were in the midst of one. It reminded me of evacuating from my parents' house on a regular basis. If there was any lightening at all, no matter the time of day or night, we all trooped down to the post office and hung around there until the coast was clear. Only my dad knew when the coast was clear. It usually took an hour or so.
My mom attributes this to the fact that my dad, his mother and father, and his siblings were actually struck by lightening twice. Both times they were out in the fields when the storm began. My idiot grandfather herded everybody under a tree. Guess what. Oh yeah, that's absolutely the wrong place to be. The best part, of course, is that once was not enough. On some other occasion, grandpa made the same mistake of seeking shelter under a tree. Jesus Christ. What a fucking idiot.
Anyway, that's how it came to be that my father would absolutely flip out every time there was a storm and, luckily for me I suppose, his version of the tree was our local post office. God, I hated being awakened in the middle of the night just to find myself sitting on the hard, cold marble stairs for an hour or longer. I actually was willing to die just to be able to continue to sleep. I promised not to hold it against them if they left me and the unthinkable happened. Even when I was a child, I figured the odds of being hit by lightening were pretty low.
Fun family memory number 587.
My mom attributes this to the fact that my dad, his mother and father, and his siblings were actually struck by lightening twice. Both times they were out in the fields when the storm began. My idiot grandfather herded everybody under a tree. Guess what. Oh yeah, that's absolutely the wrong place to be. The best part, of course, is that once was not enough. On some other occasion, grandpa made the same mistake of seeking shelter under a tree. Jesus Christ. What a fucking idiot.
Anyway, that's how it came to be that my father would absolutely flip out every time there was a storm and, luckily for me I suppose, his version of the tree was our local post office. God, I hated being awakened in the middle of the night just to find myself sitting on the hard, cold marble stairs for an hour or longer. I actually was willing to die just to be able to continue to sleep. I promised not to hold it against them if they left me and the unthinkable happened. Even when I was a child, I figured the odds of being hit by lightening were pretty low.
Fun family memory number 587.
