Roberta and I went across the park for a late-night snack at the Hamilton Park Ale House.
We were just hurrying home to get back to work when a furious, unexpected thunderstorm kicked in. Wind belted the trees. Rain fell sideways. Thunder and lightning cracked and flashed right on top of each other.
We huddled in the restaurant's vestibule, waiting for a break in the storm, then hurried home.
In front of my apartment, we found a huge tree branch had fallen across a cable, tearing it down and leaving it in the street, the tree crushing the top of a compact car's rear hatch.
I walked over to the police station to report the downed tree-and-wire, where the desk clerk—with all the enthusiasm of a man who has seen it all—said "Yeah, we have that one already."
Firefighters showed up a short while later. With a chainsaw. They sawed up the branch and force-fed the remains to a garbage truck.
Never a dull moment in J.C.