Outhouse Tales

Once you get past a certain age nearly any topic is suitable for discussion, and the venerable Outhouse shot to the top of the list this week in an email from Richard Holstad.  Then it proceeded to seep in a number of directions until finally "Blade", AKA Stanton Arendts, topped the pile with this story.

My grandmother Arendts had one in Kensett.  They lived katty-corner from the school.  It was not used for the designated purposes when I was growing up, but rather as a storage site for storm windows and screens.  It was under a large cottonwood tree next to the garage.  It had a peaked roof that was topped by a metal ball with tin flashing on the four sides leading to the top.

The house is no longer there and hasn't been since lightning struck the tree one night.  The bolt traveled down the tree and hit the ball on top of the outhouse.  It continued to the ground via the tin strips.  The house was split into 4 equal sections.  The sides filleted open and fell to the ground in perfect symmetry.  Can you imagine the "shock" if it were in use at the time?

Morals of the story:

1.  Lightning does strike more than once in the same place.  That tree was struck 3 times during the time I lived in Kensett.

2.  Never take a crap in an outhouse during a thunderstorm.

Sometimes the stories that get passed around are kind of crappy, and I suppose that this one technically is, but our thanks to Blade nonetheless.  And apologies for all the scatological references.