Lightning changes
The lightning bolt that shot from the sky more than four decades ago was a signal that everything was about to change. I was a young dairyman, struggling to scratch out a living on the rundown farm I had leased a few miles south of Brookings. I was doing chores with my Farmall “M” one summer morning when I espied a glowering thunderhead a few miles north. An incandescent blue spark flickered from cloud to ground. Moments later, I felt the thunderclap deep in my chest. “Somebody’s having a bad day,” I thought. The lightning struck an aging house that had been converted ...