By Walter Geiger
I was met by a surreal scene at 1:30 a.m. last Thursday when I pulled up to the Hot Shot store or what was left of it.
The usually brightly lit facility was dark. It was raining. The only light came from flashlights and police and emergency strobes. I marveled at the shredded store and the smashed church across the street. I had only a small flashlight but I could see enough to know things were bad.
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