Back in the late ‘60s, I had a summer job working as a lifeguard at an apartment house pool in downtown Washington, D.C. It was a great job in that no one ever visited the pool during the weekdays until after 5 pm, so I had lots of time to myself to read long Russian novels & etc. One afternoon, I was watching a thunderstorm with lightning hitting around the Catholic Shrine on a hill miles away in N.E. section of the city. I remember just having the thought that lightning never seems to stirk nearby, when a tremendous bolt struck the roof of the building right in front of me across the street. The flash and boom were instantaneous, and the bolt was a wide a car with a pink core. The next thing I knew was that I was driving in my car several blocks away, still in my swimsuit. I had apparently run down the stairwell ten stories to the basement garage, got in my car, and drove away in a literal blind panic.
Quite an experience.