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  • Writer's picturerichard-cadena

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Shadow, Light, and Truth



WHEN I WAS A KID, my two older brothers were standing in the front doorway of our house in Corpus Christi, TX, and they were mesmerized by a drenching thunderstorm. Both were leaning against the aluminum door frame when the loudest bolt of lightning I had ever heard struck very close by. There’s an old Steppenwolf song called “Earschplittenloudenboomer.”


I don’t speak or understand German, and I don’t know what that word means or if it’s even a real word, but it sounds like a perfect description for what happened that day.


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