Every year during the monsoon storm season, Tucson Electric Power rolls out its safety program about the dangers of downed power lines. Years ago, I had the privilege of being on the marketing team that created TEP’s first locally produced TV commercial for storm safety.

Pun intended, the cast was powerfully electrifying. It was composed of creative whiz Jay Taylor of Taylor Advertising, the spark of TEP’s communications manager Barry Burdett, and me, TEP’s fired-up PR director.

Previously, TEP had paid licensing fees for "canned" commercials from the Edison Electric Institute. Those ads posed a little credibility issue. The storm footage looked like it was shot on the grassy streetscapes of Chicago.

We wanted a backdrop that better depicted our desert community.

As we wrote the script, we hit a roadblock. Taylor wanted actual Tucson lightning in the commercial to capture its frightening sight and sound as special effects.

After much debate, we decided to stage our own storm-caused, exploding power line. The basic plan was to film what happens when a broken power line is short-circuited in wet dirt.

Thus was born TEP’s first "Stay Clear, Stay Alive" TV commercial.

We picked a remote site off Interstate 19 that had once served the area’s copper mines. It wasn’t an electrical substation per se, yet it contained some back-up equipment.

The site also packed a walloping 138,000 volts of power.

We filmed on a Thursday in the late afternoon. We were in radio contact with the systems office which had turned off all power to the site.

Systems remained on standby. When we gave the cue, they would energize the wires.

Taylor’s creative director composed the "set." A line crew set up a leaning power pole and made it look like it had been damaged by a lightning strike. Strands of "downed wires" were hung to the ground. Around the wires, about 10 square feet of dirt was watered until saturated.

From a power pole off camera, a "live" wire was snaked into the scene to the damp dirt. When the switch was thrown, this line would short out.

After setup, the crew filmed some background shots. They filmed the desert streetscape, wires, and close-ups of the transformers and equipment.

I even got an unscripted, bit part for my feet. My role was to "stumble upon" the broken wires in my new white tennis shoes, pause, then rapidly walk away.

With everything set, we took a break and waited for sunset.

After about 45 minutes, a huge storm rolled in from the south. By sheer coincidence, lightning flashed in the background, on camera.

It was time. We radioed systems.

We had a microphone about 10 feet from the wet wires. The film crew and creative director were about 25 yards away, partially shielded by their equipment van.

When the power came, no one knew what to expect. The creative director, however, lectured everyone that no matter what happened, under no circumstances was anyone to make a sound until he gave the OK sign.

It was important for the microphone to clearly record the sounds of the short-circuiting.

All was ready. The call went to systems.

Within moments, deafening pops exploded from the ground, throwing a giant ball of brilliant white light into the air. Barry Burdett and I were some 30 yards away and felt a heat wave rush over us.

Everyone held their awe but the creative director. In reaction to the blast, he blurted out a three-word profanity… captured on mic.

It was all over in 10 seconds. Then, dead silence. Momentarily blinded by the flash, we blinked at the dirt. I was shaking.

The quiet was broken by systems’ radio. The power was off, all was clear.

One of the TEP linemen walked to the wet dirt and called us over. The energy burst was so intense, it had melted the desert sand into an 8-inch square of clear glass that was about one-inch thick.

And because the creative director couldn’t contain himself, we had to reset for "take two" before it got completely dark.

This is a true story, drawn from Yohem’s 25-year, award-winning communications career with the Southern Arizona Home Builders Association, Tucson Electric Power, and Southwest Gas. Yohem’s column looks at the lighter side of "challenges" in the business world and appears the first and third week of each month in Inside Tucson Business.