Dry Lightning - 1937


Here’s what the President said:

“The landmarks and traditions which have marked the progress of civilization toward a condition of law, order and justice are being wiped away.

Innocent peoples, innocent nations, are being cruelly sacrificed to a greed for power and supremacy which is devoid of all sense of justice and humane considerations.

To paraphrase a recent author “perhaps we foresee a time when men, exultant in the technique of homicide, will rage so hotly over the world that every precious thing will be in danger, every book and picture and harmony, every treasure garnered through two millenniums, the small, the delicate, the defenseless—all will be lost or wrecked or utterly destroyed.”

If those things come to pass in other parts of the world, let no one imagine that America will escape, that America may expect mercy, that this Western Hemisphere will not be attacked and that it will continue tranquilly and peacefully to carry on the ethics and the arts of civilization."

He said those words into a microphone in Chicago, Illinois, and the National Broadcasting Company sent it into the air, there to mix with all the electricity and lightning and signals among all the clouds and stars and sky one can find above the works of man.

The words of radio settle everywhere, like electric soot from a smokestack, even deep in the hollows of Martin’s Valley, where the Massachusetts Rural Electric Co-Operative hangs line, the rotten plank roads twisting into night, past their campfires.

This is a story of what is up that road.

It takes place in fall 1937.

And it is called

Dry Lightning

An electrification crew moves through rural Martin’s Valley, to homesteads and tiny towns barely getting onto the grid of paved roads. Among them, four supernatural beings: two Created, one Werewolf and one accidental Changing Breed find themselves drawn into dark events occurring in the area. Or perhaps what is happening was their fault all along.

Eight years into the Depression and there may be light at the end of the tunnel, or desperate measures may have gone too far.

Dry Lightning - 1937

America's Lacerations JDCorley JDCorley