Daddy’s Hand
Daddy’s Hand When I was six years old we lived in Oklahoma City in a neighborhood where we always kept the doors locked and bolted at night. To get out the back door, Daddy had a special key that opened the dead bolt from the inside. One night I was awakened suddenly by the sound of thunder, lightning and a torrential downpour. I rushed down the hall toward my parents’ room, but was stopped by billowing smoke and flames coming from the living room. Our house had been struck by lightning. I had to get out, but how? I couldn’t...