Thunderbolt

Thunderbolt

Noel Laflin

7-25-18

It’s a hot, sultry summer day and there’s a sudden fire racing up the slopes to Idyllwild. I’m watching and listening to news helicopter pilots describe the smoky scene as folks are being evacuated and large planes make run after run across the mountain, dropping red fire retardant across the rugged terrain.

I witnessed a fire just outside of that town once, as a sudden summer storm moved in out of nowhere and lightning blasted a large pine tree standing just feet from the old Kiwanis Lodge, the one in which a hundred Cub Scouts and their dads were staying for the weekend. The coming to that old lodge, the one that could sleep and feed a hundred kids and their dads quite comfortably, was an annual event - and usually a fun one.

But the monstrous thunderclap accompanying the strike was so loud and so very close that day that it knocked a few of us standing on the steps of the old lodge right to the ground. With ears still ringing, we watched as volunteer firemen from Idyllwild raced in and jumped into action.

It was high drama for eight-and-nine-year-old kids like us.

Several men aimed a hose high into the air in order to quench the flames riding up the tree.

Then one man dropped to the ground, clutching his chest.

A hundred Cub Scouts and their dads watched as the man died on the scene from a heart attack.

Some of the crew held onto the snake-like hose to make sure the fire was under control, while others attended to their comrade.

But it was too late, as the attack was sudden and lightning quick, just like the thunderbolt that struck our quiet neck of the woods that hot, sultry summer day of long ago.