nuclear story
	For fifteen years my family had a cottage. During the height of the Cold War my father prepared us for entry into the nuclear age. One night there was a thunderstorm over the lake. I woke up to find my father standing in front of a window, as lightning flashed/silhouetted him. I asked him what was wrong. He told me he was afraid the Bomarc missiles in North Bay had exploded. I hugged his waist; he patted my head. Everything will be ok.