A Jolt from Heaven

A Jolt from Heaven Alan Mills Gregory Bald, June 1990 After four grueling hours of hiking up a steep rocky trail, I had finally reached Sheep Pen Gap, an isolated backwoods campsite in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The thermometer dangling from my backpack registered 93° and the empty canteen in my hand was the result of the intense humidity so familiar in these $outhern highlands. It was Monday, June 18, 1990: the first day of a five-day photography expedition. On this particular excursion, I planned to be on Gregory Bald during the peak blooming season of what many people regard as the world's greatest display of flame azaleas. After selecting a suitable campsite, I unleashed my heavy pack crammed full of camera gear, film, and enough food to last the week. While unrolling my small dome tent, I suddenly felt uneasy about the isolation and decided to search for a new site. Gathering up my gear, I quickly located a spot within fifty yards of another group of campers and began the task of setting up camp. Shortly after I had driven the final tent stake and chewed off the last bit of beef jerky, the sky rumbled and the first drops of rain began to roll off the tent canopy. Most people detest the thought of camping in the rain, but I love the cozy feeling of being zipped up in a sleeping bag inside a tent during a thunderstorm. This night was no exception, so I crawled into my tent, lit a candle, fluffed up my new down sleeping bag and pulled out a small pocketsized Bible acquired during one of the Gideons' annual college campus Bible giveaways. After a long day of trekking on the trail, I thought about how peaceful and relaxing it was to be sheltered from the storm. As I turned the pages of II Corinthians, the steady rhythm of the rain Alan Mills, an assistant professor in the department of technology and industrial arts at Berea College, lives in Berea with his wife and two children. In recentyears he has used his camera to record not only the natural beauty of the Smoky Mountains but also the environmental impact that human beings have had on this fragile ecosystem. 26 pelting the canvas stirred up memories of growing up in a house with a tin roof. Suddenly, without warning, there was an earth-shattering explosion and a blinding flash of light, and an electric current sizzled through my body. For a split second time stood still. It was as though I were suspended in an overpowering magnetic field with the invisible forces twisting, tugging and contracting my muscles. I had been struck by lightning! When it was over, I was sprawled face down on the tent floor. My left arm and leg were paralyzed and I had no feeling below the knee in my right leg. The mighty blast had ripped through the left side of my rib cage and exited through my left hip, leaving second-degree burns and charred nerves in its path. Realizing the severity of the situation, I screamed for help, but with the storm still roaring through the campground nobody could hear me. Recognizing that my calls for assistance were futile, I decided to stay put until the storm subsided. As I lay motionless on the melted tent floor, many thoughts raced through my head. Was this a dream? Would I be permanently paralyzed? Would I live through this ordeal? Think positive . Pray! Fifteen minutes later the vicious storm receded and I immediately cried out for help. Within seconds, two campers unyoked the door flap and entered my tent. One of the rescuers worked for a telephone company and had a friend who had been shocked by high voltage while climbing a pole. Familiar with the symptoms, he assured me that I would get the feeling back into my limbs. In about an hour a tingling sensation and movement did return to my arm and legs and we made the decision that they should both descend the mountain and get help. Ten hours later the campers returned with three park rangers riding on horseback. After...