A Learning Experience... the bug on TV was right.

When I was a kid, I climbed everything... the swing set, trees, fences, the jungle gym at the park, my Uncle Earl (who was very tall), even the walls of the house. In fact, one of my earliest memories is of climbing. The nursery at my parents' church had cribs kind of set into the wall, "bunked" above each other, three high. The poor lady who watched the kids had to pluck me off of the top set on a regular basis (much to my frustration) and never seemed to figure out that I was up there for the sake of climbing, not for the sake of napping.
As an avid climber of all things, I spent a lot of my childhood up in a tree. I had a favorite tree outside my parents' house in Saint Marys, Ohio. My tree was not in the back yard, but in the "tree lawn" (the part of the lawn that was on the street side of the sidewalk. I guess mom called it that because there were trees there.) It was tall enough that I could go up there with a book and hide from the world, but there was one big low-hanging branch that made climbing really easy. There was one wire which went through the street side of the tree, but my climbing never took me near it.
I used to go up there and sit in the top branches for hours, reading. I'd come down when I was hungry, or when my mother called.
When I was around eight years old, I was reading up there when the noise from the wire became distracting. It didn't get louder, I just sort of noticed it more. There were other distracting sounds... it was afternoon, and there were squirrels and birds out and about. I'd noticed them, too. Looking back, I think I was probably having my version of a hyper day, but we didn't know about that yet.
I was sure the line was a telephone wire. I figured the humming sound it made must be the noise of all of the phone conversations going through it. Therefore, it had to be a telephone wire. (Ah, the logic of a little kid!) A normal child might still have taken a moment to think about the idea before executing it, but I was not a normal child. I was an undiagnosed bipolar child. My good-idea/bad-idea filter had a few holes... big ones... and I hadn't yet learned how to work around them.

