Just a shitty parking lot behind there, is what it is.
Nothing’s marked the occasion, the spot, but I walk to where it is, know the place even with the buildings having been ripped down and changed.
My grandpa got hit by lightning, never met him.
It was behind a bbq shack, he fell face first into the dumpster. He’d been taking out the trash. Years later my parents met there.
My grandmother used to stand outside when it rained, just under cover, so that when lightning’d strike you’d feel the shake and heat of it.
She’d say that he was in the lightning. I didn’t believe it as a kid, don’t believe it now. Still though, lightning feels like family to me and that’s not bad, having dangerous kin.