Something poetic or is it ironic (third option offers hold your tongues) about venturing out into severe weather to retrieve a death certificate. The storm wound down as I returned to the Ruthenburg’s, but stupidly I followed the very street that had flooded in an earlier storm, the photos of which I’d posted linked to the newspaper story. Jeffrey even commented that he always detoured away from Bellemeade because it was often under water. I guess I had to find out for myself.

I stopped before the intersection to see what kind of vehicle could plow through and not stall. While I waited a lightning bolt struck awfully close by (you’ll see the camera shake – it scared the bejeesus out of me and sent the local teenagers running indoors), and then a fire truck responded to the subsequent call. If you look closely you can see a father carrying his child out of his flooded car. Jeff asked why I didn’t help the poor sap. I said I didn’t have a rope long enough. “You chicken shit, “ he said.

Travis: In case you don’t recognize the intersection it’s Garvin and Bellemeade.

The movie