This is the point at which the memory becomes a bit sketchy. I do remember thinking of a cartoon in which one of the characters pinches a telephone cord and the other person's speech gets bottled up behind it. Keep in mind, at this time I was early elementary school age... picture a second grader in this position. It occurred to me to wonder if shaking the telephone wire might effect the conversations going through it. It didn't occur to me to wonder if something bad might happen to me. Picturing the words getting all mixed up going through the line, I giggled, and headed to that side of the tree. I remember stretching to reach for the wire, and I remember what happened as I got almost close enough to touch it: A half-inch thick arc of very bright blue light jumped through the last inch or two of space, grabbed my thumb, and bit me! During that instant, I could feel it traveling all the way up my arm and into my shoulder. It didn't feel hot, just kind of creepy-crawly-weird, like a whole of bunch hairy-palmed ghosts (with spikey hair, not soft) had grabbed my hand and arm and were squeezing and letting go really, really fast. For a split second, I was a mess of sensations. My jaw dropped, my eyes bulged, and everything went way out of focus, but at the same time I was involuntarily blinking really fast. My teeth clamped together hard, and my hair snapped outward and flew around as if there were a heavy wind blowing into my face as an odd, dry smell filled my nose. There was a roaring noise in my ears, like when I've gotten water in them and then the wind blows... and then that sound stopped. I felt like I was suffocating as all of the air was squeezed out of my chest by a giant invisible fist clamping down on me. I was choking on something, and I could vaguely hear my voice as my body "spoke" without my consent: "Ungh-ungh-ungh" My heart pounded against my ribs, seemingly trying to escape. It all happened at once, taking less time than for the hand of a clock to tick off a single second. It felt simultaneously fast and slow, as the experience was so awful that the split second I knew it was felt like forever.
I don't remember feeling my muscles relax, but they must have done so, as the next split second after the moment of sensations struck me in the same manner as a several-frame-skip as reels are changed in a movie theater. I know it happened fast, because nothing else around me changed. Even the squirrels in the other trees were in the same place as before, one still munching on a black walnut shell (from one of our other trees) and one still barking for its mother. I went from the instant of electrocution to the experience of finding myself hanging from a lower branch of the tree by my right armpit. Everything hurt, even my face. It felt like I'd been beaten up and had overworked every muscle in my body. That's because... well, I'd been electrocuted... I had given every muscle a workout via enforced multiple spasm, and I'd been beaten up while falling through the tree. There were bruises on my shins and thighs, a couple on my wrists, and a huge one under my arm. My thumb had a perfectly round burn on it, and I could also feel a burn on the ball of the one foot on which I'd been resting my weight. I later found a perfectly melty spot in the sole of my shoe and a hole in my sock. There was also a small burn mark in that part of the tree. (Don't let anyone tell you electricity won't go through rubber soled tennies... they're wrong!) Also, my whole body kept twitching like I was being poked. In fact, it did feel a lot like being poked, but instead of just one finger, there were hundreds, some of them internal. That really sucked.
It was at this moment that I realized that wire wasn't a telephone line, but a power line. It occurred to me that I probably should tell my mother what had happened, just in case I was not ok. With my muscle control disabled, I must have fallen through that tree like a rag doll... nothing felt broken, but you never know. With that much pain, I might not notice if something was broken!
Then, it occurred to me that I would be in abnormally deep doo-doo if my parents knew I had touched that power line, and they would probably forbid me to ever go near my favorite climbing tree again, even though I had obviously learned my lesson. I could not bare to be parted from my precious climbing buddy and hiding spot, so I decided to keep the incident to myself for the time being. I stuck to that decision even after, upon attempting to get down, I found that for several moments I had absolutely no control over my limbs. It wasn't until my muscles stopped twitching that I finally was able to flex them enough to move my arms and legs. I should have waited a few more seconds, a fact I realized immediately after moving the arm that was holding me up. My legs collapsed under me when my feet hit the ground, and my butt landed half-on the still-smoldering book. That was when I realized that my panties were damp. Looking down, I found that I hadn't let out enough to go through my pants... just enough to feel uncomfortable. Now, I was glad I'd visited the restroom before climbing my tree. I certainly would have had a rough time explaining it to my mother if I'd had that kind of accident. She'd want to know why.
It was another couple of moments before I could stand up. I wasn't paralyzed... my limbs just wouldn't go the direction I wanted them to, nor would they go the distance. It was like trying to move through some substance that provided unusual resistance, but which was thicker in some spots than others. I bet I looked really drunk. To avoid questions from anyone who might be driving by (or any neighbors - thank GOD they didn't see me fall!) and with some difficulty, I picked up the book (it was really warm) and began "reading." My eyes still wouldn't focus properly, but I had an interesting way of knowing that I was holding it right: The cover, the bottom, and pages I'd had it open to had char marks in the shape of where my hand had been touching them. Funny, but out of the whole experience, that and the burn mark in the tree were the things that really made it scary. I realized that the tree took a good part of the punishment (though the only damage I found was that little burn mark) and that I could have burned myself to a crisp had I actually completed the action of grabbing the wire.
I sat for several minutes that way, as the rubbery, weak feeling slowly left my body. It didn't take the pain with it, but at least I could move the way I wanted to.
When I got my strength back, I went into the house, and I think I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room, as I remember sitting in my big yellow beanbag and feeling occasional muscle twitches in my legs. The bean bag zapped me when I sat in it, too. It seems to me that I remember getting shocked a lot that day, like everything I touched had a static charge, but I could be remembering another day and thinking it was that day because of the power line shock. It's been almost 30 years since it happened.
I remember shoving the shoes waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay under my bed behind a bunch of other stuff so Mom wouldn't find them, and putting the book in someone else's trash can for the same reason. Eventually I pulled the shoes out and trashed them, the same way... I know I told Mom I couldn't find them in the house (which was true, because they weren't there) but I don't know how long it was before that happened. I don't think it was the same day. I can remember the shape of my fingers burnt into the book cover, but for the life of me I can't remember the title of the book. I remember I was wearing long pants and a long sleeved shirt, but I don't remember getting burned by any metal parts from my clothes or shoes (though I must have... jeans would have had buttons and a zipper, and shoes would have had lace holes with metal.) I also don't remember having to explain the bruises or burns to Mom but I know at some point she would have seen them and asked... I remember having an explanation for the bruises ready (I won't jump out of the swing again Mom, I promise) but I don't remember giving it to her. It's like the electric shock burned some memories into permanency, and others into oblivion. An ex-boyfriend of mine who was a "house tech" (nurse's aid) at a hospital with a mental ward once told me this happens with electroshock therapy... the patient often doesn't remember who took him to therapy, so even when the same guy who took him to the dreaded "therapy" session comes in to take him back to his room the patient is happy to see him. For me, though, it seems that the missing memories are all ones which happened after being electrocuted.
The incident brought me to a few conclusions, some sooner than others.
One, whoever originally said never to assume was right. I totally felt like an ass after touching that wire.
Two, electricity is worse than fire (fire story will be forthcoming but maybe not today.)
Three, that bug on TV was right, too... You Gotta Play It Safe!
Four, I don't ever, ever want to be tased. Not that I ever plan on getting into trouble with the law, but if the cops ever come for me, I'll go without being tased. really.
and finally,
Five, it's a lot funner in cartoons.

Years later, at the age of thirty-six and with three kids of my own (who have all heard the story as a cautionary measure) I finally did tell Mom about the incident... and guess what? I am not allowed to climb that tree any more.