Sleeper story: The Lightning Strike.

Hello lovelies. God. What a CRAZY few days. Thank you for stopping by! πŸ˜€ We appreciate you being here when you could be anywhere else. We were thinking about a funny story, for a change. As all you sleepers out there know, some of the best times are had in children’s homes.

We are jacked up on coffee and are in the mood to write. πŸ˜€ The one of the funniest stories of my time in a children’s home was the famous lightning strike, which ended up leaving my best friend temporarily blind.

The children’s home we were in, were basically a set of cottages in a half moon shape with a large admin building attached. There was a fully locked unit and kids from all over the country came to this place. A lot of shady shit between kids and staff went down…It was just a crazy place. This was in the 90’s and this placed was PACKED with kids. What made it great was that it was co-ed.

The good staff really did care about us and it was easy to pick out good staff members if you needed to lean on someone. Some of the older staff, overnight staff we would pick on, all the time. Frank was a favorite target of our’s for practical jokes and razzing, an elderly gentlemen that we knew, had a big heart. We loved him. We used to put salt in his coffee. Frank referred to all of us children, collectively, as “Shit monsters”. We had our name for him too. A good man.

We made a really great friend. Me and this guy would get into all kinds of shenanigans. He was very, very funny. I knew we would be lifelong friends. We would beat up on child care workers, (When they allowed it) and get into all kinds of hell. My friend was a natural salesmen, as trafficking in underground cigarettes was a way of life at this place. We remember saying, shaking our heads “You’re a drug dealer aren’t you”? “I deal to your MOMMA”!

Cigarettes on “Campus” was a big deal. Nearly every kid there smoked cigarettes. Smoking on campus was allowed, even if you were underage. However, the difference was you had to have parental consent to smoke cigarettes. If you were caught smoking without consent, it was your ass. Cigarettes, just like anywhere else there was a currency.

Our cottage was different than others. When someone in our cottage (including us) fucked up, the entire cottage payed for it. If you were caught smoking without consent, everyone in the cottage wasn’t allowed to smoke for a weekend. Yikes. Just as anywhere else, problems in the cottage were resolved behind closed doors, mainly at night, between cottagemates.

So anyways, anyone that has lived in the midwest can attest to the thunderstorms and how angry they are. How the entire sky turns a beautiful, ANGRY black. The skies roll in and everything goes dark, almost like night. Beautiful, beautiful, BEAUTIFUL.

In the center of this children’s home, there was a Jewish Temple. We always wanted to go inside of it and we heard legends of those kids who actually got inside of it. One evening, a WICKED thunderstorm rolled in off the lake (Lake Effect) and hit us dead center. We were walking up a flight of stairs and turned the corner to our room, down a long, long hallway, studded with rooms on either side.

As soon as we turned the entire cottage immediately lit up with the brightest electric blue color we had ever seen before. It was a very fast flash. You know what that means. BOOOOOOM. The entire cottage shook and you could hear kids downstairs and upstairs exclaiming “HOLY SHIT!”.

We started running down the hall towards our room and we heard our buddy screaming, shrieking and if you can believe it, laughing. Laughing so hard in fact, we started laughing but were terrified..was he hit? What had happened!?!?

By the time I got to his room, he was laughing even harder…I said, “What the fuck man, what was that are you ok?”. He started walking towards us and hit the door-frame instead of walking under it. “I’m BLLLLLLLLIND!!!” Β he shrieked, laughing at the top of his lungs. He was having the time of his life, fumbling for his cigarettes, flash blinded by the lightning strike.

“Dude, lightning hit temple, I was looking right at it when it hit!” – He was almost yelling but howling with laughter as the thunder from the strike deafened him. Our cottage was only 40 yards away from that temple. Β By this time, everyone in the cottage had heard him and cottagemates were all swirling around his room being regaled by the hilarious story of lightning vs man.

We beat the shit out of him a few times while he was blind and we stole his cigarettes too. The more we stole from him while he was incapacitated, the harder he and we laughed. One of those magical times. “Where are my smokes, man?”.

He was blind for two days from that. It became just another one of those weird stories that become a legend that I’m sure is still being told. A lot of my friends that attended with me ended up with hard lives, just the same. Just like their trauma, it takes a lifetime to overcome. Damaged but beautiful souls.

Cottage 17/19: The true heart breakers. πŸ™‚

M and K

 

 

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