Our friends painted-wood-porch was our shelter from the storm. Most storms came from the west, and we could see them approaching from our porch. Our front porch was cement and had wrought iron railings, so it was a no-brainer; safety was across the street. The old wood porch was painted gray, and it was on an angle just enough to allow water to roll off like little waterfalls. We would wait for the flash of light and block our ears, but we felt the thunder in our bones. Between the flash of light and the rumble we counted Mississippi's, trying to guess how far away the lighting was; of course, when it crashes beside you, there's no need to tell time: Time stands still when you're shitting your pants. We watched many summer storms from that porch. But eventually, all storms end. We waited for clear skies, so we could play in the puddles. A rainbow's promise was God's way of saying “Okay boys make a splash” and we did. Camp fun and games Some storms took us by...