From 
Del.icio.us
Digg
Reddit
Facebook
StumbleUpon
TwitThisA Burst of Flames
The sky above the Atlantic City Country Club was overcast and misty, but that didn't stop Spencer Van Maussner and his friends -- Michael McHugh, Robert Dusz and Peter Costanzo -- from playing golf. The four prided themselves on hitting the links throughout the year, regardless of the weather. So despite predictions of rain or snow on that March morning in 1993, they met on the green around 7:30 anyway. Before sending them onto the course, the club's management checked the National Weather Service's forecast. There were no warnings of lightning, the club's main concern. At about 8, while it was drizzling, the club's starter told Maussner and his friends to play.The group began on the back nine. As they played the 10th and 11th holes, the drizzle turned into a downpour. By the 12th hole, the rain had subsided. After they hit their drives, McHugh noticed a lightning bolt in the distance, and the friends decided to hurry back to the clubhouse. Maussner and Costanzo walked together and opened their umbrellas. McHugh and Dusz trailed about 15 yards behind.
At about the same time, the caddie master learned of lightning in the area and set off in a cart with the club pro to get players off the course. For about 40 years, the club had followed an evacuation plan of driving the course to warn players at the first sign of dangerous weather.
One of the group's two caddies suggested going to a nearby house for shelter, but the men decided against it. Suddenly McHugh saw a burst of flames a foot and a half high leap from the ground behind Maussner's legs. Maussner fell on his face and didn't move. Seconds later, lightning ran up Costanzo's legs, blowing keys and change out of his pockets and into the air, where a glowing halo of electricity circled them.
McHugh ran first to Costanzo, who had also been knocked to the ground. "It's my legs, it's my legs," Costanzo moaned, but otherwise he seemed stable. When McHugh went to Maussner, he saw holes in his friend's pants that looked like giant cigarette ash marks, and smoke was coming from his singed legs. Rolling him over, McHugh could see that Maussner's Gore-Tex suit was shredded in the back as if a bomb had hit it, and there were smoking holes in the right side of his shirt, sweater and jacket. The bolt of lightning had struck Maussner's umbrella and shot down the metal handle into his body. It burned off the web of skin between his thumb and index finger, pierced his shoes and charred his feet.
Advertisement 
Your Comments
See all
...