It has been weeks since the winter ice storm swept across Mississippi, coating power lines in glass and leaving entire communities in the dark.
While most families waited indoors for the lights to flicker back on, men like Denny McGuff climbed into the freezing air to make that happen.And in one devastating moment, everything changed.
Denny McGuff, a lineman with the Tishomingo County Electric Power Association, was electrocuted while working to restore power after the storm that caused widespread outages.The job was routine in its purpose but deadly in its risk.
Ice, voltage, and urgency collided.He was airlifted to a hospital in Birmingham in critical condition.
Doctors moved quickly, knowing that electrical injuries are rarely simple and often far more destructive beneath the surface than they appear on the skin.
The first hours would determine whether he would live.
They saved his life.
But saving his life came at a cost no family is ever prepared to face.
Surgeons were forced to amputate his left arm due to the severity of the damage.
Electrical burns are not like ordinary burns.
They travel through tissue, muscle, and blood vessels.
They destroy from the inside out.
Even after the first amputation, the battle was not over.
Complications continued.
And physicians later had to amputate his remaining hand.
In the span of days, Denny lost more than limbs.
He lost the physical tools of his trade.
He lost the body he had known for 53 years.
And yet, he did not lose his life.
He has undergone at least eight surgeries since that day.
Eight times under bright surgical lights.
Eight times where doctors fought to prevent infection, stabilize tissue, and preserve what remained.
As of the latest updates shared by family, he is still not fully responsive.
Recovery from catastrophic electrical trauma is not linear.
The body needs time to wake up from shock, trauma, and repeated surgical intervention.
His wife, Kristi, has remained by his side.
Not for hours.
For weeks.
She has watched monitors instead of television.
She has slept in a chair instead of her own bed.
She has celebrated his 53rd birthday inside an ICU room instead of at home with their grandbaby.
There was no cake at their kitchen table.
No family dinner.
Only machines, quiet prayers, and gratitude that he is still breathing.
The wound care alone has been described as overwhelming.
Burn injuries require meticulous dressing changes to prevent infection and promote healing.
Even with strong IV pain medication, those procedures are excruciating.
Kristi says she tells herself she will not look when the wound team works.
She tells herself she will focus on his face instead of what remains of his arm.
But she always looks.
Because love does not look away.
She has described the pain he endures as something beyond words.
Even heavy doses of medication cannot fully erase it.
He has tried to pull away.
He has tried to groan.
And yet, he is still here.
The fundraiser organized by family friend Kristy Morgan was created not for sympathy, but for survival.
Medical transport, extended ICU care, surgeries, rehabilitation, prosthetics, and lost wages are realities the family now faces.
The financial burden compounds the emotional one.
But the story of Denny McGuff is not only about tragedy.
It is about service.
It is about sacrifice.
When the ice storm hit Mississippi, homes went dark.
He did not hesitate.
He went out into dangerous conditions to bring light back to others.
That is what linemen do.
They climb when the rest of us stay safe.
They restore normalcy in the middle of chaos.
And sometimes, they pay for it with their bodies.
Now another surgery is ahead.
A skin graft on what remains of his arm.
Another step in a long and uncertain road.
Skin grafts are critical in severe burn recovery.
They help protect exposed tissue.
They reduce infection risk and support long-term healing.
But each procedure carries its own risks.
Each trip back to the operating room reopens fear.
Each recovery period demands strength from both patient and spouse.
Kristi has said her heart continues to break.
Not dramatically.
But steadily.
Because watching someone you love endure relentless pain leaves scars on the heart as well.
Because the man who once worked with strong hands now faces a future that must be rebuilt.
Because the road ahead includes rehabilitation that will test him again and again.
Prosthetics.
Physical therapy.
Learning new ways to perform daily tasks most people never think about.
Buttoning a shirt.
Holding a grandchild.
Opening a door.
These ordinary acts now require extraordinary courage.
The Mississippi community has rallied around him.
Messages have poured in.
Prayers have crossed county lines.
There is something powerful about a state that understands storms.
Mississippi knows ice warnings and power outages.
It also knows resilience.
Denny McGuff did not go to work expecting to become a headline.
He went to work expecting to climb a pole and restore electricity.
He went because that is what responsible men do when communities depend on them.
He did not calculate fame.
He calculated voltage and weather conditions.
And when something went wrong, he paid the highest price short of his life.
Eight surgeries later, the fight continues.
The ICU lights remain bright.
Kristi remains beside him.
There is no dramatic soundtrack in that room.
Only machines.
Only steady beeping.
Only the fragile rhythm of recovery.
If you believe in prayer, pray for pain relief.
Pray for successful grafting.
Pray for nerve regeneration where possible and protection where not.
Pray for strength in rehabilitation.
Pray for courage when he fully awakens and sees the changes to his body.
Pray for Kristi, who carries both hope and heartbreak at the same time.
And if you can, leave him a message.
Something simple.
Something human.
Tell him the light he restored still shines.
Tell him Mississippi remembers.
Tell him he is more than what he lost.
Because before the storm, he was a husband, a grandfather, a lineman.
After the storm, he is still those things.
Only now, he is also a survivor.
