Cathy in the Wright

Electrifying Weekend

An exciting weekend for your most humble blogger, although I am hard-pressed to say which event was the pinnacle: nearly getting electrocuted on the soccer field (Dave P. is vehemently nodding his head) or driving home in a tornado.

Soccer players are an unusual bunch. (Refrain from sarcastic laughter, Dave P.) Yesterday there were nearly 40 of us playing under blackened skies watching the far-off lightning. Many sober, rational people would have taken those indicators as a sign to get indoors. Not us. We collectively decided that there was no danger until someone actually got hit and was a smoldering pile of ash in their cleats.

We came pretty close. We ignored the lightning as long as we could. And then there was the flash. The big flash that illuminated our very skeletons followed by bone-rattling thunder. We scattered like cockroaches. I think I was in the car before the coach finished yelling, "We're done!" It was hard to hear him anyway because the city of Plymouth started up the severe weather sirens.

In the car, I started heading for my folks house when I hear on the radio that a tornado has touched down in Maple Grove near 494. Swell. I just turned down the entrance ramp to 494. Plymouth is a few miles south of Maple Grove.

I wasn't sure what to do at this point. Debris is flying through the air, sirens are going off, the wind is nearly tipping the Blazer over...the only thing that kept me from losing it was the fact that there were hundreds of other drivers in the same boat. At least I wasn't going to Oz all alone. I sped south and managed to make it to my parent's house. My folks were huddled in the basement watching the mess on television.

The worst of the storms were over quickly, and when I got back on the road to head home, the sun was shining.

While I'm thankful I made it home safely, I'm still annoyed we didn't get to finish our game.