Editor’s note: The following column from the Best of West collection was originally published in the Port Arthur News on May 1, 1987.

Todd Dodge, quite frankly, figured the scars of those long, demeaning Saturday afternoons in Memorial Stadium, the ones where booing Texas fans designated him as the scapegoat for a sputtering offense would never go away.

His memories of wearing No. 13 in burnt orange, for good reason, just seemed destined to fluctuate between cynicism and bitterness.

Crank phone calls, sick letters, the rage at knowing loves ones in the stands were suffering from the verbal degradation would test the heart of the most forgiving Christian. Indeed, Dodge’s father, a Methodist minister, once confessed to seeking forgiveness from the Lord for things he wished upon the boo birds.

Less than two years later, however, the former schoolboy All-America quarterback at Thomas Jefferson can visualize the UT experience as somewhat of a day at the beach. After living to tell about what it’s like to go one-on-one with 450 volts of electricity, Dodge’s perspective has undergone considerable rearranging.

“I’m lucky to be able to see, fortunate to be alive,” he said. “When you go through something like that, a lot of things that seemed major become minor. I’m just thankful to be here, to know that I’m going to be able to live a normal life.

“It could have been so much worse. And, honestly, I think the football adversity helped prepare me to deal with the pain.”

Pain, both physical and mental, have been Dodge’s constant companion for nearly a month. He went home last week, after 18 days in a hospital. But he’s months from being back to normal.

Flashbacks of the accident are frequent. He’ll have to wear special gloves for a year to prevent scaring on his hands. Miraculously, except for singed eyebrows, his face is almost unscathed.

“You’d have had to see me right after the accident to fully understand how lucky I am,” said Dodge. “My first days in the hospital they thought I was going to lose three fingers on each hand. They told me I’d be needing a lot of skin grafts. Now it looks like there won’t be any grafts at all.”

Dodge’s world became an inferno when he tried to activate a commercial meter in his job with the city of Austin. Instead of instant electricity, he triggered a roaring ball of fire that knocked him to the ground, caused third degree burns and literally left skin peeling off his arms and hands.

The hours following the accident are an experience Dodge wishes he could somehow blot out of his mind. Unfortunately, he remembers it all too well because of haunting nightmares while in the hospital, and flashbacks in his waking hours. It’s the kind of personal anguish only a burn victim could understand.

“The first thing I noticed when I got off the floor was my skin melting,” he recalled. “I ran into the parking lot and some people out there got a hose and started spraying me. Somebody else got some ice. Then the Emergency Medical Service team arrived.”

On the ride to the hospital, Dodge began to worry about how badly he was disfigured. His face felt like his hands and arms, and he know how they looked. Several times he asked the ambulance attendance about his face. The eventual response was chilling.