I said to myself, 'Oh shit, I'm dead.' I saw people converging on the body. Then - he seemed to hesitate before telling me this - "I was flying forwards. Next thing I remember, I was flying backwards." I remember a flash of light coming out of the phone. The phone was a foot away from where I was standing when I got struck. There was a little bit of rain, thunder in the distance. He still remembers every single second of what happened next: "I was talking to my mother on the phone. He went to a pay phone outside the pavilion to make a quick call to his mother (this was in 1994, before the age of cell phones). It was pleasant and breezy, but he noticed a few storm clouds in the distance it looked like rain. He was at a lakeside pavilion for a family gathering one fall afternoon. Tony Cicoria was forty-two, very fit and robust, a former college football player who had become a well-regarded orthopedic surgeon in a small city in upstate New York. Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the BrainĪ Bolt from the Blue: Sudden Musicophilia Note: There is language in this excerpt that some readers may find offensive.
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